Healing, Helping, Heat, and Hand Made Give Away!

I am headed down to help my mother in law for the day (or two?). In my absence I am sending everyone some warmth and encouragement for springtime weather! C'mon Mother Nature, bring it on! We need some heat!

Now the Give Away!
There is a great idea floating about lately and here's the drill:

I promise to send the first 3 persons who comment in this post something hand made before the end of this year. (Thank you to whoever came up with that rule!) Yup, something fabulous from little 'ol S'mee! Maybe photo cards, maybe a painting, maybe something hand sewn, or who knows? But definitely hand made! And received before the end of this year. Oh the mystery! What will it be? (if only the neighbors dogs could be considered "home made"...you'd receive your gift, like, on Monday! But alas, no. so you'll need to wait and be surprised!)

Here's the rub: If you sign up to receive a hand made gift you need to "pay it forward" on your own blog. That is, you'll make a post similar to this and then promise and hand make a gift for three other bloggers by the end of the year! C'mon, an-y-thing home made by you by the end of the year! You can do this! How fun!

So o.k. my peeps! Comment away!

random list

*We have two new RS Presidencies in our stake this month so we needed to have an orientation with the new gals. We decided a while back that this kind of a meeting isn't the most exciting, always goes longer than you'd think, and frankly everyone needs it, but nobody wants it. So we start ours out with a dinner.

There was one a while back where we were all so busy that we didn't have time to cook, so we ordered up Chinese and chatted it up over orange chicken and noodles. This dinner idea is a good one. The women who come are sometimes, not always, but sometimes intimidated or just plain overwhelmed. Seeing your 'leaders' eating a cheese enchilada has a way of relaxing people.

This last dinner meeting was so much fun. I got to meet up with a bunch of ladies I haven't seen in a while and I think we had more fun visiting than going over a list of do's and don'ts. One of the gals is a teacher, she had fabulous questions so the night went really fast.

I have been away from the house more than usual which has made the interior similar to that of an abandoned warehouse, except it's more like an abandoned 1500sf. E gads, the floor in the hall way looked like it had been carpeted with dryer lint. Partially because that is where the "laundry room" is, but also because we have just run it, done a few loads of laundry and headed out again without polishing the 'wood' (read laminate) floors and we haven't had Roomba plugged in for a while. (He goes back on duty today!) Under the dining room table looks just as fluffy, but with a stray dead leaf. Yeah. Appetizing.

*Ants. Wo Wo Wo unto the ants in this house! I am SO ticked (to use another insect for anger analogy) with these guys! I swear (I'm getting better about just doing that in my head, but still). We could have the kitchen counter smeared with marshmallow cream and they still would just randomly show up in the hall (which they did yesterday), the closet (what's in there?), Thor's desk (because bills are tasty?), or hanging out in the bathroom sink (yeah, I know, the whole water thing. But really; if they want water all that bad there is a neighbor who leaves his on all the freaking time!). We rarely have ants where you would expect them, but the whole of it is making me cranky. I have little black plastic ant traps everywhere. It's disgusting.

*I decided that I can't take the treadmill in the bedroom anymore. (I actually can't take a lot of what's in the bedroom anymore, but I can do something about the treadmill.) So I got it in my head that I could just move this and that and shove it into the girls' room where we already have the weight machine (and permanently set up ironing board - lovely, but I'm lazy.) and the twin bed for that single visitor (all other visitors fight over couches or -the winner- who gets to go to a hotel). So fate being what it is, I chose the day I wore my perfect white tee to do the move. No big deal, it folds; it has rollers.

O.k. So I clear the path from one room to the other, this baby is huge. I had to move a couple of books that stuck out too far in the hall book case, had to move said ironing board a few feet, put this over there, that over there and we're ready! I fold the machine and lock it and the tip the beast just enough to roll it. I SAID: TIP IT JUST ENOUGH TO ROLL IT! Good grief this thing weighs for thousand pounds and is stuck in those tiny but very deep carpet scars heavy objects make. UUUuuUuGGGhhh OOomph Oooohh uh oh! At this point I am making mental notes on how I am very happy no one is video taping this. Sweet mercy this is a bit more difficult than I antiscipated, but it's too late to stop now!

