Yet Another Corner of the World Wide Web

2011-10-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

It is so wonderful how you learn from your kids.

In a conversation with “the boy” this morning, we were

discussing his future entrepreneurship as an inventor. His latest addition to his creative repertoire:

Frog Suits.

Yes. You read that correctly – frog suits.

Evidently (according to Sam), frog bodies do not have enough protection. Therefore, they need utilitarian suits in which to better defend themselves from the perils that are associated with being tiny thin-skinned amphibians. A brief description follows:

-Primarily made of metal

-Plastic (not glass) helmet shield “force field” for the head (see-through, so you can tell it’s a frog)

-Jointed arms/legs so the frogs are not “stuck like they are dead”

-Heart replacement device in case they die (or “croak”—har har—I added the pun myself)

-Mechanical gloves that will allow frogs to move their fingers

I asked Sam just how many frog suits he thought he would need to make. His first guestimate was one hundred. After pondering for a moment, however, he realized he would need more like “a billion trillion” to cover the demand of all frogs on the planet.

Sam then commented that his room would be his workshop. I said it would probably need to be more like a factory since there would be such a high frog suit output. I also recommended that he consider hiring a helper/employee:

Me: You know; that’s a lot of frog suits. You might need someone to help you make them.

Sam: Like an automaton?!!

Me: Or a human friend…

Sam: (silent for a moment)….. Maybe Cameron (a friend from school). But I will have to tell him how to do it because he is not good at it.

We were almost late to school this morning as a result of this conversation. But I felt it was worth it. I found it to be sooooo fascinating. It was so the masculine version of my own fantasy life when I was little. Where I was thinking about unicorns and sparkles and rainbows as a child, my own child is thinking about turning frogs into cyborgs.

But even more interesting to me was Sam’s response when I suggested he might need human help with his proposed endeavor. He was reluctant. He didn’t think his friends would have the mental or inventive wherewithal to be capable of such a task. He was the expert, and the only one who would know how to do it right.

I remember playing unicorns on the playground with my friends when I was little. I was forever exasperated because my playmates were constantly failing to live up to my vision of the perfect unicorn life. “You’re not whinnying right!” and “You’re not galloping pretty enough!” are a couple examples of “helpful advice” I was
constantly dishing out in the schoolyard.

I look back at those years with complete embarrassment. I was a bossy jerk of a child. And I kind of knew it. Thankfully, however, my long-suffering friends loved me enough to stick with me in spite of my officiousness (some of them may actually even read this!). But honestly…I did not set out to be a third-grade fascist. I had my idea of how things should go, and I knew that if I could just transplant my brain into the brain of someone else, they would see just how brilliant my imaginings really were. I desperately wanted the world to be shiny, rainbow-y, and gorgeous. And I had nowhere else to look outside of the people closest to me. But they were just people and they were definitely not making my vision happen.

I feel sorry for Sam because of this. I see how unique he is, and he is definitely showing signs of feeling emotionally isolated. I see just how similar he is to me. But maybe he will be different enough to not be disappointed when the world doesn’t go his way. Maybe instead of retreating out of frustration, he will really come up with ways to make the world a shinier (more robot-y) place. And maybe he will learn to adjust when other kids aren't exactly how he wants them to be.

Maybe I will grow out of it someday, as well.

Songs from Before

2011-08-19T11:03:00.001-07:00

So I thought it might be fun to occasionally post a blog about music I have loved. I *strongly* associate music with previous experiences and life events. Songs bring those moments back almost as vividly as a smell. I suppose it has something to do with my hippocampus. I will be walking down an aisle at the grocery store and will have to stop in my tracks because a song will stir a memory so intense it's like it has transported me elsewhere. I was going through my song collections last night. Lots of fun. I thought I would start with:

"You Are My Sunshine" is the first song I can remember hearing. It was my favorite in a set of songs my parents would sing with me in the car. We would be going on long trips and we would sing "You Are My Sunshine", "Home on the Range", "Skiddle MuRinky" (questioning the spelling on that one), and others. This song also brings back memories of my first bedroom living with my parents. My bedroom looked out an open field full of tractors behind our house. The back of the house faced west, which made for a lot of struggle on my part in going to sleep during the summer. I remember light streaming in and hearing the voices of other kids playing outside. It was so completely unfair I couldn't be outside too. But my mom would sing this to me and it always made my heart happy (even if it wasn't showing on the outside).

It always was and always will be my dad and mom song. I sing it to my kids and it makes me think of them, still.

This particular version is by Elizabeth Mitchell and is on her album with the same title. It is the sweetest rendition I have found (other than my dad playing it on guitar, of course).

My Two Cents

2011-05-03T10:59:00.000-07:00

The other night I was on facebook. I began to leave to go look at another site, but as the new page loaded, I did a total double take. Had I just seen what I thought I saw? I pressed "back", and sure enough, "Bin Laden is dead". My friend Elaine had posted the news.

Immediately, I felt.........

I am not sure I want to say.

I am not sure I want to share my current feelings on the matter because there are a lot of judgmental comments floating around. I have found that different people are reacting in different ways to the news. My frustration is that some people are seeing this event in our history as yet one more opportunity to judge one another.

There are valid points coming from both sides of the issue, but I just want to underscore the fact that most of what we are experiencing is so much emotion, and so little reason. Since we can't actually do a whole lot about the situation, all we can do is feel things about it. But to say that one's person's feelings is right or wrong is to attack their character. Feelings are an intrinsic part of who we are--they are ingrained, and they are unstoppable.

Should I be happy? Should I be sad? Should I be relieved? Should I be numb? For now, I am trying to remain as neutral as I can because I am afraid. I am afraid of what people will think of me if I disclose how I feel about the whole thing. I am afraid that others will think my feelings are not the feelings I should be experiencing. And that is what I feel is more messed up than any other part of the issue. I definitely have opinions, but thanks to certain individuals I mostly keep them to myself (I had to learn to be mostly discrete the hard way when I voted for Obama).

I feel the people of our country are in constant defense-mode. Not against terrorists, but against each other. I am so tired of hearing about Republican vs. Democrat, Obama vs. Bush--but at the same time, I can't look away. It's like watching a schoolyard fight--it's fascinating and horrifying at the same time. I don't want to get beaten up, so I just stand there on the sidelines, trying to decide what I should do. In the meantime, I feel the very infrastructure that this country is built on is crumbling, and all anyone wants to do is argue about who punched the first hole in the wall.

Seeing the World in Negative

2011-03-07T19:10:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned before that Greg has this thing for painting and drawing. He has not had much time to take part in this "hobby" (though I think it's more than that) since we had kids. I have always found his art intriguing and more than a little sexy. One of the things he takes great joy in is drawing in negative--looking at the world backwards--filling in the negative spaces with dark so that the content of the art itself becomes light.

Some mornings I wake up and have epiphanies. This was one of those mornings.
I have been so backward in my thinking for the past seven years. I have become cynical, frustrated, angsty, and pissed off at God. People often ask "Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?" I am one of those people who has never had an answer, and has never been satisfied with the answers I have heard.

The other morning I was griping about this with Greg on a more specific level. "Greg? Why is God still making all this crap happen to us?" (this was about impending layoff notices--again). Greg looked at me and said, "What if God isn't the one who is making the crap happen? What if God is the one who is keeping worse things from happening?"

Well, I have been mulling this over for the past few days, and all of a sudden, while laying in my bed this morning it hit me. Greg was right! Just look at Job in the Bible. Pastors often talk about the last chapters of Job as being God just showing off His power. This is true, in part. But I think it was more that God was saying to a very whiny and depressed Job, "Look.. I could wipe this whole world out if I wanted to. I could destroy every single thing I have made." Essentially, "I brought you into this world, I can take you right back out."

I realized God does not "allow" bad things to happen to Greg and I any more than we "allow" Sam and Aunica to get hurt. They climb bookshelves and brick walls and then act surprised when they fall down and injure themselves. They hit each other and then act surprised when we discipline them.

This isn't to say there aren't bad things that happen to them outside of our control, but those things are just a part of living in this broken messed up world. God has gotten us through those things, faith-in-tact.

Noam Chomsky wrote of a Language Acquisition Device he believed we are all born with. According to him, we all have the capacity to learn language from the moment we are born, and actually begin learning language in the womb. Well, I believe God has put a Morality Acquisition Device inside the souls of each of us. We are born with a conscience, allowing us from the very beginning to tell the difference between what is right, and what is wrong. When bad things happen to good people, we know it is wrong because we have a sense of what should and should not be happening. God never intends for bad things to happen to us. But even when bad things do, He is not gone. He has not forgotten us. It is very likely that He is getting us through more than we know.

I believe every breath is a gift. Every single good thing in your life is a miracle. I look at my cat all curled up at my feet, hear my kids talking to Greg in the other room, realize I drove over 20 miles today without getting in a car accident. It could have been otherwise.

Otherwise
Jane Kenyon
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

This poem ends sounding somewhat pessimistic, but it is true. We all will die someday, we all will face the same end. BUT we have hope! And in the meantime, we should not spend our days being sad about the bad, but looking at the good. Because after all, it might have been otherwise.

Moving On

2011-02-22T16:31:00.001-08:00

Sometimes it will hit me that I am done making babies and it makes me *really* sad. Other times I am so relieved I want to do a happy dance. These kids of mine! I know, I know.. the kid blogs get old. But they are such an intrinsic, important, ridiculously perpetual part of my life, I can't exactly help it. To ignore them, would be to ignore myself.

Aunica is energy on speed. Sam is a skinny little enigma. I get tired of them. I love them. I wish they would grow up. I wish they would stay young. I hope they rebel so I know they are becoming independent. I hope they are good so I don't have to deal with the drama. I don't want them to get hurt. I want them to learn from their own mistakes. I want to have them near me. I want my own space. I want to buy them everything. I don't want to spoil them. I want hugs. I don't want to catch their colds. I want them to be childlike. Won't they please be quiet? I want to spend time with their dad. I want them to have a good relationship with him too. I want to be a good home-maker. I hate housework. I love watching them play outside. There are so many dangerous things in the back yard. I can't wait to play tooth fairy. I wish Sam wouldn't lose his adorable baby teeth. I hope they are brave. I hope they are careful. I hope Sam stays this vulnerable. I wish he'd stand up for himself more.

I want more. I don't want more.

2011-02-22T16:24:00.000-08:00

2011-01-18T16:20:00.000-08:00

Winter

2010-12-10T12:59:00.001-08:00

When I was little there was a view of a large blue house across an acre-sized field that we could see the back of from our own front windows. It was an old grand victorian--probably one of those that people bought all the supplies and blueprints for in a Sears and Roebuck Catalog from 1899. In the wintertime, that ornate old place looked positively ethereal. After the snow fell and the clouds had cleared and there was a full moon, everything reflected blue and white and grey. Because of the moon and colors, the house itself looked like it was glowing a bit. The field sparkled as did the icicles hanging from the neighbor's roof. Occassional deer would wander through the scene, looking for food. I remember standing in our dining room, staring at that old blue place -- yearning.

Another time we were driving home from Cedarville. We had just put on an MPAT Christmas performance. As we drove through the mountains, the uncontaminated snow silently waited on pine trees. Shadows played games with boulders partially hiding under drifts, and stars shimmered. I was with my friends, the car was warm. I was happy.

I inwardly dwell in winter. Sometimes, when I am feeling sad or anxious, thoughts of those scenes pop into my brain. Pine trees and moonbeams, twiggy leafless branches and stars call to me. I think I love Southern California for living life, but I think I love the mountains for dreams. I picture myself living in a house full of brass and bronze, tarnished silver and mahagony -- Christmas trees as tall as my 14-foot crown-moulded tin-embellished ceilings will allow -- wearing kid-gloves and capes and dresses with trains (and not having it be just "dressing up"). Candles and lanterns instead of flourescent bulbs. Violin Music. Burgundy-reds and forest greens. Our neighbors are at least 1/2 a mile away and the only thing you can see is occasional slices of stars through the giant fir trees surrounding our house.

But I want it the way I want it, though. The winter can't be cold. There must always be a fire to keep us warm. Aunica will love wearing dresses (she doesn't right now). And Greg will always be home.

My mental heaven.

Highlighting

2010-11-06T13:21:00.000-07:00

Warning: Boring information ahead:

I am studying right now, and I have been studying a lot recently. One of the things that keeps coming up in my head (distractingly, so) while I am reading is the use of highlighting as a tool for learning.

When I was in high school, a certain teacher held up a book for the class to see (mine)--using it as an example of "excessive use of highlighting". He then held up a classmate's book (don't recall who) as an example of "just the right amount of highlighting". It was defnitely noticeable, the difference between our two books. And it's not like I actually *use* the highlighted info later on. I think the reason I do it is to go over information twice--"Oh! That's important!" so I highlight it (while reading it again, I guess).

But it is EXASPERATING to me that I just can't get this stupid incident out of my head--and it still comes up while studying 14 years later.

During reading for my English classes, I wouldn't just highlight--I would write in the margins, I would underline twice. I would ruminate on and remember stuff that stood out. The stuff I am reading now is so straightforward no extraneous thoughts come to mind. There are no abstractions, no expansions to be made regarding the material I am reading in Anatomy or Language Development or Audiology. It's all fact-based. So instead of thinking about the material I am reading, I end up wondering if I am highlighting too much. And it is distracting and it is maddening

The end.

Finishing Statistics

2010-10-17T16:52:00.000-07:00

Never in my 29 years have I EVER worked so very hard for a class. I started statistics with fear and trepidation. I have never been very excited about math--let alone good at it. But honestly, of all of the math courses I have ever had to take, Statistics has been the most enjoyable. It has real life application, and that is helpful. I *see* what is going on and I really like that about it. I also have enjoyed having access to all these tools to help me do well--online calculators and Microsoft Excel.
I am surprised at how well I did. I don't know my final grade, but suffice it to say, I know I did better than I ever would have expected.
In opening my bookmarks just now, I ran across my "statistics help" folder, which actually made me say, "Awwww.. I won't be needing you any more, little Z-score calculator"...
Now onto grad school apps. Joy.

1:08 a.m. Randomness

2010-09-24T01:07:00.000-07:00

Things that are fabulous right now:

I got Greg this book for his birthday. It is chock full of geekalicious goodness -- time-space paradoxes, flow charts--who could ask for anything more?

In addition, as a late "celebration" for Greg's 40th, we are going here . This has become a semi regular yearly event for us. It's just a really great place to visit and be romantic and things.

I am doing Awana this year, which has been a lot more fun than I expected. Sam is in Sparks, and since I am a Sparks leader, I get to watch him do all sorts of super great things. Here is a link to him doing the pledge of allegience as practice for getting his vest and book. He also got up in front of his class and sang the Awana theme song and very sincerely told them about Adam and Eve and sin and the fall of mankind.

So far, I am doing fabulously with my own school studies, though I miss Greg/the kids. I literally spend about 10 hours per day studying. This is why I am up at 1:30 a.m. writing this post. I have had no down-time to speak of. But guess what. I am actually really happy. I don't have any of that weighed-down feeling anymore. I feel like I have a brain again. It has been extremely invigorating. I am still worried about Grad School acceptance, but God will take care of it. I really do have faith in that.

So that's what's new.

Can't I Just Love Jesus

2010-09-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

Without re-posting all those Christian status updates?

Goodness!

Where Have I Been???

2010-09-09T08:43:00.000-07:00

Things have been insane. Sam started school mid-August, and I am running around like the proverbial headless chicken. I am excited because I am getting closer to applying to graduate schools. I am nervous because I am getting closer to applying to graduate schools. I am taking 4 classes this term (5, if you count the one that is an anatomy class/lab combo as 2 classes). It is overwhelming, but good to have a big workload. I feel as though I am learning how to juggle more this way, which I am sure will be useful very soon.

In the meantime, Greg is turning 40 on the 12th. This has been difficult for me. Growing up as a pastor's kid, I have seen way too many single elderly people being lonely and sad to not care about Greg getting older. You are probably thinking,

"Dude, Crystal. You're the one who married a 32-year-old when you were 21. You asked for it."

And I think that to myself too. But then I remember how *worth it* Greg is--how much I cherish and love him and how God brought us together in a way that we couldn't have helped falling in love, even if we hadn't wanted to (which I actually kind of didn't at the time). But yeah, I am anticipating the last part of my life being spent alone. And that is hard. But this is how I prepare myself for things--I have to think about the worst because I hate being caught off guard more than I hate anticipating the inevitable.

For now, I am loving every minute I spend with my husband. And I am loving our kids, too. Which brings up another topic. Sam--he is preoccupied with death these days. A while back, my Great Aunt Ada passed away. Sam knew her and her death really impacted him. He keeps asking us when we are going to die--how old we are--if we are "healthy". Greg sees it as a sign of depth of character on Sam's part. It makes me feel bad for Sam, though. I don't want Sam thinking about these things. I want him being a kid--having fun chasing the animals/his sister around the house... pummeling things. But he does do those things too. So I guess he's ok. I guess I don't need to worry until he starts dressing like Greg did in high school, right?

Going Back To Work

2010-07-26T08:16:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about the future recently. As you may have seen in my last post, I am going back to school--probably "for reals" this time. And as I consider that somewhere down the road, I will very likely be taking on a real job, with real pay and real benefits, I panic. I don't panic because I don't like the thought of these things. I panic because I do. I worry that I am going into this for the wrong reasons--security, stability, knowing I have something to fall back on. Are these the right reasons to get into something?

But here's the thing: Greg has already had cancer once. He is 11 years older than me. We have two kids. If he died (I know it's a ridiculously morbid thought, but it's one we have to address), what would I do? Move back in with my parents?

And this house--this house is tiiiny. It feels so cramped to me sometimes I feel like the incredible hulk, and somehow, if I get too mad or something, the house will explode around me, and I will be standing there on our foundation with no walls. We've decided we are either going to add onto this one, or buy a new one. But that's not feasible right now... we need more money in order to do that. We are 100 grand upside-down on the house the way it is right now.

And I feel sorry for our kids. They are here at home all day with their bored and cranky mother--how stagnant I feel being here all day. I am realizing the whole super-mom label doesn't fit quite right (even though it feels like that's what I should expect from myself, since I am only a mom right now). How I get antsy and angsty, and how ungrateful I feel all the time. I feel like a fairy-tale princess pining away in her castle, waiting for life to happen. I am realizing this *is* life and there is nothing to be done but to do something about it. I wish I could be content with talking about the kids 24-7 with other mothers--bad mouthing my husband and renovating and moving furniture around and sanitizing. Honestly, as much as I have hated studying for the GRE, I find it preferable to "home-making". And as much as it sounds like I have scorn for women who choose to stay home with their kids, I actually find them amazing. I wonder how they do it with enjoyment.

So, ultimately, I come to the conclusion that my motives are right... that my working is the lesser of two evils--that I would rather be tired from work and happy to come home than tired of home and want to go back to work.

What To Do Next?

2010-07-21T14:13:00.000-07:00

So I am working on a degree in Speech and Language Pathology. I am more than a little freaked out right now. I am such a wimp when it comes to getting things done, and that is because I am deathly afraid of things not working out. I don't know where this comes from. Generally, my life has been handed to me on a silver platter. Sure, I've had my moments of hardship (especially in the past 5 years or so), but this all started way before that. Maybe I've been told I'm not good enough? Maybe I tell myself I'm not good enough? Either way, here is what I have to accomplish in the next 12 months or so.

-Pass the GRE with a score of 1200 or better
-Find professors willing to give me stellar letters of recommendation
-Raise my GPA from 3.16 to 3.3 or better
-Take statistics
-Take 30 other units of online classes
-Apply to grad school
-Get accepted to grad school

I'm feeling really overwhelmed. I just don't know what to do with all of this, and am trying to prioritize and figure out what should come next.

I would appreciate prayers from anyone who reads this

Those Special Moments (Part I)

2010-07-05T12:57:00.000-07:00

Have you ever thought about how some specific points of growing up are utterly disturbing in nature? And yet, we celebrate over them. Our parents told us these events were "special" and their parents told them the same thing. Who knows how far back this brainwashing really goes. I think humans do this so the freakishness of these events will not seem so alarming. Also, kids are wonderfully gullible, impressionable little suckers. For example:

CHILDHOOD ME:
So I am six years old, taking a bite out of an apple and one of my front teeth literally falls out. This. Is. FABULOUS!!! Some of my fellow classmates have also lost their tooth, and they have gotten immediate bragging rights. I get to give said tooth to the teacher, she announces it to the class and I am so excited. I take it home in an envelope. That night, the tooth fairy comes. She leaves me a note (my goodness, her handwriting is exactly like my mother's) and a dollar in quarters. From that day on, I am tooth-loss obsessed. I go so far as to let my friend Mandi play dentist and extract my teeth for me over lunch recesses (even when they are not completely ready to come out). I earn a whopping 4 dollars in 1st grade, alone! People on the street tell me I look cute and my parents tell me I look cute too. There is nothing better than this.

ADULT ME:
Really, Crystal? You weren't disturbed by this? Your teeth fall out and you are happy about it? I recently realized Sam is getting relatively close to the age I was when I lost my first tooth. As I often do to my son, I thought I would do a psychological experiment on him. I love getting to be the person who sees his face when he's told about things of this nature. I was not expecting a positive reaction. As predicted in my hypothesis, Sam was extremely weirded out by this revelation, and immediately covered his mouth with his hand, emphatically pointing out that he would like to keep his teeth.

God bless whoever came up with the idea of the tooth fairy, though. Now Sam is stoked. Like his mother in kindergarten, he has now heard of the joys of toothlessness from friends at school and family members and he is no longer afraid. I am glad of this, because I don't want him freaked out over something that can't be helped. He is blissfully unaware that it is highly likely that when he is 80, he will start losing his teeth again--this time with no replacements. And there will be no rejoicing. People will say, "Oh, poor Sam" and avert their eyes as he inserts his dentures.

Not only is the tooth fairy myth awesome for its calming properties, but also for the fact that it allows parents to dispose of (or at least hide away) the teeth their children have lost. Greg recently had a wisdom tooth pulled at the dentist. We took it home so Greg could show Sam. When we told Sam he couldn't keep Greg's tooth (we knew we'd find it around the house), and we were just showing it to him, he was heartbroken. Teeth are pretty icky--kind of like toenail clippings and hair from hairbrushes. It's not like any parent really wants to make a necklace out of their kids teeth or anything. That would be so completely culturally unacceptable. So, when you think about it, you realize the tooth fairy acts rather like a broker ("You give me your tooth, I'll give you a dollar!"). What a deal! Everybody wins.

We believe our parents when they tell us things are special. But once kids experience these things, sometimes there is no joy in mudville and there is no turning back.

I had surgery when I was 9. I got my adenoids out. In order to lessen the anxiety over undergoing the knife, the doctor and my parents both encouraged me by saying I would get to eat all the ice cream I wanted.

As I woke up from surgery, I started vomiting like I had been on an all-night drinking binge. Ice cream was the furthest thing from my mind. I was much wiser the second time I had to have the operation (my adenoids grew back) and nobody even bothered to try to calm my heart. We all knew what I was in for. This time, I got a bike instead.

The best example for me and a million others, though:

The whole collective experience of adolescence/puberty was SUCH a letdown. I went to public school. Toward the end of 4th grade, we were given a two-hour rundown of what we were about to experience in our "tween" years, as well as some of the things that would come further down the road. The girls stayed in Mrs. Carsten's room, and the boys went to talk to Mr. Harder. We watched a video starring an actress who had played Annie on Broadway, who told us all about our changing bodies, sex, getting pregnant, and periods and all of the extra hair we would be getting. The boy stuff pretty much remained a mystery (we were given a few disgusting details), which was fine with me at the time.

Sex didn't sound all that appealing to me (guh-ross), but for some reason, periods did (yay?). This became the equivalent to first grade's tooth loss, and we girls awaited our first cycles with the expectancy of a slumber party. We also got very competitive about it. Whoever got their periods first was obviously way more "mature" than anybody else and therefore way cooler. Periods came with "accessories", and you got to chose from a whole variety of options. My mom also promised we'd go out for ice cream whenever "it" happened. I couldn't wait.

Three years later-- oh wow, what a wakeup call. I will spare you the details, but I remember the bathroom, my mom standing in the doorway, me weeping, "I HATE this!". I also remember thinking, "Ice cream is so not worth this". Welcome to PMS, 12-year-old self..

Having boobs was not rewarding in any way, shape, or form (no pun intended) either. If boys noticed, I wasn't noticing them noticing--and I was still too gawky and awkward to know how to dress to make them look good (and my mom sure wasn't telling me). And bras were annoying beyond belief.

And my butt was suddenly really droopy. And I had cellulite (before you go and chew out my mother, nobody told me this. I noticed it on my own) And I constantly was cutting myself shaving my legs. And suddenly I was stinky and having to shower all...the...time if I didn't want to be stinky. And I ravenously liked boys even though I didn't want to. My friends and I were becoming cattier and more competitive than ever.

I didn't feel grown up.. I just felt miserable. I didn't like myself. I remember grieving because I literally felt childhood slipping away. It was extremely sad to me, and I missed that wonderment and innocence.

But I am sure that as my children continue to grow, I will tell them most of the same things my parents told me. If I had known how annoying and embarrassing and disgusting a lot of the things that were going to happen were, I probably would have closed myself up in my room and never have come out. I am glad I was able to live in some ignorance of what was to come. Life was a little bit more fun because of it.

A Controversy of a Very Serious Nature

2010-06-06T13:52:00.000-07:00

So Greg and I are debating an extremely important problem that is pertinent to the generation before us, as well as any generations that will succeed us after we are gone.

The question is this:

In the song "Do a dear" from "The Sound of Music", there is one line whose meaning has become a source of great contention between Greg and myself, as found out this morning as I was brushing my teeth:

"La...a note to follow So"

Greg is under the impression (I say wrongfully), that the word "note" pairs with "La" in that law can be reinterpreted as "Law". Therefore, the line means that La is (within the context of the song), a law to be followed in a certain way (so).

I, however, believe that the line is actually rather lame, and has no other "special" meaning other than what it says, because obviously a law is not a "note". Money, yes. Laws? No. I am thinking the writers couldn't come up with anything more clever than one note following another.

Thoughts? We are having a very difficult time with this one. Lawyers.. can the word "law" be synonymous with the word, "note"? (Please say no because I'd so love to be right on this one).

Cancer Scares

2010-05-24T08:22:00.000-07:00

They come more frequently than I would like. Greg will feel something down there that doesn't go away and will later tell me.

And as Greg tells me he's found a new lump (this has happened 4 times now, twice since his vasectomy)-- every time it is the same.

I can't speak for Greg. I don't know what his heart and mind go through when he finds something new. Inevitably he lets me know of what's going on while he is at work, so I am often alone with the kids when I find out.

And what I go through is starting to get familiar, but it is definitely not getting any friendlier.

I get this weird cold vibrating feeling that starts at the back of my head and travels down my neck--almost like someone put ice there.. at first the feeling is completely physical and I feel no emotion other than shock. And then I can't say anything for a minute. And then I say, "Are you sure?" And of course, he is sure. And then I try to reason with him--come up with some logical explanation for why there is a lump on his testicle (as if there is any "normal" reason for such a thing to happen). Then the panic sets in, and then I feel light-headed and like throwing up and then I start crying. And then I usually call one or both of my parents and weep to them ("What will HAPPEN to him????"). And they don't actually have the answers I think I need, and I am annoyed at myself for freaking them out before we really know anything. But it is good to hear their voices anyway.

But it stays like that--I feel insane and completely distraught for as long as we don't know Greg's ok.

And I plead with God--beg Him to let this not be happening again.

And I try not to, but I can't help it --I go ahead a month... three months... a year in my mind and imagine the inevitable stuff we will go through if it is what we don't want it to be. I see Greg recovering from another surgery, Greg's parents taking care of the kids--frazzled and scared, Greg going for more rounds of chemo (this time there will have to be more because it is a recurrence), Greg being violently ill because of an out-of-order immune system, Sam bringing home more illness from school, me staying up all hours of the night, sick myself with the kids sick too...

I skip imagining the Greg dying part--it's just too horrible to imagine. I go straight to me alone, having to figure out the bills, the mortgage, not having a job, moving back in with my parents, Greg's parents a painful reminder of their son...

Thoughts like this remain until Greg is able to see a doctor. And then Greg and I go to the doctor and the doctor will either say something reassuring or say they don't know for sure and Greg should go get an ultrasound to be sure.

We got lucky this time--Greg's doctor was so certain it was epididymal cyst, he didn't even send Greg for an ultrasound.

Seriously.. how many men can say they are relieved they have a cyst on their testicle? But we are always relieved by anything that isn't cancer.

"Oh, you mean it's just a cyst forming because of some traumatic injury to my epydidimus? Sweet!"

But we still want to be cautious about how we approach it, because hope is flighty and unreliable. We almost fear hope more than we fear cancer itself. Trust me--it is not better to have hoped and lost than not to have hoped at all. There is comfort in expecting the worst because the worst can never let you down.

But later on, the hope comes anyway. I find myself feeling a little lighter. And I thank God a million times, and hug 50 Greg times more often than normal, and I can play with the kids without feeling distracted, and I am breathing again.

It is good to get good news.

But...

I know many of my friends and family have actually been further down this road than I have ever been, and as a result, I often feel really jumpy in my reactions to Greg's bodily idiocyncracies. It makes me feel like I am being selfish because Greg *did* make it through the first time around. So many people don't get that lucky. Survivor's guilt.

I know I blow things way out of proportion. I know that deep down, I will always be paranoid of the words "lump" and "tumor" and that that is ridiculous. But sometimes, when you have been through something awful, your fear outweighs your mind. And you don't have any clue as to why you react the way you do--you just know that you are afraid.

And the fear is always there crouched in the corner of your brain. It gets smaller, but it never really does go away.. not completely. You end up wrapping your life around the fear instead. It is always there at the center, but it is cut off until the next scare. And then it grows and shrinks again--kind of like a tumor of its own.

Symbols of AnxietyTransformed To Symbols of Hope

2010-05-16T13:24:00.001-07:00

It's funny how certain mundane, seamingly meaningless, things take on a lot of importance depending on the situation you are in.

I've been staring at this ID card for Aunica's Medical Insurance every day. Since Greg got his preliminary layoff, that ID card has come to mean "May 30th"--the day that our insurance would expire if Greg got that final layoff notice.

Greg's ties, hanging on the coat hanger in the living room have meant days spent not knowing whether he would need a tie in upcoming months.

The calendar on the fridge has meant a constant countdown to the day when we might be without work.

The checkbook and debit card have meant money disappearing and maybe stopping coming.