I make it the door, but too late to notice it is exactly 1.5 inches too wide to fit through. Seriously? Ugh. I think "o.k, I'll just roll it back into the bedroom and slide it through sideways." Well the machine only rolls one way. So I kind of have to power lift one end of the beast and twist it, drop it, lift the other end of the beast, twist it and drop it and lather rinse repeat about 15 times before I can wedge my tiny self between the beast and the door jam, which by the way rhymes very well with a perfectly good swear word right about now.

I get it turned around and begin the process all over again, in reverse, to get it out into the hallway. I get it to the other bedroom door and lather rinse repeat.

Inside the bedroom now I (inwardly begin to weep) realize my white tee shirt is no more. But I press on (because I am an idiot). I go back to the master bedroom to grab the floor mat that goes under the beast to catch any stray machine grease (too late, got all that on my white tee and new chinos). I mop it clean and set it down in the right spot. I am happy that the rollers will work! Yeah! Just roll it into place! Whew!

Well until I figure out that the rollers just wudge up the plastic mat into a thick plastic wave of doom. To remedy this I need to tip the beast back onto my self while I bend over enough to grab the plastic and keep it taut with one hand while I walk and balance the beast into place. Yes, this creates a beautiful visual; although I do feel like Mr. Incredible after I am done.

I get it where it needs to be and plug it in. The phone rings. It's my daughter in law who wants to know what I am doing (Is she watching through the windows?). "Just cleaning today" "You want an excuse to stop?" I knew I loved this girl the minute I laid eyes on her. We go to Target. Frankly, if she wanted me to go anywhere it would have been a great idea at that point!

*My two nephews (twins) went through the temple for the first time last night prior to leaving for their respective missions (one to the "South side of Chicago, to the baddest part of town..." Well perhaps not, but South Chicago, Spanish. and the other to Germany/Austria). That was great. A beautiful night to be there with family and friends and to fill up the temple with people we love and respect. These two young men are awesome.

*Our #3 is moving today. This is the third move this year. For some reason my daughters like moving. Not really, they just have a habit of doing it a lot. I am glad for this move. She has her first 'off the desert' job with a "nice" dentist and a fabulous apartment in a great area. Plus she gets to live alone for the first time. If she gets a roommate, she'll be the land lord. She gets to make the decisions, it will be her "house". I am happy for her. Being the alpha roommate has perks the lesser roommate does not. Furniture, temperature level, closet space, etc. She has paid her dues, it's her turn now! I would (most seriously) love to live in that building where she lives, it's a great place all around. Almost perfect SoCAL location for S'mee. She wouldn't be so happy to have us there, but when or if she moves out...hmmm, maybe I can talk Thor into that!

The big bonus is this building has an elevator! Thor and the brothers are thrilled to hear this. Her last move (well and the one today moving out) had those really cool exterior stairs that have about 6 steps, a landing, a turn, and then another 6 steps and a landing. For one level you had to turn three times. She lives 6 landings up. (plus there are five stairs down to the common area, then across the grounds and another five stairs up to the parking lot. These people are stair freaks) Not fun for the movers. Thor asked if he could just throw the stuff out the bedroom window and replace what was broke after the fall with new stuff. If you know Thor at all, this is a clear indication of just how horrid the stairs are. He is giddy about an elevator.

*It's only 10:00 a.m., but all I can think of is some B&R's chocolate chip ice cream. I think I'll call my daughter in law and see what she's doing for lunch.

Whined it up Wednesdays! -Baby Crack -

Welcome to the first edition of Whined it up Wednesdays! Today's fare comes from a new Mommy.