Oh, and the gas price signs? Don't even get me started on those.

You begin to realize that it's not that you are worried about the *stuff* you have. It's worries about maintaining life as you know it. It's about uprooting once again. It's about having to wonder if you are going to have to move in with your parents or in-laws. It's about having to figure out if you can pay for insurance, mortgage, and bills on a substitute teacher's salary alone. It's about those practical things that you always take for granted.

God is definitely not letting us take anything for granted. Ever. And I am actually thankful for that. Because when we lived in Whittier, I was miserable. I couldn't pin it down to anything at the time, but now I think I just had it too, uh, cushy? Life was just too easy. It never felt anything but.. mundane. Since 2004, we have had nothing but upheaval, but if nothing else, you can say it has kept life interesting.

It's nice to worry sometimes.

So yesterday, we were supposed to get Greg's layoff notice. We didn't. We still could get it tomorrow, but I am hopeful that it won't come. And Greg is too. And we are all dancy and excited because we get to stay in our house and we get to relax just a little more.

And slowly, the insurance card is beginning to mean we will have insurance for one more year. And the bank accounts are not going to tap out. And we are going to be able to buy gas. And there will be another calendar on the fridge.

It's good to have a little of both hope and fear. I'm glad life isn't too easy. Things are more interesting and I am more grateful this way.

(But that doesn't mean I really want another layoff notice next year)

Grandpa Campbell

2010-05-13T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think of him just out of the blue.

He was a the best grandpa a little girl could ask for. All I remember of him are good things. I honestly can't remember having one negative thought toward him. The things that were strange about him, they were just quirks--they weren't *bad*, just funny. He was charasmatic and joyful. He always was smiling and was the most kind-hearted person I think I've ever met.

Trips to Reno (where we'd go pick him up at the airport) were some of the best traveling experiences of my life. I remember he would sit in the front seat, and I would always sit directly behind him. I remember staring at the back of his bald head and saying, "Hi Grandpa!" just because I didn't have anything else to say--I was just happy he was there.

I don't know why my assocations with childhood and Grandpa are so interlinked, but they are. Maybe it's because he was a person who truly knew how to love, and all the best things about childhood had him as a part of them--Christmases, Thanksgivings, Birthdays, Summers... he made sure to be there for many of them from my adoption to just before I turned 7.

He was giving, gracious--my mom says he was a "man without guile. He loved books, and therefore was totally excited to read to me. I think he was a major factor in me becoming kind of a ravenous reader.

He was a definite lover of Southern California and lived there his whole life. I think that love rubbed off on me quite a bit. I still have this palm tree obsession, even though I see them all the time around here. I have yet to have one of my own. We're trying to grow one, but it's really little and so it doesn't count.

He took us to Disneyland twice. Those were the best trips to Disneyland I can remember.

Grandpa was sophisticated, but not pretentious. He loved anything classy--old movies and musicals were his favorites. He had been a tour guide and gave garden tours in Europe. He was very in-the-know when it came to new technologies. We have home movies he put together from when *he* was a young man, up to home movies from when my sister and I were little. Greg was touched when he saw all the home movies of me. He said, "Wow. Grandpa Campbell really loved you."

My mom says he was short, but I remember him being tall. I suppose that is because I was little the last time I saw him, and maybe because I looked up to him so much.

I was devastated when he died, even though I was only seven years old. It was a month before my 7th birthday. We were expecting him to come to visit, and I am still feeling like it was pretty unfair for him to go and leave like that. It's only because he was such a great person. I would have kept him around forever. I wish he could have met my kids.

Grandpa, I love you and miss you and can't wait to see you again someday.

Thank God for Happy Endings

2010-05-02T19:54:00.000-07:00

So today we had a scare with Aunica. Well, to be more accurate, I was more scared than I probably should have been. Greg kept pretty cool. Though he was at home.

Oh, you want an explanation? Okay.

Aunica came down with a 101 degree fever during her naptime today. Fevers are not unusual in this family for the most part, but when Aunica gets them, they are rather mysterious. She is a tough little cookie, as well as non-verbal (for the most part) and so you can't tell if she's just over-heated, sick, getting sick or what. I had noticed her pulling on her ears so I decided it was probably an ear infection.

So, we drove the 40 minutes to Fontana and went to Urgent Care. We got in quickly, which was nice, but then the doctor could find nothing *really* wrong. But then he said the dreaded words:

"I think I'll test her urine"

See, there's this funny thing about being a new parent. There are these things people don't tell you you will become paranoid of: the first time your kid gets sick (not just cold-sick--I mean *sick* to the point if you aren't sure if they are going to be ok) it just about kills you. As you probably already know, Aunica's brother, Sam had urinary issues when he was two weeks old that hospitalized him and traumatized both him and us. He underwent multiple invasive tests which involved needles, catheters, continuous radiating for an hour (not to mention much screaming on Sam's part and weeping on our part)...

It turns out Sam had urinary reflux, a relatively common problem in infants and toddlers--Sam's was a higher grade and he was given a 30% chance of recovering from the reflux on his own--surgery if he didn't. He was on antibiotics for the first 2 1/2 years of his life, but we took them off when we realized he was getting 1/3 the dose he needed (the doctor hadn't updated us on dosage, age and weight so we thought we were doing fine) So far, he has not had another UTI and he is almost 5.

But even though he has been fine, I have thought the beginning of every illness was a sign of something worse--something more drastic, something dangerous and life-threatening. He sneezes and I say, "Are you ok? Do you feel alright?" And I know it is wrong, but I still worry about him because I am caught off guard by my love for him all the time--this completely unrelenting love that won't let me not be devastatingly afraid of things being wrong with him.

So when the doctor said he wanted to test Aunica for a Urinary Tract Infection(because she was otherwise symptom-free), this huge battle between my heart and brain broke out.

My irrational mommy-heart was saying, "No, please God, no. I don't want to go through this again.. not with Aunica, too."

And my brain was saying "Yes, there is and was a 50% chance she would have Sam's defect, too. We knew this was a possiblity."

And then my heart said, "Maybe if she does have a UTI, somehow I could disinfect the urine so they wouldn't be able to tell, and then she won't need further testing."

And then my brain said, "That is just ridiculous. If she has a UTI, she needs TREATMENT, you dolt. You can't just wish it away."

So, we slapped a urine bag on her (yes, it is an adhesive bag that collects urine for testing). Aunica *hated* the thing. I stood in the bathroom at Kaiser for 45 minutes coaxing her to pee into the bag (she's not at all potty trained yet). Finally she did pee and we got to turn it into the lab.

Kaiser is pretty good about getting labs done quickly and the results were in as soon as I got home. Everything was within normal ranges and there were no indications of UTIs whatsoever.

I went and kissed Aunica up and thanked God for making her a-ok and suddenly was starving.

So that's my emotional journey for the day.

Worry

2010-04-26T12:47:00.000-07:00

I am a chronic worrier. My life has been based on worry and fear for, well, just about 6 years now. I've been married 7 years this August. Which basically means that the vast majority of my married life has been spent creating more wrinkles in my forehead than most people my age. I would also say I am 70% gray-haired at this point (thank God for hair dye).

But recently, I've been realizing something that should be super obvious, and probably is to most people.

Worrying really gets me nowhere.

I have spent countless hours freaking out over smallish things--money, Greg's job, my future career, how Sam will do in school, the car breaking down... you get the idea.

All of these worries are very practical, which makes them feel sane. But worry isn't sane. It makes you feel worse inside than you feel when you are sick, and it can actually *make* you sick in that stress can lower your resistance to illness and cause problems with digestion, and it ages people.

I have also been really snippy and irritable with my family, which makes our home life rather miserable. Greg comes home from a stressed out day at work to a stressed out wife. That does not help him any more than it helps me.

So, I've been intentionally trying *not* to worry for about 3 days now. I have been trying to take a 'que sera' approach toward all my fears. God is going to do what God is going to do. Worst case senario? Greg loses his job, we lose our home, our kids are put in foster care, we move to the street and die of starvation. I mean, if we're talking about taking it to the ultimate extreme--but I really doubt that's going to happen, because we have people surrounding us who love us and will help us through whatever happens. But even if that *were* to happen, we would be in heaven.

The worst thing that ever happened to our family was Greg getting cancer. It was not something expected, and it was not something that could be helped (other than treating it once we knew it was there). God got us through it, though, and if we can get through that, I think we can get through just about anything.

We are still praying for all the other stuff still...

Having kids

2010-04-20T16:01:00.000-07:00

Is like falling in love a little every day.

Helping Haiti

2010-04-15T15:51:00.000-07:00

I read a report recently about how unqualified people were messing up rescue efforts in Haiti.

This makes me sooooo angry and defensive for those who went and didn't make the cut of being worthy of being there. Can you imagine how you would feel, spending thousands of dollars to fly to Haiti to physically be there and help out (because who knows where the money you sent really went), only to be told to go back home because you aren't good enough?

Dude, rescue workers. Just give the well-meaning helpers a job to do. Hand them a shovel or something. It's not that difficult. Or are they just interrupting your own amazingness?

The article said something about how everyone wants to be a hero, and it just doesn't work that way. Oh, so you are saying you are definitely heroes, but anybody who doesn't have a 4-day training to work for red cross is inferior? To me that just screamed of arrogance and self-superiority. I am fuming. Really.

Honest Scrap?

2010-04-14T10:30:00.001-07:00

Thanks, Rachel for the nomination. I feel so special. Are there seven people who read this blog? If so, I nominate all of you to do this as well. I guess I'm supposed to write 10 interesting things about myself and my nominees (you) are supposed to do the same.

So here goes:

1. I have a weird thing for candy. And I don't mean just adult-oriented candy (although Godiva chocolate is the bees knees). I am really a huge fan of immature, childish candies. Zots, everlasting gobstoppers, candies shaped like brains--you name it, I probably like it. I am pretty obsessed with mall-based sweet factory stores and would rather go candy shopping than clothes shopping any day (and it has been like this as long as I can remember). The counter employees are always a little taken aback when I gleefully hand them my bagfull of confectionary novelties and debit card. I guess they must be used to seven-year-olds with their allowances. Greg is suprisingly supportive of this little obsession of mine, and often participates as well.

2. I grew up a country girl and really hate country music with a passion. Most people in my town were huge fans, but I just could not bring myself to enjoy it.

3. I was 16 when I had my first kiss and was a virgin when I married Greg.

4. Confession. I love my Kindle. Okay. You can quit booing now. Seriously. This thing is the bomb. When I finished college as an English major, I was sick of books. I mean, I-didn't-want-to-read-another-book-again-in-my-life sick. But when my parents bought me this Kindle for my birthday last year, I was able to fall back in love with reading again. It's transportable, it's fun, you can clip a booklight on it without having to re-adjust pages later, your hands don't get tired of holding it open because you don't have to hold it open, and the books are cheap if not free. I know owning a Kindle (or any other e-reader) is the cardinal sin of the *true* book lover, but if I'm not a book lover, I'm an e-book lover. (I do miss the smell of new books sometimes though).

5. I like the thought of collecting, but can't decide on what to collect. I like rocks, I like unicorns, I like fairies, I used to like cows (though this is getting old)... I think I'd go with unicorns and fairies if I had an extra room to fill, but I don't and I can't.

6. Southern California reminds me of my Grandpa Campbell (mom's dad) who lived here, and I think that is the biggest reason I love it so much. Good memories, good associations.

7. I abhor the smell of baby powder and feel like gagging every time we have to walk down the baby isle at the grocery store.

8. I have lost 14.5 pounds since March 1st, 2010. Sweet, huh? I'm on a roll!

9. We sort of named our son Sam after Samwise in The Lord of the Rings (Samwise means half-wit in Old English, so we chose Samuel for him instead, which means heard of God). And we named Aunica after the borg character, Seven of Nine's real name from Star Trek Voyager (you'd get it if you'd seen it).

10. I insanely love my husband's artwork. He has a gift and I wish he had more time to draw.

Letter To Dad In Belize

2010-04-12T08:14:00.000-07:00

My dad and mom are in Belize at the moment. They have been there for about a week. They left last Sunday night. This is the first year my mom has gone. My dad has been doing this for about 5 years now. And every year I worry. I worry he's going to get Oregon Trail Style Dysentery, Malaria, or the very worst possible thing you can acquire in central America (in my opinion): a Bot Fly .

Prayer is a good thing because my parents were in a pretty bad accident on the way and were miraculously un-harmed. It was raining and as a result, hydroplaned, hit the center divider and bounced across four lanes of freeway near San Francisco. They were not hit by any cars and were basically just sore afterward. They are either real troopers, or kind of insane because they still went to Belize anyway. It does sound like they have been doing fine, though my dad does tend to play down drama a lot. I haven't heard from my mom. I'll let you know how they are doing after they get home.

Anyway--after hearing about all of this, I got really upset for a few days. What if they *hadn't* been fine. Everything has been fine up until now. Honestly--my childhood was kind of a breeze. There are always issues in *any* family, and we have definitely had our fair share. But I wasn't ever beaten, I never dealt with a drunken parent. I was never molested. I don't mean to discount the problems we did have, and I am not pretending there were none. But they were relatively small compared to what some kids go through. And my parents are my parents no matter what our problems were, and I would love them no matter what--as much as I know they would me.

So, after the accident, and I finally got an email from my dad, I got all teary and missed my mom and dad like crazy. And more than that, I missed being a kid again--being taken care of. I missed my mom's cool hand on my forehead when I was sick. I missed being taken to the pool. I missed my allowance. I missed being told I needed to be home by a certain time. I missed having others being responsible for me. All the responsibility of being an adult/wife/parent is heavy duty stuff and it would be nice to have some occassional, I don't know.. lightness once in a while--to have someone be in charge of me because sometimes I feel like I don't really know how to be in charge of myself yet (let alone two little people of my own). But I am doing my best at what I am doing now. And we are going to visit Mom and Dad in June--a trip I am crazily looking forward to.

Anyway.. here's an excerpt from an email I wrote to my Dad in Belize:

Hi guys!

It's a positively BEAUTIFUL day. I mean it's a 72-degrees-smelling-of-fresh-cut-grass-and-golden-sunshine-through-new-leaves-making-everything-sparkly kind of beautiful. Which makes me miss being little and getting popsicle sticky and aquiring sunburns at the Alturas pool and riding horses at Josanna's house and the worst problem in my life being not knowing what to do and being bored and having to practice piano. You guys made childhood easy and fun--and I kind of miss that these days.

So I am super excited to get back to Alturas and re-experience my childhood again in June. I am excited to sit out on the sidewalk and spit cherries with Karlie. And maybe I can help Dad garden a lil' and maybe Mom and I can take walks. Homemade popsicles must be a part of it too. Oh, and barbeques. We are hoping to take Sam to the caves--we think he's really going to like them. We are also going to have to test out tent camping in the front yard for a night and see if the kids are up to it yet.

Things we've done today:

-Our lilac tree is in full bloom. I didn't even know we had a lilac tree when we bought the house so it was a happy surprise when they started popping out the next spring.
I cut a sprig and put it in a vase inside. Not quite fragrant enough to cover up the smell of kids/cat/dog, but almost.

-We went out to La Mirada last night for what will probably be the last time. We'll really have no reason to go out there anymore without Paul and Kristin living there. They are probably going to be out here on the 27th of this month--moving in. So we said goodbye to the house and went to the Swap Meet. Found some killer nail polish and a mood ring (yeah--like I said--I miss my childhood).