Dear S'mee,

I am expecting my first baby in December. Already my sister in law and Mother in law are giving me "helpful" parenting advice. One example is in their family pacifiers are not allowed. They want me to just nurse the baby each time he cries. They say this will help bond the baby whereas the pacifier will give the baby "Billy Bob Teeth" and too much dependence on something other than me. What did you do? What should I do?

Sign me,

P-O'd in Provo

Dear P-O'd,

In laws can be very helpful to be sure, however sometimes you need to let them know you are up to the task, whatever that task may be. Just remember they are your hubby's family and will be with you FOR EV ER! So play nice.

As far as I can recall, a pacifier won't cause damage to baby teeth or mouth development. But yeah, they become like Baby Crack. Back in the day I would have paid any amount of money to keep that crack in the house. The only exception is if your pediatrician suspects nipple confusion, in which case, stinks to be you, and the baby will be off all but one source for satisfaction.

Other than that, I think a baby will take the pacifier if and when they want. Babies have a way of calling the shots, and this is no exception. By the time they are a year old however, they are beginning to really like the pacifier. There are a couple of options depending on your preferences.

On their one year birthday, S'mee threw out all bottles, pacifiers, and yup even the sippy cups. My kids had learned by them to drink from a glass. The trick there is very little liquid at a time. But that's another post. They were not happy to be sans pacifier, but the habit left swiftly and after a looong week, we were fine. Really. Yeah. We were! (Be firm! You can do this!)

Another option is to wait until a certain age. A few months prior to that date you can begin telling your little one about the "ninny" faery, or whatever you call the danged thing. The faery comes on that date, takes all the pacifiers and leaves a treat of your deciding. All done. Kind of like the tooth faery.

Or you can let your child decide when to give it up. Although I have seen many a toddler with a pacifier dangling from their mouth. This is hard to speak through (and yes, this does cause speech delays) and also the older they are the more difficult it will be to give it up. So you may want to think about how much your little guy is depending and using his pacifier, if he should be learning words and talking, and just how difficult this habit will be for him to break.

As far as depending on someone other than you for all his needs, well, um, yeah he's going to need to do that! This is where daddy, gramma, siblings, the dog and that irritating lady at church come in handy. Your child will learn to depend on, and trust, all kinds of folks. You don't want him screaming with fear every time your sister in law comes over now do you? Tell her he needs to bond with her also.

So there you go. O.k. people, I need more letters! Let see that s'mee mail fill up! That's it for this week.

Carlton's log: day 2 in Vegas

O.k. So today I dropped Thor off at his meeting and headed out to meet my sister in law and see their new digs. Brother in law is a FBI Agent (yeah, so don't mess with S'mee), but outta town on TOP SECRET stuff. Well maybe not top secret, but it sounds better.

She gave me directions and I headed out, and out some more and then took a left and a right and drove for about 30 or so minutes (at 80mph thanks you very much) and finally got to where they live. I had NO IDEA Las Vegas was like a zillion square miles. They actually live in a little part of "Vegas" that looks like normal home town neighborhoods. Lawns and curbs and normal traffic, no signs, no neon, weird Vegas. Nice Vegas, who knew? (evidently the FBI knew... but then again, they know everything.)

We had a great chat while her first kid was at school, second sat under a table (for 2 hours) and the baby sat in my lap grinning at this crazy "new" lady. We discussed the usual stuff, paint, grass, what to do with the dog doo while her hubby is out of town. It was cool. Normally when I meet with this s-i-l it is a family event and there are about 35 other people there and you never really get an opportunity to sit uninterrupted for 2 and 3 hours with just one person.

Thor and I met with a co-worker and had dinner at P.F.Chang's and a nice conversation also. The main topic was the co-workers new washer and dryer, and how now everyone wishes they had one just like it...although I can't see Thor and I ever paying close to $3,500.00 to wash and dry clothes, however efficient. He had a pretty good time telling us all the gory details and yeah, I wish I could pull jeans out of the washer almost dry, grr, but well why buy a dryer then?

Phone calls to all the kids and a quiet night watching Thor's "Smallville".

Our Big Fat Wedding begins....

Dateline: Thursday night. Two days after the endowment - which went GREAT, so cool, so wonderful to see your kid in the temple, doing the right thing and ready to be doing it. What a blessing from Heavenly Father!

So it's Thursday and we are now in the exact middle. 2 days after the endowment and two days before the wedding/sealing! Mother of the Bride (K) is going into high gear and she has a plan. Unfortunately her plan was tilted a tad by a very unpleasant false ceiling gal and her crew. "K" had seen the ceiling lady's work many times before and was impressed. A billowing cloud full of twinkle lights was ordered and expected. Long story short, the ceiling expert was miffed because "K" wanted this material instead of that material and what she eventually got was a flat ceiling made of tulle. 61/2 hours for a flat tulle ceiling. Ridiculous. More than that, ceiling lady made such a fuss about it that she refused to work if anyone was in the room, so all the help "K" had organized had to be sent home without being able to help at all.

At 12:00 midnight "K" decided to pull the plug on the ceiling and call it. It was what it was and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Let's all go home. Hmmm. Where's the doohickey that closes and locks the door? (search search search) At 12:30 a phone call was made, a Bishop was awakened from his sleep, and by 1:00 the doohickey was found, building secured and all out and headed home.

8:00 Friday: Day before the wedding. 2 moms, one bride, and one little brother are able to meet and set up for the big party. 18 tables, 180 chairs, 4 buffet tables, 2 gift tables, one cake table, and one punch table are set up and dressed. All tables have white brocade table clothes. All 180 chairs are dressed with floor length tailored covers. The large tables with floor length clothes as well. A runner of periwinkle and celery plaid is placed on all tables, the seating tables topped with floral arrangements of hydrangea, orchids, and star lilies in clear glass vases. They sit atop a mirror with 6 small tea lights and cracked "glass" chips for colour. The larger tables have double sided ribbon swags with small wreaths at the centers and corners made of tiny hydrangea blossoms, green baby apples, and eucalyptus.

The stage was draped with white fabric to resemble a "water fall" with twinkling lights underneath, tulle fluffs along the top edge, again with lights, and a floral swag of hydrangea, green apples, and eucalyptus. Behind the fluff were draped stands that held 9 photos of the new couple interspersed with three cut crystal hurricane lamps with candles.

The cake and buffet tables had the same effect as the stage with the "white water fall". The cake table was dressed with a large silver cake plateau. The cake was 3 tier, extremely smooth whipped cream frosting, decorated with woven pearls strands and pearl points. In between the tiers were full sized fresh hydrangeas and the top was the bride's mother's cake top, a crystal blown glass heart with doves.

The Punch bowl were placed inside green apple wreaths.

The buffet was decorated with lighted food stands, topiaries of green apple, and fruit skewers. All the tables had tulle fluff and the cracked "glass chips" along with fine glitter sprinkled over all for shimmer, and were lit from underneath with special lights to create a pretty glow.

Back drops were made by the groom out of wrought iron and painted black. They were "Shepard's crooks", 2, one on each side, draped in the center with periwinkle satin, gently gathered. They stood 7 feet tall and about 4 feet wide. Each curl on the crook held a small candle lit glass lantern. Behind the buffet there were five of these back drops and one each behind the cake and punch tables.

There was a fog machine and bubble machine that were set to work for certain dances to give it a terrific effect.

The entry table was placed in the foyer of the building under a large painting of the Savior's Second Coming. The blues and periwinkles of that picture along with the bridal photos blended perfectly and set the tone for the evening. A large vase of fresh hydrangeas, orchids and star lilies was placed behind the guest book and temple photos.

The surrounding walls in the reception hall were covered with draped and pleated tulle, topped with a fluffy border with twinkle lights behind. The tulle ceiling was still pretty flat, but the bride made beautiful crystal "rain drops" that hung all over the room, making the ceiling quite glittery and gorgeous. It was really great.