-Greg still doesn't know anything about his job, but is still feeling pretty hopeful.

-I've lost 13 pounds since starting my diet on March 1st. Not bad, eh? Maybe I'll be all skinny when we get there!

-I am turning 29 this year. TWENTY-NINE! Is that insane? I am freaking out. But worse--Greg is going to be FORTY! We haven't decided what we're going to do--maybe have a party in the back yard with twinkle lights and champagne. I've always wanted to have a party like that. I think a 40th birthday would be a good excuse.. don't you?

-Well--I have to go take care of the kids. Sam has been running around in the sprinklers and Aunica just joined him. Better go make sure they're not dying of hypothermia.

I love you guys. Glad you are having a good time, but I am definitely looking forward to you being back home--SAFE. And yes--Dad, I totally think it's time for your miata.

Love you so much

XOXOXO,
Crystal

Because Rachel Is Tired of Me Not Blogging

2010-04-12T08:00:00.001-07:00

So I am bad at being a regular blogger. I guess it's possibly because only one or two people ever comment on the occassional emotional barfing that lands here. I have three followers (as far as I can tell) And I am narcissistic enough to care.

There is another reason I don't blog very often, and that is I often say things that get me in trouble. I seem to have this subconcious urge to make political/church-related/relationship-related commentary and I end up wishing I hadn't said what I said. I *do* tend to care what other people think, and snarky comments make me sad. Like, curl-up-in-a-ball-and-cry-to-Greg-sad. And then Greg will say things like, "Well, just don't post anything controversial". And then I agree, but then I feel like I'm not... contributing anything worthwhile.

So, faithful followers. Should I just suck it up and post what I am thinking, no matter what and suffer the consequences (maybe not having everyone like me?)? Or should I just post less-frequent, meek, quiet-like blogs that aren't controversial? Or should I just not blog at all?

To follow will be a not-so-controversial post: a letter I wrote to my dad who is in Belize.

When It Rains, It Pours

2010-03-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

Joy.

I need it because this has been one hellish week so far.

Oh my goodness. Here is what has been going down. (Feel free to give me pity/sympathy).

Problemo Numero Uno:
Greg (along with another 290-or-so other teachers) is most likely going to get another R.I.F. (layoff) notice this year. It will most likely get rescinded, but it's just one of the little black rainclouds making us blue.

#2:
Greg's school is in the bottom 5% of schools in California. And as much as Greg has had to work his butt off to get the thumbs up from his adminstrators, he has kind of gotten used to them. Now the school district is looking at replacing his principal. And Greg does not like that. It makes him nervous. In the meantime, he has 4 CSTs in the next two weeks.

#3:
We are in trouble with the City of Yucaipa again. Thanks to some hapless intern, our file was pulled and the city is looking into whether or not we have to destroy Sam's room and our dining room and convert them back into what used to be a garage. A word to the wise: when buying a houe, make sure to check out whether or not everything in/on/around it is permitted. For now, we are just waiting for an inspector to come out and examine our home to make sure it's exactly how the city would like it to be. Even though we already know it's not.

#4:
Sam is starting *real* school next year. We are really unsure of what we are doing right now as far as that goes. We're hoping we can get him into the charter school. The other option is to beg the district to let us put him in a different school than our zoning would allow. The public school he is supposed to be going to does not look/sound so hot from what we have heard from other parents.

#5:
Greg's computer got attacked by a nasty spyware program today and I don't really know how to fix it. Hopefully Greg does because it's not looking good.

#6:
I am having an unbelievably difficult time getting my undergraduate work done for SLP. It has become such a headache. I just know whether I'm supposed to be doing this. It's like forcing puzzle pieces that don't fit.

God's good. And I know he will work all of this out the way He wants to. But sometimes it's just so difficult to trust Him.

On the happier side of things, Aunica turned 2 on the 8th. Yay!

Help A Cat IN Need?

2010-01-19T18:38:00.001-08:00

So, I was at Stater Bros Grocers with my offspring today. We were in the pet-food aisle and I was commenting about how much our cat eats to Sam and Aunica.

As often is the case, there was another human being in the pet department with us. As is not often the case, however, I was chatting it up with my kidlettes, and this woman interrupted me and said, "Sorry, but did I hear you say you have a cat?"

She then proceeded to break into tears. She said, "I'm sorry. It's just that my mom just died and I can't find a home for her cat. He's all alone. And my boyfriend is allergic."

Being the pushover that I am, I said if she'd give me her phone number, I'd talk to my husband about the situation and let her know later.

Of course Greg said, "No".

So here we are--involved with a woman who's name I can't remember who is taking care of her dead mother's cat. I have her number, but don't know what to tell her now other than, "I hear the pound takes animals".

According to her, the cat is male but fixed, and de-clawed.

If you are interested, please contact me.

Thanks!

Crystal

Ada

2010-01-05T13:58:00.001-08:00

My Great Aunt Ada died yesterday. She was in her late nineties (I had a hard time keeping track because she was very reluctant to tell you her real age).

We are losing a treasure.

From childhood until college, my desire was to write her off as just another crotchety old lady with weird taste in food. That would have made it more simple--easier to say goodbye.

At first glance, Ada was not all that loveable. On the surface, she was a prickly disciplinarian--a former school teacher/principal with more than 40 years of experience with unruly children under her belt. Ada believed in order, manners, and cleaning up your plate. She'd endured the great depression and her frugality was exemplary. She never married. She was prim, proper, *ALWAYS* concerned about her hair and attire (she fell a number of times in the past few years--and even at 3:00 in the morning after a night in the emergency room she'd ask us how her hair looked). She liked to give my sister and I "pointers" on such things as posture, talking back, and our eating habits when we were kids. I felt slightly afraid of her growing up because her scrutiny seemed really severe to me.

*But* as I grew up, I began to get to know her better and I found out there were so many little surprising, quirky things about Ada that utterly forced me to love her.

I found out she was a huge fan of the grandiose and beautiful. She took us to see Kimberly Crest (a 100+ year-old Victorian mansion in Redands) a number of times. Uptown Redlands itself is devastatingly pretty--everything you want Southern California to be, and uptown Redlands was where Ada (and two of her sisters) made her home.

She went and saw the movie "Titanic" three times in the theater when it came out. She loved the live broadway version of "The Lion King" and went and saw it at the Pantages when it was there. I guess this surprised me because I knew at least one of her siblings was of the conviction that most forms of entertainment were sinful. I had just assumed she would have been of the same opinion as them. I was pleasantly surprised by her open-mindedness and this was one of the first things that let me feel a bit of a bond with her.

On the even-more-suprising side, she had a 20-some-odd-year-old bottle of Kahlua in the cupboard above her fridge that was still mostly full (she must have only taken it out for certain visitors--who were they? I don't know. She never offered me any).

She once told me she almost got married as a young woman, but when the opportunity to move from Nebraska to California arose, she came out here instead. She got misty-eyed when she told me the story--a thing that *does not* happen that often with many of the elder Bodmers, so I know this boy had meant a lot to her.

She was a world traveler, and had been everywhere from Paris to the Taj Mahal. She taught school in Germany and was fluent in the German language. There is a cute story Ada loves to tell: When some American students and administrators came to visit Ada's school in Germany, the principal Ada worked under got up to speak at a dinner they were having. Using his very best English, the principal said, "I thank you so very much for coming. I thank you from the *heart of my bottom*. This story made Ada laugh super hard every time she told it.

I found out that Ada knew Greg's grandma years-back. Ada, her sister Tillie, and Greg's grandma Evelyn Mehring sat together at First Baptist Church Yucaipa. Tillie and Evelyn would pass notes and Ada would give them scolding looks. (Small world, right?)

At Ada's retirement community, Plymouth Village, Ada had a friend named of Martin Munz who had also been a principal at Redlands Unified. He unabashedly called Ada his "girlfriend" and visited her apartment on a regular basis. We loved to tease Ada about Martin, and she always got all embarrassed and blush-y whenever we mentioned his name.

Probably because she never married, Ada was extremely close to her family. She sent out an extensive yearly christmas letter for as long as she was able. She also made disasterously good Christmas food and sent us a box of Redlands oranges and christmas goodies every year. I still associate those Redlands oranges with Christmas whenever I see them in the store. I also *loved* the candied figs she and her sister made. (Old people food really isn't alllll bad).

Ada was incredibly generous and gave of all that she had to countless people through charities, monetary gifts, and volunteering in various organizations.

For my grandpa's 90th birthday, Ada flew with us to Des Moines to celebrate--not an easy feat for a 94-year-old lady. But she was so happy to be there and spent the entire visit just reveling in the company of her brother and sister-in-law. As harrowing as the experience was at the time for me (being 4 months pregnant and dealing with Ada's forgetfullness during the trip) seeing her joy made it worth it.

Shortly before I met Greg, Ada started showing signs of dementia at the same time as going blind from severe macular degeneration. She moved to Plymouth Village in 2001--a retirement community/nursing home in Redlands. Greg and I moved out to Yucaipa about 3 years later, and because we were close, we started visiting her more regularly than I ever would have otherwise. I started helping her with her monthly bills because there was no other family around.

I can honestly say I never really *had fun* hanging out at Ada's in the past few years. There were always things I would have rather have been doing. I felt as though visits with her were rather like talking to Dory from Finding Nemo. The same questions with the same answers over and over and over. She often didn't remember who we were. It was hard not to be impatient. I often felt as though I was not making her day any happier.

But she did enjoy our son Sam VERY much. When Sam was born, she said, "I think this might just be the cutest little baby I have ever seen". I treasure that one comment about Sam more than almost any other from his babyhood. She thought he was hilarious when he got a little bigger--even when he was getting into her stuff. She had a colorful camel-hair blanket from somewhere in the Middle East and it had these big tufts of fringe at the ends. Sam was obsessed with those colorful tufts and could *not* stay away from those things. Seeing him destroying her blanket every visit drove me nuts, but Ada was just amused that that was all Sam wanted to play with.

And she positively *LOVED* Greg. I don't really know who couldn't love Greg, but one of his best qualities is that he has a very calming presence and Ada latched onto that. After Grandpa Bodmer died a few years ago, Ada had a drastic drop downhill from independent to assisted living and then from assisted living to the nursing home all within a matter of a couple of years. My dear, sweet, caring husband came with me to see her countless times during that period in her life--even though he wasn't directly related. He prayed for her and with her, and he is taking me to her memorial service this weekend, for which I am forever grateful to him.

I know Ada was ready to die. When my mom and dad went to visit her a while ago, she told my mom she was just tired of this life and was ready to go to Heaven to be with her family.

I believe she is there now--partying it up with her 5 siblings in the presence of God. She can see again, and she can not only remember, but she *knows*.

But I still miss her.

I miss her like I miss Lucille Green, and Lorraine Cantrell, and Robert Bob, and Grandpa and Grandma Bodmer and my Grandpa Campbell and the numerous others who have impacted my life in so many different ways and are now-----gone.

I feel as though we are losing a generation of people that have a legacy that we can so easily ignore. With them go art forms, words, ideas, stories--countless aspects of a whole group of people we will never get back here on this earth. And to me, that's unbearably sad.

Ada, you are loved and will be missed. Tell everyone 'hi' for me and I look forward so very much to seeing you again.

For It is Better To Marry...

2009-12-15T13:59:00.001-08:00

I recently came across a copy of our wedding invite. It was a pleasant surprise because I haven't seen it for a while. I love the pictures we chose and that Greg did the artwork for it. But more than those things, I kind of really love the Bible verse we chose:

1st Corinthians 7:8 (last chunk):
...For it is better to marry than to burn with lust.

It was supposed to be kind of a joke.

Not that we *weren't* burning...we almost eloped. But we controlled ourselves because we simply couldn't do that to our parents.

But we just couldn't bring ourselves to be yet one more couple that did, "I have found the one my soul loves" or the love chapter (1st Corinthians 13) either.

We thought about doing something totally bizarre--something that didn't have anything to do with weddings (such as the bear-mauling-children passage). But we figured that would leave people scratching their heads.

So, true to our nature, we made a joke and nobody laughed.

NOBODY.

No one ever said a thing about our verse--not even our parents. This has left us wondering for the past 6 years if our beloved friends and family actually took us seriously. Or WORSE, thought we were preaching at them.

Honestly, when we inscribed, "It is better to marry than to burn with lust", we were just making a little comment about the lustier side of our relationship. And we thought it was funny.

But apparently, it wasn't.

*sigh*

We just can't win.

Epiphany #120494--School Music Performances (really aren't all that and a bag of chips)

2009-12-10T13:55:00.000-08:00

Seriously--this just dawned on me today. I just NOW realized I'm guilty of not really hugely looking forward to Sam's Christmas program on the 17th. I mean, it's going to be cute and all, but I'm not jumping up and down with excitement.

All through childhood, I thought we elementary and Jr. high school students were WONDERFUL performers--that we had so much talent, my parents just couldn't wait until they could get on down to the Niles Theater to listen to me playing, "The Gremlin Rag" and hear me sing "Voices that Care" along with my other classmates.

I really truly thought my parents *liked* the music we were singing. In my mind, my parents and all the others, were knocking each other down like a mob at Walmart on Black Friday or a U2 concert just to get in. And even if I couldn't find them out there in the audience, I knew they were there-- listening--so very enraptured by the gloriousness of our abilities, wishing we would never stop playing, never stop singing. We were astoundingly gifted.

Now I know better.

There is a definite pride in seeing your child on stage, giving it their all--or, in other cases, seeing your child on stage with his arms crossed and a beligerent look on his face--refusing to do the hand motions.

However, I now understand my parents didn't come to enjoy my music, but they came to enjoy seeing me doing something besides whining at how bored I was or fighting with my sister over toilet paper (it happened more often than I'd like to admit--don't ask).

They came because they love me.

But when there are 7 grades performing and each grade is doing 2 songs, that means you have to sit through 12 other songs you couldn't really care less about. That's a lot of sitting with a bunch of other parents. You're in a hot, cramped, "cozy" box of a room, when where you really want to be is back at home, smooching on the couch during the commercial breaks of the latest episode of Heroes.

School concerts were a sacrifice of love on my parents' part.

I had no idea.

I'm sure there were moments when my parents wanted to flake out on me and say, "Can we just sit this one out, pleeeeeease?" But they never did. They were always faithful to do their very best to be there.

And not only did they come to see me, but I was always dressed to the hilt too! Red dresses, itchy wooly tights, headbands--lots of photos were taken, and I always felt very loved and special and important--even when I tried three different instruents only to drop band all together. Even when I got a detention for not clapping. Even when I forgot to wash black nylons for my choir uniform and you had to go to the Toggery just before closing to get them for me--you always gave so much.

Thanks Mom and Dad for letting me think you were were crazy about "Chim-a-ring-ring-Chong" (yes.. this song really does exist) and for coming to my concerts and for encouraging me so very much. It means even more, now that I have kids of my own.

You guys are pretty fabulous, you know that? I love you.

Disrupting Cultural Mores

2009-12-09T12:32:00.001-08:00

I often wish life were not so boring and normal. I'm wondering if I'm not alone in this.

Sometimes I have the urge to hug random people--like the checkout lady at the grocery store. I mean, really. How fun would that be? Just going around the counter and hugging the checkout person just because you could? Would she hug back? Would she consider it a nice gesture? Or would she press the red button behind the counter and have security take me away? (Gender changes the answers to these questions a lot, I'm sure).

Kind of on the opposite side of the spectrum from hugging-- when I was in 11th grade, Matt Busby donned a Jason mask from the Halloween movies and stood outside staring into the high school social-hall during our Rock-a-thon. He nearly gave my hyped-up, Red Bulled self a heart attack. And Jeran screamed and Josanna threatened to go out and chase him down and beat him up. I don't remember anyone else's reactions, but the moment was pretty priceless.

My friends Becs, Jodee, April and I did the "Do you like beans?" survey from Animaniacs at a high school youth conference in Portland. That was fun.

Sometimes I eat pasta for breakfast. I'm rebellious, I know.

Sometimes I eat breakfast for dinner too. Now that's just CRAZY.

Once my roomate Theresa and I got Krispy Kreme and drove around Biola offering Campus safety police people donuts. That was fun too.

Speaking of police officers, comedian Paula Poundstone asked, "What if when a cop pulled you over and stuck his big face in your window--what if you just touched him on the nose?" I would LOVE to do that!

Most of the time, though, I just blend in and fade into the background. Most of the time, I start and stop when I should, speak at appropriate volumes and make small talk.

I'm wondering if life should be a little less sane and a little more like the movie "Elf". Should there be more harmless, silly fun going on? Because we really do only have one life to live.

But then again, maybe we have these social regulations to keep us aware of when things are not quite right.

Maybe it's about finding the right balance between the two. I don't know. But right now, I'd give anything for a little insanity.

Whatever, Weather People

2009-12-08T14:45:00.001-08:00

People have been talking about how cold it is on facebook today. A lot.

It was supposed to snow last night here in Yucaipa and it didn't. Instead it just froze and killed a bunch of our plants.

I always feel so disappointed in weather people when they are wrong. And notice how they never acknowledge their mistakes? There are never any apologies, no issuing of retractions. For once, I'd like to see, "We would like to say how sorry we are for our recent incorrect prediction of the weather. It will probably happen again, and we are SO sorry for that too." Yes. That would make me feel much better.

Instead, they just go along their merry little way, pretending like they never said anything at all. You can almost hear the innocent whistling and see the eye avoidance.

I bet there really are no "real" weather people at all. It's probably some 3rd grade class in Kentucky taught by a really sweet old lady named Mrs. Johnson.

Mrs. Johnson: "What do you think the weather in Yucaipa California will be like tomorrow, Sally?"

Sally: It's gonna snow!

Mrs. Johnson: Alright--I'll email that to Google.

I'd bet ABC's "Doppler 7000" is the 6-year-old son of the weather man. And THAT KID is the one who is really talking into the weather man's earpiece.

I'll admit--I like to pretend I know what it's going to do weather-wise, though. Last night, I said it felt like it was going to snow. And Greg believed me because I grew up where it snows. Don't tell him, but I really had no idea what I was talking about. I mean.. it was cold and cloudy and raining off and on. But that was about all I knew.

Maybe I should be a weather woman.

Overprepared

2009-12-07T08:37:00.001-08:00

I'm pretty agoraphobic. I don't know if this is an actual "clinical" problem, or if it has more to do with having to drag my children through pushy, loud, smelly, crazy crowds. I'm thinking it's more of the latter (though I do have some pretty neurotic issues with people "breathing my air"). And as much as I love store windows at Christmas, and Christmas lights and music, I hate the marked-up prices and insanity of the rest of it.

So, this year I decided in order to keep Christmas a little more sane, I'll I'd have to do was do all of my Christmas shopping online. I ordered mostly from Amazon because they have superdeals once in a while and free shipping. And it worked out marvelously, I might add.

But then, I started getting the stuff--GINORMOUS boxes with one small item in them (we'll be saving some of the boxes to send stuff to Alturas in). At least there have been no styrofoam peanuts.

And then there was the scary-dark-wrapping-cloud hanging out over my head that wouldn't go away. So yesterday I wrapped like a woman possessed and now I am mostly done with it.

But then I realized... I have two weeks! Two weeks to keep the kids from UN-wrapping the presents and the cat from destroying the tree and to keep Greg from accidentally finding out what he's getting via email.

I'm realizing that I kind of probably had it a bit backwards... that instead of rushing to get the shopping done, I should have been rushing to celebrate Jesus's birth. We haven't really talked about Him being the reason why we do Christmas at all with our kiddos and we really should be doing more of that.

So tonight, I resolve to sit down with the kids and read the Christmas story--to open the advent calendar doors we've missed (all of them) and to try to have a better attitude about it all.

When I was a child, I had the faith of a child. But now I guess I have to be a little more intentional about it. And it's not just for my own spirit's sake, but for my Childrens' too.

Only Blogging From Here On Out

2009-12-04T12:45:00.000-08:00

I am leaving facebook on Tuesday, December 8. I am hoping to be blogging more in its place.

Just FYI

The Sycamore

2009-10-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

In the place that is my own place, whose earth
I am shaped in and must bear, there is an old tree growing,
a great sycamore that is a wondrous healer of itself.
Fences have been tied to it, nails driven into it,
hacks and whittles cut in it, the lightning has burned it.
There is no year it has flourished in
that has not harmed it. There is a hollow in it
that is its death, though its living brims whitely
at the lip of the darkness and flows outward.
Over all its scars has come the seamless white
of the bark. It bears the gnarls of its history
healed over. It has risen to a strange perfection
in the warp and bending of its long growth.
It has gathered all accidents into its purpose.
It has become the intention and radiance of its dark fate.
It is a fact, sublime, mystical and unassailable.
In all the country there is no other like it.
I recognize in it a principle, an indwelling
the same as itself, and greater, that I would be ruled by.
I see that it stands in its place and feeds upon it,
and is fed upon, and is native, and maker.

-Wendell Berry

Second Adolescence/Thoughts On My Ten-Year-Reunion

2009-06-16T11:19:00.000-07:00

When I started middle school, I was in Mrs. Clark's 6th grade class. I remember sitting there at my desk on the first day, and Mrs. Clark (one of the best teachers EVER, by the way) cracked some joke that made us all "LOL". I was shocked because we all sounded so very OLD. There was a deepness to our laugh that hadn't been there in Mrs. Franklin's class the previous year. I can only assume it must have been due to some of the boy's voices going from falsetto to tenor or something, but I definitely felt like we were growing up.

And here I am, 15-or-so years later wondering what our laughs will sound like at the ten-year reunion. And then I realize, will this ten-year-reunion thing finally make me feel like an adult? Seeing all of the people I grew up with--grown up?

Some people told me marriage would make me feel like a grown-up. Others told me it would be having children. Still others told me it would be some life change or disaster.

I'm not feeling like an adult yet. And I am wondering if it is because I am no longer around the people I was around when I was growing up. I have nothing to gauge my development against anymore. Maybe?

I don't really view myself as an adult at all. I feel as though I'm constantly hitting walls when it comes to the whole mentally aging aspect of life. Maybe it's the fact that in spite of everything we *have* been through (cancer, joblessness, homelessness, other illness, etc), I am stil mostly enjoying life. I love being married to my husband and having kids and having our own house. I have definitely done my share of hand-wringing and am definitely noticing signs of worry wrinkles appearing on my forehead. But I still feel often more giddy than dour. And I thought adulthood would be all about feeling constantly frustrated with life.

I am not trying to say I live in constant cloud-9. I am far from it, in fact. It's just that life is so full of moments of, well, playful, silly immaturity. Water fights with the kids in the back yard. Tickle fights with Greg. Playing on facebook. Staying up late and still feeling sort of like I've gotten away with something forbidden.

But then again, the last three times I've bought alcohol, I haven't gotten carded. And other people's kids actually listen to me when I tell them what to do (my own don't, but that's to be expected). And I do the dishes without people asking me to. What the heck?

About a year ago, I signed up for a subscription to Nylon magazine because I thought it would have good recommendations for new musicians I'd never heard of, and I liked the fasion a lot. After a few issues, I asked Greg what he thought of the magazine, and he said, "it seems pretty high school". And then I realized.. yeah, it does. So I cancelled the subscription. I was embarrassed because, sheesh, I am TWENTY-SEVEN after all.

And I keep finding myself shopping in the juniors section and being surprised when, oh-my-gosh, the clothes like, totally don't fit me like they used to.

I almost bought myself a Smurfette t-shirt the other day and thought, "Wait. Is this *appropriate*?"

I feel like I am going through a second adolescence--an awkward age where things aren't ever quite ever what they should be. It's all very Alice in Wonderland-ish, and disconcerting.

Maybe I'm overthinking this. Maybe I should just do whatever comes/feels natural. It's just that I'm somewhere in between two worlds. I know I'm not young anymore, but I know I'm not all that old, either. Does anyone else feel this way? Or am I just some sort of developmentally challenged permanent teenager? I want to act my age, but I am not sure what that age is.

Monica

2009-05-12T12:31:00.001-07:00

Some of you already may know (or know of) this family. If not, please keep them in your thoughts and prayers. I didn't know Monica, but it sounds like she was an extraordinary person. I wish I had known about her sooner, so I could have thanked her for being such an inspiration to so many--myself included. Pray for her little boy and husband as they are going through a devastatingly difficult time right now.
http://www.solandmonica.com

New Pics March/April '09

2009-04-11T12:32:00.000-07:00

Not an April Fool's Joke, But Still...

2009-04-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

So, as some of you already know, Greg and I took a tour of Europe in 2004. If you are actually considering going to Europe, I highly recommend *not* using a bus tour, unless it's through a private family-owned compay. What we wanted was to spend some time in a few select cities. The most practical way to do this (according to our Travel Agent) was to use a bus tour. So, we took the Globus "Grand European Tour".

We were packed on a bus of 30+ people, didn't like too many of them, and were rushed around in "get to the end as quickly as possible" fasion. I feel we could have spent *much* more time in some of the places we visited, but most of them were briefly introduced over the course of one day. It was exhausting.

There were, however, some highlights to the trip. One of my favorite memories is of a man who was part of our group. He insisted on sitting in the back of the bus the whole trip, watching episodes of Futurama on his mini-dvd player. He went by the name, "Prince Joseph of Australia".

Seriously. This guy spent the duration of the tour trying to convince everyone on our bus that he was of "Australian royal descent", but was living in the city of La Jolla, running an (extremely successful--according to him) antiques business.

According to his story, he had been exiled from the country by his older brother (who's name we never could get from him). He was forced to live by himself in the US (horror) and was never to go back to Australia unless his brother died.

To be really honest, I was a little afraid of Prince Joseph at first. I really couldn't figure out his motive. Why on earth would this guy be doing this? I knew Australia had no royalty outside of the queen of England. Elizabeth I, and then parliment, right? There are no princes of Australia. Was he some sort of wacked-out terrorist or something?

But then I saw how some of the ladies on the bus tour actually FELL for his story. I mean, he actually had BUSINESS CARDS that read, "His Royal Highness, Prince Joseph of Australia." We nick-named his group of women "Prince Joseph's Harem" because they were so very enamored. The ladies followed him around like he was the cool kid on the playground. And he ate it up big time. The more questions that were asked of him, the more elaborate his story grew. I loved watching the husbands of the ladies rolling their eyes and shaking their heads as their wives squealed in delight over Prince Joseph's wonderful tales of Australian high life. I don't know if they really did believe him, or just wanted to.Funny thing was, he had zero Australian accent. We asked him about that once, and he told us he had to use an American accent to protect his identity.

At one point during the trip, Greg and I found a big, gaudy, fake-gold necklace just outside of the bus. I immediately recognized it to be "Joey's" (what we were supposed to call him when we were off the bus--for the sake of secrecy). But since we were in one of our "on our own" moments, we weren't able to return it to him. Later that day, when we got back on the bus, we gave it to our tour guide Doris. Doris asked if anyone was missing it. His royal highness got all excited and said, "Oh, Yay! Now I can call Paris Hilton back and tell her it's been found!" Even if Paris Hilton had known "Joseph of Australia", I don't really know what she would have been able to do about his missing necklace in Europe.

The trip passed relatively uneventfully and Joseph never did kill any of us. It is funny how much of an impression he left, though--the annoyance combined with amusement. Greg and I speak of him often. I wonder if he reserved his act for European tours, if he actually does run an antiques business, if he really even does live in La Jolla. Who the guy really is, we'll probably never know.

Creepy Facial Hair and Where Does the Diet Begin

2009-03-27T11:15:00.000-07:00

-- As most of you already know, Greg sports a nearly-constant goatee. I occassionally will make him shave it off for the sake of kissability. When it gets to a certain length, it's kind of like making out with a hairbrush with lips. I have difficulty in enjoying our, er, "us time" when it gets to this point. So I will beg and plead that he trim the cactus living on his face, and he is usually pretty sweet and compliant about it all. HOWEVER--Greg takes great joy in getting my goat (no pun intended) by shaving with *creativity*. Oh, I wish I had a picture. Greg will shave. But due to his love of performing, he will shave in STAGES. Each stage leads to less goatee and more creepiness. He loves to take on various personas depending on what his goatee looks like (farmer, horny pepe le pew-like man-person, Boris from Rocky and Bullwinkle, etc). It usually takes him about 45 minutes to get the job done because of this. And with every "stage" of shavedness, he will come out of the bathroom to show me the latest shape/accent combo. For some reason, I find his creepy facial hair super-disturbing and usually run away in terror. Of course, this leads to him chasing me around the house, using his accent, and it's all very married and wonderful and I love it even though I'm annoyed. Eventually he does shave it all, but not without some major nagging on my part. Do all men do this? Or is it just a Greg thing? Ren Faire is next week. We are taking my sister's family for the first time. I am very excited, but I have a feeling the latest goatee will be coming along with us, whether I like it or not.

--10-year-reunion is less than 5 months away and I have got to lose some of this baby weight, or I'm just going to feel self-conscious the whole time I'm there. One of my favorite movies ever is "Grosse Point Blank". In it, Joan Cusack's character talks about her 10-year reunion. She says, "Yes I did [go to my 10-year-reunion]. It was just as if everyone had swelled."

I DON'T WANT TO BE SWOLLEN!

Funny thing is, I never gave weight a thought then. I ate pretty much whatever I wanted and stayed as skinny as I wanted to be. This lasted through college. Darned metabolism. Seriously. It's like once you get married and have babies, your body says, "Okay, you've procreated. You can be fat now." The kiddos are worth it, but man! It is a lot of work getting rid of all this extra poundage. I am having serious issues getting started.

Anybody up for being a diet-fitness partner with me?

Hope

2009-03-26T09:07:00.001-07:00

One of Emily Dickinson's best loved poems is called, "Hope"

The first couple of lines say, "Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches on the soul..."

When I envision that feathered thing, I have recently been picturing Big Bird. I used to picture a nightingale.

Greg and I have talked about this. We have decided there are two kinds of hope... there is a worldly hope, and then there is Eternal hope. Eternal hope is the only kind that ever feels real to me. My hope for eternity is full of joy and contentment and it feels *light* and good because I know my eternity is taken care of. Jesus is my hope for Eternity, and I know I get to be in Heaven with Him someday. This is good!

But worldly hope depends on circumstances, and whether God decides to give us a 'yes' or a 'no'. Unfortunately, I cannot say for sure where that will lead. So, we cannot really know what will happen. My hope in this life feels shakey and unstable.

"My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness
All other ground is sinking sand"

Since Greg got his layoff, I've been battling with worldly hope--the sinking sand kind. Hope feels heavy these days. I don't want to rely on hope alone because hope has nothing to do with outcome any more than worry or anger. I can feel hopeful, but that is not going to mean that the hope will lead to anything. Hope is a feeling--an emotion. You can want something to death and never actually get it.