The room was lit well by the twinkle lights, up-lights, and candles (battery) quite well.

By 9:00 that night we were able to leave, satisfied with the result. Pretty.

By 9:00 S'mee remembered that she left the bridesmaids' dresses at the now closed alterations store without the ability to call because S'mee didn't have the phone number to call and if she did, HELLO! WE'RE CLOSED!!! A drive by the store revealed she does not work the weekends. Dresses would be hostage until Monday, 2 days after the wedding. Smooth one S'mee.

How to torture a 2 year old...

It's good to be 2!
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Today (yesterday) was our grandson's 2nd birthday. We had a party over at the other gramma and grampa's house, and man did that little boy make a haul! Each time the door bell rang he would run to the door, "Hi!" grab your package and run to give it to his Aunt, who insisted all presents were for her. The fire place hearth was full to the edges! He hadn't really caught on that eventually all those present would not be hers! He's a pretty good little guy about sharing anyway. (He has a REALLY good mommy, daddy's not so bad either.) His 3 year old cousin was there. Sadly, she did understand who was going to be opening all those gifts. We allow the kids to play a while, eat some pizza and it's time to open the gifts.

I got trash! : )
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

It takes a minute for him to realize, "Hey, I get to help mommy open this stuff!" But once he's into it, he's into it! Everyone is excited for him. The first package comes down from the hearth and it is filled to the brim with red tissue paper, striped tissue paper and lots of it! The anticipation is rising! We all know what's in there! We can't stand it anymore we want to see that little face light up! Egads, child open that present! Very soon one and then another person is asking him, "What did you get?" He keeps digging and digging and pulling all the paper out. He almost there...He replies, "Trash!" He looks up and is a little confused but seemingly very happy that we all gave him trash! He giggles some more and then finds the toy. This is pretty good!

Where's the guitar?
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

There are lots of presents left to be opened but the toy he got first was pretty good. Mommy is able to convince him that waiting to play and opening some more toys is a better idea. So he sits down in her lap and opens another one. This time he has hit the mother load! It's a "Wiggles" musical guitar and it's RED! And plays familiar songs! And has a hundred million buttons to push! And the "Wiggles" have their pictures on it! THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER! Man oh man does this kid think that guitar is it and a bag of chips!

But there are more toys to open. So mommy talks him into putting the guitar aside and opening one more package. He doesn't really want to, but mommy says we have to, so o.k. Open up one more box... yeah o.k. big deal, books! Where's that guitar? And he FLIES out of mommy's lap and into Great Gramma's because she has the guitar! This scene is repeated with the addition of more dull books, a possible prospect for the middle of the night "Wiggles" flashlight car, some lousy clothes, a couple of crumby church type toys, an interesting but not quite up to par ambulance with lights and sirens and a man who shouts orders, a red Hawaiian shirt that merited an unsolicited "CUTE!", but, MAN! WHAT DOES A KID HAVE TO DO AROUND HERE TO GET TO THAT GUITAR? I was losing it! It was so funny to watch him go for that guitar and finally he got to play with it. WHEW!

He was pretty good about not being crabby, but he really wanted at that guitar! It worked out well, however, because the 3 year old was able to get her hands on all the other toys and play with them while he was occupied with said guitar! So everyone was happy.

After the toy playing came candle blowing. He stood straight up until the signal was given and then practically ate the candles in his attempt at blowing them out. First shot -there out! (I think we had practised this!) And then before mommy or daddy could react, he grabbed the candle out and showed everyone the prize! "Whoa, that's HOT!" He said in surprise. Luckily he didn't grab it by the wick, but he still felt the warmth of the wax on those tiny fingers. Then he began to laugh and said, "It's mommy's, it's YUMmy!" We all ate dessert and took a million pictures and had a grand time.

I love that little boy!

If you don't want my peaches, don't shake my tree.