But for some reason, I keep on hoping! Why do I need to hope? Why is there this intrinsic part of me that hopes beyond all hope that Greg will have his job next year and we will not be stuck moving back in with one of our parents' homes? Why do I hope that we will be able to stay in this house without having to take on menial jobs, go on welfare, and put our children in daycare?

And then that worldy hope is actually almost synonymous with worry. And we are outright commanded not to worry.

Maybe I'll call it hopry.

One of the hardest parts of being a Christian has been coming to the point in my life where you realize your life is not about you, but it's about God doing stuff through you. How I RESPOND when God dishes out Job- (the person Job in the Bible... not talking about occupation/careers, here) -like moments is the true mark of my character. And to me, it's just plain HARD to keep on trucking--to keep the faith--to continue living like a believer when the world feels so weighty. I need to be okay with whatever might come my way, because it's the only way I'll make it through, faith-in-tact. I'm trying, and I believe that God is working even when I can't feel it.

But even if Greg gets his job back, I'm sure I'll still find things to hopry about.

Favorites...

2009-02-27T12:39:00.000-08:00

I don't have a favorite color. I don't have a favorite movie. I don't have a favorite song or play or brand of mayonnaise. Oh, well, maybe I do have a favorite brand of mayonnaise (Best Foods-- Nobody DOESN'T like Best Foods).

I hate being asked "What's your favorite..." because I usually like lots of things all at once. Does this make me indecisive?

I only have one favorite person; Gregory. But that's about as far as my favorites go, where people are concerned.

So here I am, thinking of writing about current likes and/or dislikes. I'm thinking I might update you on them every once-in-a-while.

For example, I currently am enjoying the music of Ingrid Michaelson. I discovered her on Grey's Anatomy. My husband hates her. But this makes me glad because he has introduced me to so many musicians and bands, it's kind of refreshing to like somebody all by myself.

I am also enjoying discovering blogs of people I don't know.

I am really figuring out that I have a distaste for online abbrevations. Well, wait. I can handle "btw" for some reason. But LOL makes me furious like Mr. Furious in Mystery Men. And don't even get me started on OMG or WTF.

I have a girl crush on the character of Liz Lemon on 30 Rock. We have 210 satellite channels, but I never watch tv. We just watch shows on instant viewing in netflix. LOVE the Instaview. But back to Liz. She's a dork and messy and real and weird and wonderful and I love her. I've never seen an SNL episode with Tina Fey in it, but I like 30 Rock. A lot.

I don't like any of the characters in Heroes. They are all just too pigeon-holed into these very specific roles, and the actors can't flex within those roles very well. I used to like Hiro, but he gets on my nerves now. But I still can't stop watching it, and get all joyful and call Greg whenever Netflix adds another episode to their instant viewing list.

I don't like the fact that I'm in the last part of my 20s. As I move along this little time-line of mine, things seem to be picking up momentum. I just can't believe Sam is already almost 4 and Aunica is turning one next weekend. Ay yi yi. (Is that how you spell Ay yi yi?)

Beautiful, Brave Little Man

2009-02-24T17:58:00.000-08:00

This morning, Sam proved himself to be quite the awesome little helper.

In a previous note, I have mentioned what an ordeal it is for me to get the boy to school on time. This morning was no different. I got the kids dressed and ready to go. Sam ate his breakfast, we put on his shoes and went out to the car. I buckled Aunica in first.

IMPORTANT: I lifted Sam to get into his carseat while holding my keys. Unknowingly, I must have pressed the auto-lock button on my keychain.

As usual, I threw my keys into the driver's seat, then buckled Sam in, closed his door, and went to open mine. It was locked.

"That's odd," I thought, and so I tried again. Nope.

"Okay, that's weird," So I tried the other doors. Nope.

What I had done started to come into focus.

"Oh, CRAPPITY".

So, the dense person living in my head told me to try *all* the doors, just in case the ever-faithful auto-lock decided to be unfaithful today. None of them opened. Not even the trunk. Then the dense person told me to try them again. Nope. On the second time around, Sam grinned out his tinted back-seat window and yelled, "Hi, Mommy!"

I tried to not panic. "Think Crystal. THINK"Spare key! I ran into the house, hoping to find the single spare Ford key laying around somewhere. Yeah right. Even if the key were attached to something ginormous (snow globe, ruler, toilet seat, shrunken head) gas-station-bathroom-style, I still wouldn't have found it in this mess.

Two empty junk drawers later, I ran back out to the kids in the car. Who should I call? 911? AAA? The general police number in the front of the phone book? How long would they take?

Sam and Aunica sat there, snug in their seat-belts, patiently waiting for me to drive them off to preschoolville. Aunica's cold was causing snot to run down her face, but I could handle that.

What I couldn't handle was the thought of watching both of my children fry to death in our oven of an SUV on the first sunny day in two weeks.

"Help?"

Then it dawned on me. Sam! Sam is smart! Sam is capable! He's a BIG BOY now!

"Sam, sweetie?" I said lovingly through the window. "I have a big job for you to do. Can you help me?"

I don't know if it was the maniacal, crazed, desperate look I probably was exhibiting, or just the fact that Sam is such a great and helpful kid (probably both), but he smiled and nodded yes.

"Sam, mommy left her keys on the front seat, and locked the door, so I need you to get them for me, okay?" Another nod."Can you unbuckle your seatbelt?" He tried the orange button first.

Let me tell you about the orange button. The orange button is so stinkin' hard to push, I've broken nails trying to get my kid out (not that my nails don't usually break easily). It was made for kids to *not* be able to get out of, so obviously this was not going to be easy for my three-year-old son.

Sam tried his very best, though. He did a great job, used both hands and pressed so hard he was getting that whole tremble-with-exertion thing going. I told him to try the top button instead. The top button is a little easier. It's more like a plastic back-pack buckle and he's gotten that un-done before. He couldn't do it, though. So, finally, exasperated, I said, "Can you wiggle out of your seat, then?"

He tried, and it was starting to work. He got his shoulders out.

But then a woman strolled by on her morning walk. She looked concerned. "Hello!" I said cheerily, hoping she wasn't going to offer help or call CPS. What I really wanted to say was, "No, really. I *always* talk to my children through the car window in the morning. It's just one of those things we do." Thankfully she moved on.

Sam was doing great. He'd gotten both arms out and was halfway out of his seat. But he was stuck there. I was getting ready to go call the police when Sam had the brilliant idea of taking off his shoes. As soon as he did that, he was able to wiggle a little bit more. And then, he tried his top buckle again and it worked!

Huzzah! A few grunts later, he was free!

"Okay, Sam, I need you to get my keys. They're on the seat".

I was prepared to instruct Sam on not pressing the panic button on my keychain, and to press the button that had the unlocked lock picture instead of the locked lock picture.

Instead, Sam reached over and pressed the unlock button on the door of the car. Smart little cookie!

And I opened the door and HUGGED that boy like there was no tomorrow. Because, for a while there, it felt like there wouldn't be.

Oh, I love Sam so.

(PS. Aunica was fascinated by this whole experience, and never cried. I'm very thankful because that just might have sent me over the edge)

Okay.. it's been a while, I know

2009-01-24T14:09:00.000-08:00

Mmmmm.. dinosaur! Tasty!

SOMEONE, QUICK! GIVE THIS BOY SOME MORE SUGAR!

Digging for gold

Practicing for Sillouette shots

Aunica's first swing experience

The next page

2008-10-24T12:37:00.001-07:00

New Page

2008-10-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I got any new pages done with scrapbooking. Finally, I'm feeling a little more inspired. Here's the latest. It is of Aunica and her cousin Natalie.

Recent Photos

2008-09-30T09:36:00.001-07:00

I have started a diet again. The exercise thing just isn't happening with the kiddos, so I am trying to stay as active as possible--WITH them. (It doesn't happen very much). But so far, I have lost 8 lbs in 1 1/2 weeks. Not too shabby, eh? Sticking to the lo-cal stuff, as I find it's easiest to keep track of what I am eating. Hope it works this time.
Will try to get some more recent pics up soon.

Recent Pics

2008-09-04T08:47:00.000-07:00

Aunica crawling over her brother

Aunica's first ponytail

My two grubby, hard-working men

Addendum to the "Dyson Blog"

2008-09-03T07:48:00.000-07:00

Oops.. just found out from my mom that Dad didn't actually plug the dyson into a 220 volt outlett. The vacuum did die, but it was something wrong with the electricity in the actual house--not my dad's mistake. Soooo, sorry Pops.

Will post some more recent pictures today! Honest!

The People's Court And Me

2008-08-19T22:04:00.001-07:00

So, I have a confession to make:

I enjoy watching "The People's Court". It comes on at 1:00 p.m. every weekday. I don't watch it every day, but sometimes I'll be out and about, will realize it is 1:15, and be a little bit sad I missed it that day. Here's why I like it:

-Judge Marilyn Millian (Did I spell that right?). She is an amazing woman: confident, funny, not swayed by manipulation, inconsistent but doesn't give a darn, says what she means... I love her. I wish I were more like her.

-I love to hate Curt Chaplin. He's a jerk. He's one of those always-has-to-have-the-last-word kind of guys who you know is just as arrogant at home as he is in the hallway. I want to smack him every time he gives that smug little shrug.

-I feel like I'm learning about New York State law every time I watch the show. I wish it were based in California, though.

But today--oh today I saw the funniest thing EVER. Well, maybe not the funniest thing ever, but it was pretty darned tootin' funny. Here's the link. Go check it out and let me know your reaction:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-eF7APJlgo

First Reaction

2008-08-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

Beer- Looks/Tastes like pee
McDonald's- Fries
Relationships- Fickle
Purple- Telletubbies
Power Ranger- Those actors must have been desperate
Cartoons- Wish they were like they were when I was little
Florida- Never been there
Reading- A most worthy use of time
Halloween- The smell of leaves and frost and feeling weird in a costume
Alice - 'In Wonderland'--a most fantastical story
Myspace- Kind of getting old--or is that me?
Feet- stinky and odd looking
Marriage- Comforting and uncomfortable at the same time
Paris- A beautiful but corrupt city full of pretention and snobbery.
Redheads- Are kind of unpredictable
Brunettes- Are wonderful
One night stands- Not worth the trouble
Donald Trump- hair--'nough said
Neverland- I didn't want to grow up, but am kind of enjoying being an adult.
Pixie- I wish I had wings
Vanilla ice cream- Bland
Hooters- Orange and Owls and supposedly really good hotwings
High school musical- I don't know much about it.
Pajamas- Snuggles!
Wet Socks- Dry eventually.

Today's Earthquake

2008-07-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

Today there was an earthquake here in So-Cal. 5.4 magnitude (on a scale from 1-10, this one was about halfway to the worst you can get.. so it really wasn't that horrible).

Last time there was an earthquake, my mom was visiting for Sam's birth. I was 9 1/2 months pregnant and was due (overdue) at any moment. We were laying on the couch watching, "Prince of Egypt". It was at the part where Moses was telling Pharoh to "let his people go". Pharoh was laughing at Moses when the earthquake hit. Mom and I were frozen.. picture us with the deer in the headlights look. I wasn't sure where to go, or what to do. Finally, Greg, who had already gotten up and gone and stood under the doorway, yelled, "Are you coming???" Mom and I finally reacted and were able to unglue ourselves from the couch, and move to the doorway with Greg. The movie was still going in the background, and JUST as the earthquake subsided, this is no joke, Moses said to Pharoh, "Behold, the Power of God."

Today's earthquake was different from that one... I was absolutely frozen like last time--I couldn't figure out what to do. But this time there was guilt involved. I knew I should be doing SOMETHING, but what I should have been doing was beyond me. I got that frozen feeling and then I remembered Aunica in the living room. I ran and picked her up, but by the time I got there, the quake was practically over. Kristin was outside with Sam, so I figured he was okay. The first thing he said when I ran out to see how they were doing was "oh! Scary!" I felt like kind of a bad mom for not being able to act as much as react. But I suppose 10 seconds isn't a very long time to get to think... especially when the ground underneath your feet is shaking.

The morning had not been the greatest. We had had some more setbacks with our move out to Yucaipa and I was feeling frustrated. Sometimes I guess it takes an earthquake to make you realize what really matters in life. Because as I got Sam ready to go to Disneyland with Papa and as I held Aunica in my arms, the possibility of us not being in Yucaipa quite as soon as expected didn't seem so dreadful.

Greg's Blog About Sam and 'Dyson'

2008-07-26T21:36:00.000-07:00

Sam is a wonder. Yes. My son. There is so much to him. He’s so much more than the baby I thought I was going to have. He’s … how can you think about what a blank slate will become?

So, today, he amazes me. We are planning to move into our old house (where he was brought “home” to from the hospital, all those three years ago), and he starts asking today, when I say “Let’s get your shoes on, okay?” he says (not asks), “We go to new house now, Daddy!” I explain that it was put off until next week, but we will be going there soon. Several times throughout the day, he asks or assumes we are going to our new house. It’s interesting, he must be very excited or nervous about it.

Well, after bleaching jeans together, (his first time, my first in ten years!), he wants to watch Iron Giant again (his favorite movie at the moment… I was bummed that he thought the “bad guy” was Hogarth’s dad, grrrr...) and I say, “Let’s wake up mommy and go to get our new vacuum.” He looks at me with this look like, “Uhhhhhhhhhh.” But gives no response.

Anyhow, at the store, he finds spare parts from the various vacuums on display at Best Buy, and wheels them around, calling them “Sweeper” (you know, from the movie Robots, and from the real life video tapes of street sweepers and other city heavy machinery). We finally get sent to a whole “Dyson” section, and find our old vacuum… beefed up since three years ago when we bought it. It’s still the purple one, called “The Animal” (since it specializes in getting animal hair out of carpet—our dog sheds all year—thus our previous purchase when we were rich). It’s spendy, but Dyson’s rock, and I LOVED our last one. (PS – We need a new one because my father in law discovered that Dyson didn’t expect someone to plug them into 220 electrical circuits—I can’t believe that Dyson didn’t think of that! They’re/He’s mostly so “outside the box” thinking.)

Well, Sam found the attachment that is smaller, and he swept/rolled/sweepered the entire area around the Dyson section with it… ten or twenty times, while Crystal and I were contemplating getting a replacement of exactly what we had before. We decided, “yes.”

When I got a cart and placed the new Dyson on it (big, black box, about six feet long) he got on top of it and laid down. At least he wasn’t running around the store.

Okay, okay, I have to say, the cart was because I slipped a disk last year, and I thought better of hefting it to the cashier.

Anyhow, Sam hugged the Dyson box to the car, then when we got home, he wanted nothing more than to open the box to play with his vacuum. “Mine” he said. Conversations about it being his persisted, even through opening and assembling, and when we tried it out, he still believed it was his. It was adopted by him as his new sibling (like Aunica, except more purple and robotic). Well, when we turned it off and decided not to vacuum the entire house, he got very sad. He was just sure we were taking Dyson from him. We tried to assure him that this was not the case, but eventually, the only thing that satisfied him was my suggestion of letting “Dyson” sleep in his room (since it was soon to be his bed-time). This made him happy.

He cleared out Dyson’s box (bed), and then we moved Dyson into his room. He chose a story to read to “him,” and we could hear him reading to him while we finishied fixing dinner.

After dinner, Sam got ready for bed. He explained the routine for bed to Dyson, and turned on the nightlight for “him” to not be scared. We discussed “stars” and “praying,” and Dyson participated in these bedtime rituals… including a kiss from Sam, Daddy, and Mommy, and Sam even told Dyson, “I love you,” to help “him” sleep, and finish the routine. It was sooooo amazingly cute and bizarre.

My son is amazing. And so …. I don’t even know what else he fits with, but something neat and weird. I love him sooo.

Thank you Crystal, for helping me make such an amazingly unique little boy! He’s awesome.

Finding Gladness

2008-07-17T19:43:00.000-07:00

We are visiting my parents in Alturas, enjoying the beautiful summer weather, all the elm trees dipping, bowing, and making lovely wind-music, the smell of non-smogged-up air, hearing the laughter of our son and his cousin Hayden.

And then Sam gets sick, and we find out we have to leave two days early, and Aunica is particularly crabby, and I feel like I'm catching the cold too, and Greg is going to be starting work earlier than expected (this coming Monday) and I say to myself, "what a crazyfull world".

Isn't it weird how life is such a mix of emotions--moments all wrapped up in joyfullness and frustration?

I don't want to be a complete Pollyanna, because I think I find her a little obnoxious. But I don't want to be an Eeyore either. So, I find myself jumping schizophrenically back and forth between joy and discontent. I want to concentrate on the good things in life, but darn it... the good moments seem to always be tainted by tiny little disappointments. Some people might call me moody. I think I just feel things more than most.

Here is a picture of one of the best moments of the trip thus far. It was Sam's first fish ever. He was so proud of himself, and I'm pretty darned proud of him too.

Updates!

2008-07-12T13:32:00.000-07:00

Finally, everyone, we are able to say what is going on!

Greg signed a contract to be employed with San Bernardino City Unified School District as a 5th grade teacher at Wilson Elementary School! Yay! We gave our renters notice, and they are supposed to be out by September 8th. Things are definitely looking up! Greg's first day of work is th 29th of July (teacher work days) and first day with students is August 4th. I am anticipating greater things for this year in that Greg will be starting with these kids right from the beginning--no coming in a month late. We are excited to have our house back and are looking forward to being 'on our own' again. It has been TWO YEARS! I can hardly believe it! Sam was still 1 when we movedi n with my parents, and he just celebrated his third birthday! It looks as though Aunica will have a little more stability in her life.

I got a new camera! I have been begging for one for a while now, and finally we decided it was time to invest in a spiffy Canon Rebel XSi! It's fantastic. Here's a couple of pictures from it!

hives

2008-07-04T21:54:00.001-07:00

so, I contracted hives the other day from some medication I've been taking. Ugh! It has been a couple of the worst days since Greg had cancer. I've been walking around, stopping, and scratching like a dog with flees for over 48 hours now. Fortunately, sleep hasn't been that hard to accomplish. I am thankful that I have medicine that should be taking care of them in the next couple of days, and that I am not contagious (my kids/husband won't get them too). Please pray that they go away, and FAST!

2008-07-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

2008-07-01T21:18:00.000-07:00

Couple more pages...

2008-07-01T13:34:00.001-07:00

Here are the newest additions to my scrapbooking:

Yay Boo

2008-06-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

Yay Boo
Welp, we're pretty sure we have the job in San Bernardino. This is good news and bad news. Good, because we will be back in our own house, Greg will have a job (possibly probationary instead of temporary!), and we will have benefits! Yay! Sam and Aunica will have their own rooms, and we will have our own room (FINALLY) and we will be living on our OWN!
However,
The school is on a track system, which means that they are year-round. This means that Greg's school year would start smack in the middle of summer-July 28th. Our 5-year anniversary was all planned and ready to go for the 2nd and 3rd of August. We were SO excited, and now we may not get to do it. We were also going to be going up to Montana, and that isnt' going to happen anymore either. Soo, I'm excited and bummed at the same time.
Also, we have renters in our house in Yucaipa, so we'll have to get them out. We have to give them sixty days notice, so we'll be almost into september before we can get back into our house. So, Greg will be living out with his Grandma, and I will be living here with Greg's parents for a couple of months. Alone. *sigh*
So anyway.. that's the news for the day. Thanks for your continued prayers.

Random

2008-06-19T08:32:00.001-07:00

Greg got a call and has a job interview in redondo beach of all places. The school looks fantastic and I would be absolutely jazzed if he were able to work there. Housing, however....

It's Greg's last day of work today. We are excited to have summer be here, but it's going to be quite busy. I am sad it's only 2 months long.

I am going to be taking online classes through LaSalle again this fall. I'm excited! Phonetics and Intro to Comm. Disorders! Yay!

Your mom goes to college.

Amusing

2008-06-17T09:34:00.001-07:00

This site made me giggle:

http://photoshopdisasters.blogspot.com

Enjoy!

Another one

2008-06-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

First Attempts At Digital Scrapbooking

2008-06-15T01:07:00.001-07:00

Here are my first attempts at digital scrapbooking. Comments are appreciated! Enjoy!

I'm Back

2008-06-06T08:37:00.001-07:00

So, I've been using myspace to do my blogging, but since some of my friends who were regular readers have quit using myspace, I'm going to start posting whatever I post there, here as well. So, here's an update on my life.

The last post was from 2006. We were just about to move back in with my parents at that point. Sam was not even 2 yet, and Aunica was just a glimmer in our eye. Since then, Greg worked in Alturas for a year, then we moved back to Southern California (yay!), found out we were pregnant with a girl, had the girl, Greg got a job in Santa Ana, we are living with Greg's parents, and Sam is turning 3 in less than a month! Crazy! Golly.. I'd better get started on those invitations! We dont' even know what we're doing for his birthday! We don't know where we're going to be next year. We are pretty open at this point, as long as where we end up is warm and doesn't get too much snow. Greg's job in Santa Ana has been a temporary teaching position. It has paid wonderfully, and we've been so relieved to have AWESOME medical benefits. We are praying that he will have a job in San Bernardino next year (there are openings as far as we know) and that we will be able to have benefits again.

Here's today's myspace post: I have been a zombie for weeks now. But last night Aunica woke up ONCE to feed and slept the rest of the time. Yay! If you have a child who is being a stubborn sleeper, I'd highly recommend The Sleepeasy Solution: The Exhausted Parent's Guide to Getting Your Child to Sleep from Birth to Age 5. It's a good'n!

Bathtime!

2006-03-30T23:07:00.000-08:00

Bathtime for Sam and Cam!

Sorry everybody.. I know it's been a while. You can email me if you miss me. I'd love to hear from you!

MySpace

2006-02-25T15:22:00.000-08:00

So, I've started a MySpace thingy. If you want to see it, go to www.myspace.com/ilikecows13

I'm really liking it and would like to get in touch with any biola/alturas people that might be out there! I think you all are swell!

Changes

2006-02-19T19:04:00.000-08:00

This picture is of Sam staring at a light at Downtown Disney. We finally got our passes again, so now we can go whenever we want for the next year! (We're going this next wednesday!)

Well, after all this hullaballoo, Greg's probably going to go back to teaching. No, it's not our favorite plan of the ones we've had so far, but it's teach again, or move to the other side of the continent where houses don' t cost near as much and you can still find a job that pays enough for life. He's putting in his application this next week.

Greg's cancer is also looking very positive. No tumors anywhere in his body that we know of. He gets his CT scan done on the first of march.

Other than that, things are kind of boring 'round here. We're just hoping to find something to do with ourselves until whenever Greg works again. Sam keeps us pretty busy, though. :)

Silly Lil' Guy!

2006-02-07T20:31:00.000-08:00

Cameron is my nephew. He's a chunk! We think he's a lot of fun.

We went and saw my sister's new baby this last week. Wow. What a teeny tiny lil' guy! He was 5lbs. 13oz when we got there. He's so amazing, though. He's really a miracle. I had no idea how close he actually was to not making it. We thank God so much that he did. His umbilicle cord was wrapped around his neck three times and they had to recessitate (sp?) him. He must have been super active in there. Poor Karlie. A C-section is no fun. I wish I could put movies on here because we got a really funny one of Karlie "making him talk".

I Love My Family

2006-01-28T11:57:00.000-08:00

I love my little family. Don't you like this pic? I sure do!

YTMNDs Are Our Friends

2006-01-27T22:13:00.000-08:00

I recently discovered this internet phenomena "You're The Man Now, Dawg" or "YTMNDs". I cannot take credit for any of these, but here are some of my favorites. (All from YTMND.com)
(Instructions: Some of them take a while to load, so have patience. Also, some of them require a refresh because of picture-sound syncronization)

Attack on Mordor (Use Refresh)
Pi
Manatee (Use Refresh)
"Noooooo"ler Coaster (Use Refresh)
Tom Hanks Finds New Harry Potter Book (Use Refresh)
Vader on Wheel of Fortune
I Love Bell Peppers
"Dad" "What?" "Dad" "What"
The Evolution of Super Mario
Spy On Your Friends
It's a Trap!
Waldo Found Me
Duel Of Squirrels
Mr. T Lectures You
Vader Sings the Hits
America Had One Weakness
Picard Song
Picard Gets Down

There are also a whole bunch of ones dedicated to the movie "Night at the Roxbury" and the head-banging car scene. Those are pretty funny too. Anyway.. just thought i'd take a break from life and introduce those of you who haven't yet been enlightened. I'd love to find out your favs.

2006-01-20T14:24:00.000-08:00

My sister had her baby today! Crazy huh?

His name is Hayden Asher. I don't know much about him yet (weight, hair color, etc.) because she had to go in for an emergency c-section because his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. Thank you God that he's safe! Sounds like he and Karlie are fine, but I'll know more tonight.

The picture is of Sam a couple of months ago, but I just love it so much. Don't you? He's such a goober!

Cuteness!

2006-01-08T22:56:00.000-08:00

We are doing really well. Christmas was super-great! =) We had a really nice time visiting my family in good ol' nor cal. The snow was crazy on the way back, but it kept us awake. We did the overnight trip thing because we wanted Sam to sleep through it all and not be awake and crying all day. He got sick while we were up there.. we took him to the emergency room because his temp got up to 103. We were really worried for a little bit, but he's doing much better now. It was just a viral infection of some kind. He was really generous and gave it to Greg and I too! What a sweetie.

Please pray.. there's another job prospect out there for Greg as a networking tech at one of the nearby school districts. This would be a BIG load off our shoulders as far as our financial situation goes.

Greg had his second (and hopefully final) round of chemo on Wednesday of last week. It seemed to go well. He got the hiccups again.. a little less often this time, thank goodness. We think we've got the cancer taken care of, now. He's got another checkup in 4 months. Thank you so much for your support and prayers through this tough time. I know that they have helped soooo much.

Sam's keeping me busy. He's gaining two more teeth on bottom and four more on top, the poor little guy. Between naps, he's been a bit fussy. I think he's also a little bored with his parents.

How It Goes

2005-12-13T08:11:00.000-08:00

Greg had chemo last friday. It was an interesting experience to say the least. Here's how it went:

We got there and they brought us into a room full of other people hooked up to IVs. Nobody looked like they were dying or anything, so that was encouraging.

The nurse sat us down in a chair and started "educating" us on the procedure and its after-effects. This was the hard part.. hearing about all the things that could possibly go wrong. I guess there still is a chance that Greg could lose all his hair, which makes me soooo sad. He's got such beautiful hair. The other possible side effects were numbness in his extremeties, nausea, and more susceptiblity to colds/flu/whatever.

The nurse started the IV which sounded like it was pretty painful for poor Greg. He already has a hard time with needles. IVs are brutal. I know from experience. Greg was pretty freaked out at this point, so I asked the nurse for some anti-anxiety medicine like he had when he had surgery. They gave him some ativant, which made him quite happy, quite quickly.

After that was done, they started the chemo (carboplatin), which didn't actually seem to do much to Greg while he was on the IV. So, we sat there for an hour till the chemo was finished. They unhooked him and he could go home.

Since then, Greg has experienced several of the side effects, but none were too major except one. He got hiccups BAD. He must have had 10 sets of hiccups on Saturday and Sunday. At first I didn't think that it could be an actual side-effect, but I looked it up online and found out that it's not completely uncommon for men (in particular), to get hiccups after chemo. I said "well, it's better than puking your guts out, right?" and he agreed with me. Yesterday Greg started feeling a little nauseated, but it hasn't been too bad at all. Weakness/tiredness has been the biggest hinderance, but he's been pretty good about it.

Sam is doing terrifically well. We love him sooooo much. He's happy and funny these days... spoiled rotten, though.

Well.. that's about it. Write comments! I don't know who's reading this anymore! Please?

Crystal

Yes, We Still Exist

2005-12-04T20:57:00.000-08:00

Wow. It's been a while since I've posted. So sorry everyone!

We hope you all are well. Greg is doing great. We will know tomorrow what the plan is as far as chemo or radiation goes. We're not sure what the next step is with job searching, so please be praying for that.

Hey, I'm selling my 2004 vw beetle. It's galactic blue (look on the VW.com website for what that is). If you are interested, please email me at ilikecows13@hotmail.com -- it's only got 8000 miles on it. It's just that we don't want to have to keep making payments on this car we don't want! We're selling it for 13,000 which is a STEAL (trust me.. blue book it). Almost perfect condition.

Sorry for the shameless advertising.

So anyway... new pictures on www.snapfish.com
username: ilikecows13@hotmail.com
password: samuel

Hope your Christmas season is happy so far!

Good News

2005-11-16T19:07:00.000-08:00

Well, things are definitely looking a lot brighter. Greg went and had some more testing done on Friday of last week. They were not sure if there was any more cancer in his body or of exactly what kind of cancer he DID have. The cancer looked like it was contained within his testicle, but they weren't abosolutely certain. After the testing results came back, though, everything looked good. In his CT scan, it looks as though there are no visible tumors in the rest of his body. The blood tests showed that there was no more growth hormone being produced, so that's a good sign too. We are going ahead with radiation treatment because we want to be sure that all existing cancer cells (if there are any) are eradicated before they take hold somewhere.

The only problem now is the posibility of sterility. Although I don't want any more kids at the moment, I do feel like I would like to have more somewhere down the road. Radiation has been known to cause men to become sterile and that would be a serious bummer. We do have Sam and are so glad that he is here, but more kids the merrier. So, we're thinking of sperm-banking.

Please pray for Greg as we are going to be doing this radiation. He has to go all the way to LA for it and that's a LONG drive. (3 hours or so). He will be doing that for three weeks, five days a week. Fortunately, he will be getting the lowest dose that they do.. so that's nice.

If you have any questions about things I forgot to write, feel free to email (ilikecows13@hotmail.com)

Take care, all! Thanks again for your prayers

Love

Crystal

Surgery

2005-11-08T11:27:00.000-08:00

Greg's surgery went well yesterday. He came out fine and we'll have the results on friday. thanks for your prayers. Sam's crying, so I have to go.

Whimper

2005-10-31T06:11:00.000-08:00

Greg definitely has cancer. We're having one of his testicles removed within the next couple of days. We don't know if it has spread or not. They will do tests after the surgery if not during to see if Greg needs further treatment.

Please pray for us.

Go Figure

2005-10-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

Well,

With how wonderful life has been recently (sarcastic), you would think that we would have seen something like this coming. Good grief

Greg might have testicular cancer. He found a lump day before yesterday. We went to the doctor yesterday. They did a sonogram on him to see if it looked serious. It did. They will probably do a biopsy early next week.

We are devastated.

However, We have heard that if men are going to get cancer, this is the kind to get. If he has to have a testicle removed, he still may have baby-making capacity. It's been done before.

So, anyway.. that's our big news for right now. We tried the "extinction" or "cry it out" method on Sam last night. It seemed to work super well. This morning he was really with it and seemed super happy. Right now, he's in his crib crying again. It's time for his morning nap. We're trying to get a little bit more of a schedule extablished here. It's been a little bit frustrating because we haven't had any time to do anything. The house is a disaster. We're tired all the time because we get up 3 times a night with him. I don't believe attatchment parenting was the thing for me, so desperate times call for desperate measures.

Hopefully this will work.

Please be praying for us. We really don't know what is going on. We try not to question God's soveriegnty, but it's hard not to when things are this bad.

Sam Pics

2005-10-25T14:04:00.000-07:00

So, here is where you need to go for all of Sam's recent pictures

www.snapfish.com

username: ilikecows13@hotmail.com
password: samuel

Sorry

2005-10-20T14:09:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, it's nearly been a month... and what a month it has been

Ever have one of those days where the whole world seems to be against you? That everything is going wrong and nothing seems to be working out the way you had hoped? Well, not to whine, but a blog is sure a good excuse for a good vent. This last month has been the most singularly disasterous month of my (and I think my husband's) entire life. It has been quite difficult to keep the faith, but God has been teaching us lots of stuff though it.

The List of Things That Have Recently Gone Wrong:

-Our toilet is broken

-Our digital projector bulb went out--we bought a new one--didn't work--the projector may need repair (It's on it's way to the service center)

-Someone tried to siphon the gas out of the gas tank in our SUV with a knife.. Greg didn't know.. attempted to drive to work (After refilling the empty tank) and was spilling gas all over the freeway... he's lucky he didn't get killed. Had to replace the gas tank--guess how much $700.00!!!! (It would have been a thousand if they hadn't been as nice as they were) Greg's parents paid for the repairs and we are forever grateful.

-We've been trying to switch over to a new (less expensive) insurance plan with Kaiser Permanente. Our son doesn't qualify because of his medical condition.

-We were given a van by Greg's family friends, the Halls. Thank you guys! We are having major issues getting it registered here in California, though.

-We have been trying to get rid of my 2004 VW beetle. ARGH! So frustrating to have to pay for this car that we don't really use. Anybody want it? It's yours for 15,000 if you do! It has one new tire. It's pretty and blue.

-Greg accidently threw away his principal's letter of reccommendation, so now he only has references.. no letters when he goes job hunting.

-Sam has taken to have an 7-8 o'clock nighttime crying session for the last week or so. It's enough to make you crazy when you're as tired as we have been.

-Greg still hasn't had any real estate leads, which is really a bummer. We're wondering why the heck we went for the whole real estate license thing in the first place.

-We bought this 20,000 dollar time share because we could afford it a year ago.. well.. we haven't been able to use it yet because Greg has been having to work so much to keep the bills paid. We were supposed to go to Oregon last week for a week long vacation at a ritzy resort. We can no longer go and I'm bummed because it means that sam doesn't get to see my side of the family until thanksgiving.

-I couldn't find my check card anywhere, so I went ahead and cancelled it and ordered a new one. THe next day, my mother-in-law called and told me it was at her house. Argh!!

-Skittle's license has been expired for over a year now. We need to get her a new one, but in order to do that, we have to have proof that she has had her shots. We can't get proof of that until we go to the place where we got them done. It's over 2 hours away. Forget licensing the dog for now.

-I feel huge. I haven't lost any weight since 3 weeks after I had Sam. I initially lost 30 pounds I'd gained, but I'm still way overweight.. 40 lbs over where I'd like to be, actually and that's hard. I'm doing better at working out, though. Sam is interested in watching me run on the trampoline and lift weights, so that's fun. =)

-This has nothing to do with me directly, but it was still hard to hear. My long-time friend Melanie Briton passed away last week. She had been fighting cancer for a really long time. I had had no idea it was so bad until about 3 weeks before she died. I am going to miss seeing her at True Value when I go home at Christmas. She was a really funny sweet person and I wish I'd been able to spend more time with her when I had the chance. Please remember Melanie's family in your prayers. Having my own child, I can't even imagine what her parents must be going through. It would be utterly devastating to lose Sam and I've barely even gotten to know him. I can't imagine having known him for 24 years and then losing him.

But there have been good things that have happened this past month as well.

-My hubby has an interview for a really wonderful-sounding job on Tuesday at 2:00 pm. We're hoping and praying that it works out. It would definitely be something that would pay the bills.

-My dad is coming down on the 2nd for my great aunt Ada's bithday. She is turning NINETY FIVE. She's an amazing lady and we are so lucky to get to know her. Talk about a determined soul. She has macular degeneration and some dementia and she's just trying as hard as she can to keep on going like those things are nothing. We really admire her for her stamina and just-plain-oomph!

-Greg is working for his Aunt Jane. She is a life saver. IF it weren't for her, we would most likely be living somewhere else...no idea where. Thank the Lord for sweet wonderful and caring relatives!

-Greg took me to see Knott's Halloween Haunt. Oooooooooh it was fun! I was really impressed with the detail work that they put into the event. I had no idea it was so elaborate. Lots and lots of fun. I highly reccommend it (even for the money you end up paying).

-Sam has started SOLIDS! Huzzah!!

So that's that for now. I'll try to get some new pictures up of our little chunk (he weighs almost 16 lbs now). Please keep us in your prayers. We are feeling a bit out of sorts as you can see. We're just hoping that something works out soon as far as the whole job-for-Greg situation goes. If that were covered, everything else would be soooo much more bearable.

Love you guys!

Thanks Sheriduh

2005-09-28T21:02:00.000-07:00

Here's a bit more info about me--survey taken from my friend's blog:

[ ] I am bisexual
[ ] I am homosexual
[ ] I've run away from home
[ ] I listen to political music.
[ ] I collect comic books.
[ ] I shut others out when I'm sad
[ ] I open up to others easily
[ ] I am keeping a secret from the world
[ ] I watch the news
[ ] I own over 5 rap CDs
[x] I own something from Hot Topic
[x] I love Disney movies
[x] I am a sucker for hair/eyes
[ ] I don't kill bugs
[ ] I curse regularly.
[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name.
[x] just to be funny I've slipped out a "lol" in a real conversation
[ ] I love Spam (as the food)
[x] I bake well
[ ] I would wear pajamas to school.
[ ] I have a job
[ ] I love Martha Stewart.
[x] I am in love/like with someone.
[ ] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS
[x] I am self conscious.
[x] I like to laugh.
[ ] I smoke.
[ ] I loved Go Ask Alice.
[ ] I have cough drops when I'm not sick.
[ ] I can't swallow pills.
[ ] I have many scars
[x] I've been out of this country
[ ] I believe in ghosts.
[x] I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room
[x] I am really ticklish
[x] I love chocolate.
[x] I bite my nails
[x] I am comfortable with being me
[x] I play computer games/video games when I'm bored
[x] Gotten lost in the city
[x] Saw a shooting star.
[ ] I had a serious Surgery.
[x] Gone out in public in your pajamas
[x] I have kissed a stranger.
[x] Hugged a stranger.
[ ] been in a fist fight with the same sex.
[ ] Been arrested.
[ ] Laughed and had milk/soda come out of your nose
[ ] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator
[x] Made out in an elevator
[x] Swore at your parents.
[x] Kicked a guy where it hurts.
[ ] Been skydiving
[ ] Been bungee jumping.
[ ] Broken a bone.
[ ] Played spin the bottle.
[x] Gotten stitches
[ ] Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour
[x] Bitten someone
[ ] Been to Niagara Falls.
[x] Gotten the chicken pox.
[ ] Crashed into a car ... mailbox ... dirt hill.
[ ] Been to Japan
[x] Ridden in a taxi.
[ ] Shoplifted.
[ ] Been fired.
[x] had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
[x] Stole something from your job.
[x] Gone on a blind date.
[x] Had a crush on a teacher/coach. (In First Grade, mind you)
[ ] Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
[x] Been to Europe.
[ ] Slept with a co-worker.
[x] Been married
[ ] Gotten divorced.
[x] Saw someone/something dying ... and it was a cat!
[ ] Driven over 400 miles in one day. ... before I was legal driving age
[ ] Been to Canada.
[x] Been on a plane.
[ ]Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
[ ] Thrown up in a bar.
[ ] Eaten Sushi.
[ ] Been snowboarding.
[ ] Been skiing.
[x] Been ice skating.
[x] Met someone in person from the internet
[x]Going to or have gone to college.
[ ] Done drugs
[x] Taken painkillers.
[ ] Cheated on someone else
[ ] Had sex with more than one person.
[x] Thought about suicide
[ ] Feared for your life because of another
[x] Been hurt so bad you'll never forget the pain.
[ ] Wished somebody would die
[ ] Lied to your girlfriend/boyfriend

2005-09-20T13:31:00.000-07:00

Sam and Me Looking At a Fountain at the L.A. County Fair

2005-09-20T13:27:00.000-07:00

He's Sittin' Up!

I'm EVIL

2005-09-09T11:07:00.000-07:00

So, I had an opportunity to be nice yesterday, and I didn't take it. Sam and I were at Target. I had a gift card from my birthday. I had intended to use it to buy the second season of "Northern Exposure." When I got to the video section, however, I noticed that the latest season of the simpsons was available, but there was only one copy of it left! Ohhhhh choices, choices, choices! Argh! So I put The Simpsons in my cart in order to ponder my dilemma further. As I was standing there, staring at the shelf of dvds, a guy came up with his wife. He looked at my cart, looked at the shelf, and said "I think we missed it." I was supposing that he was talking about the simpsons since the only other thing sitting in my cart was my son.

I did the unthinkable. As the guy with his wife was drooling over my treasure, I walked away! Am I horrible or what!? I mean, I hadn't even intended to buy the stupid set in the first place! I didn't want the Simpsons, I wanted Northern Exposure! But when the guy made it seem like he wanted it to, all the competitive rage in me said, "No! It's mine!" And I walked away with it! What a jerk I am. I know, only guys can be jerks.

This senario is why I don't play sports. I can't stand to lose

What's new

2005-09-01T13:31:00.000-07:00

Hi Dudes and Dudettes

Greg and I are having a DATE NIGHT! Woohoo! My friend Rachel (aka: Raquelita) is coming to babysit our little bundle and we are taking off to eat at PF Changs and watch "March of the Penguins!"

I'm very excited. Can you tell?

Sam had an awful night last night, but he had a great day day before yesterday. It is nice to know that he's human.

He had his first smile last week. That was absolutely joyous. I couldn't believe how it affected me. I started crying! (Not that that's unusual or anything). It was really wow-ful to see him showing emotion besides grinning.

2005-08-29T22:04:00.000-07:00

A REALLY CUTE ONE OF OUR LIL' SAM

What's New

2005-08-26T15:55:00.000-07:00

Well, things are looking up for Sam. He is no longer in dire need of surgery. The specialist thinks that we can put it off for a year or so as long as we keep Sam on antibiotics. He may actually grow out of the condition, but it's not likely. He's such a little trooper, our little guy. He doesn't like his medicine very much, but he tolerates it fairly well.

Greg's real estate stuff is kind of stalling these days. We're pretty frustrated with all of that. We don't know exactly what God is wanting us to do at this point, but we're trying to trust Him. Please pray for us, though. If we don't start making comissions (REALLY SOON), we might have to sell this house and move somewhere...we don't really know where.

Karlie found out that she is having a boy. That was happy news for me.. I want Sam to have a boy cousin, but Karlie wanted a girl. But, maybe the doctor was wrong. We'll see. We'll actually know by next week most likely.

I turned 24 on the 15th of August. We didnt' do much celebrating.. It's difficult with a little one. But I still had a nice time with my hubby.

2005-08-09T21:56:00.000-07:00

Here's My New Favorite Picture of Him and Me

2005-08-09T21:48:00.000-07:00

Here's one of Sam and I a couple weeks ago

Things Are Good

2005-08-09T10:26:00.000-07:00

Things are good in our household these days. Sam is learning so much. Greg has a few leads with his real estate stuff and I am not feeling quite so insane anymore. I am enjoying being a new mom more and more all the time! My 24th birthday is in less than a week! I can hardly believe how much has happened since my last one. We've been to Europe, remodeled a house to sell, decided to keep the house, gotten pregnant, had a baby, my husband has started a new career, and I am wondering where all the time has gone! I feel like nothing will ever feel normal again, but it's already more normal than it was before Sam was born.

2005-07-30T21:05:00.000-07:00

This is a sleepy Sam

2005-07-30T21:03:00.000-07:00

This is Sam in the mirror.. I took this after feeding him.

2005-07-30T21:01:00.000-07:00

This is Sam saying "Hi" and working on a smile. (Not the best pic, but it's cute)

2005-07-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

Dad with Sam Again

Ugh...

2005-07-19T15:51:00.000-07:00

So the last week has been awful, to say the least. My poor little Samuel Paul was hospitalized. He had a urinary tract infection. We noticed that he was fussy a day or so before he started getting the fever. We thought it was thrush. He's had that for about a week now, so we just assumed it was the diaper rash and sores in his mouth.

About 3:00 on Wednesday, Sam was REALLY crying. We tried everything to get him to stop. I noticed he was warm, so I had Greg take his temperature. It was 101.9, which in a baby is dangerous. So, off to the hospital we went. On the way there, I took his temp again, and it was 103.5, which terrified me.

So, we got to the emergency room. They ran a series of tests on him to try to find out what the problem was. One of the tests they had to do was a lumbar puncture to test for Spinal Meningitis. A lumbar puncture is also known as a spinal tap. Poor Sam was stabbed in the back with a long thick needle about 12 or 13 times. The first doctor had a really hard time getting the fluid, so that's why he had to be re-punctured so many times. The second got it on the second try. It was awful!
So then they did an IV and blood tests and the poor little guy was just crying like you wouldn't believe. I had to feed him countless times that night to settle him down. He was then transferred to another hospital where he would stay for two more days. The next hospital was a lot nicer, but we still felt very traumatized. We had not been expecting what happened, and it was really hard to accept anything anybody told us. By the time we were released on Saturday, we felt like we were ready to crack up.

So Sam is doing okay. But unfortunately, it's looking like he's in for surgery. He has what is known as Vesicoureteral Reflux.Basically, it's that one of his uriters (the tubes that connect the kidneys to the bladder) is not functioning right. It looks like it is twisted and longer than it should be. This causes a problem with urination where pee actually backs up into the kidneys again, causing infections. The only way to correct this particular type of problem is through surgery. There are lesser degrees of the same condition, but Sam's kind of the worst case senario. So please pray for him. He's on antibiotics and stuff, so he won't be getting an infection again (we hope). He's really doing better and his thrush is MUCH better than it was. But we are so sad that he has to have an operation. Talk about trauma for the little man. We are hoping that they can get it done as soon as possible so we don't have to think about it any more. But the doctor on the phone said that the specialist that will be doing the surgery is very busy and it could be a couple of months before he's available to even do a consultation.

I'm scared. Being a mom is hard enough. Dealing with all this is something that I never believed would happen. It is going to be a tough few weeks ahead.

2005-07-11T15:45:00.001-07:00

Sam With Dad

2005-07-11T15:45:00.000-07:00

Sam Staring Out the Window