I have written this post 5 times now. Each time it ends up being WAY too long and sounds very gripey by the end, and I am just mad after reading it for corrections, etc. So I will not rewrite it again. Just suffice it to say that if you want to stay married, love your husband for who he is and has always been. You can begin by looking at him as the eternal companion he will be someday and if you treat him nice for what can give you, he just might start being nice back. Appreciate each other. Be a united front and stop arguing in front of the kids. They learn from you two. If you -their only example of Heavenly Father and Mother- are fighting over crap -yeah, I said crap- then why do you think they fight and argue over who gets what toy? Good grief! Go to the master bathroom, turn on the faucet and have the argument behind those doors. Learn to live within your means and teach your kids to do the same. Lighten up. If you can't live happy on this rock for 60 years you'll never be happy for eternity. Let this be your mantra: If it won't matter in five years why worry (fight, etc.) about it? (Chances are if it matters for five years it could matter for eternity. Who knows.)

Discipline your kids and get a grip mom, you're the boss so start acting like one. Kids need clear instruction and boundaries. If someone sent you to Pluto, you'd need to learn the language, the etiquette, the rules and what is expected behaviors, or you would never succeed. If you stood up as tall as you could and you only came up to their knees you'd freak out too. Try seeing things from their vantage point and give them a break once and a while. Let them win the little things and pick your wars. Be strict with the things that will matter in five years. Play with them. And again, if you can't enjoy them for 18 years, how do you think eternity is going to feel? Not all teenagers have to be horrid, they are a reflection of what you created in your home.

P.S. Not that I don't want to help you, or listen to your woes (trust me, we have ALL been there), I am just tired of the incessant complaints without you taking action or responsibility for your part in it too. And yes, I know there are kids that are just flown in from the planet REBELLION and no matter what you do they will go their merry way and there you go. But I think sometimes we give up too easily on a kid who is just plane bored and name him/her trouble. 'Nuff said.

Six Years of Childhood

I was traveling this morning and ran across sohoman.blogspot.com.

I read through some of his words, feelings really; and they triggered old memories.

When our eldest child was 6 he was diagnosed with a rare form of a rare (then*) blood disease. For a "rare" disease it was normal that a child would acquired it and could then go through it relatively unchanged, recovering unaided within 6 weeks. Then the secondary group of kids who would recover aided via steroid and drug therapy. Third group: recovered after therapies that involved "unproven drug therapies". Our son was in a 2% group that was totally unresponsive and would "never recover" and have potential for fatal repercussion. He, as a result of the disease, had a dangerously enlarged spleen, extremely low platelets, high white count, constant severe bruising, spontaneous bleeding - internal/external, extremely lowered immunities, acquired Hep. C, Cytomegalovirus, pneumonia several times a year, viral meningitis, and other complications that kept him out of school for 3 years and then some, and away from church and social situations (read: pretty much any where but home). Blah, blah, blah.

We set our lives on auto-pilot and went to hospital/clinic visits (1 hour commute one way) sometimes daily and most often at least twice a week, for six years. During this time we prayed. A lot. We pleaded with the Lord to relieve our family from this disease, to heal our little boy, to make everything right again. Once in a while we would throw in a "if it be Thy will", but I'm being honest here - I wanted my miracle, not His will. I did however, maintain my faith through it all and I (looking back on it now) can't remember ever being "WHY ME? WHY US? OH CURSES!!" and being angry with God. I remembered that everyone has their trial and all that, this was just one of ours. (there would be more) I definitely had my "please feel sorry for me" pity parties and there were times when I was so tired of it all I just went silently crazy. I can remember burying my child several times and rehearsing in my head how I would explain to younger siblings that he had died. I would breakdown and cry almost every month in the shower - especially after a particularly hard treatment or exam (lumbar punctures and bone marrow checks were devastatingly painful to witness, and much more painful to go through as my son had to).

There were those who tried to comfort us, me. They would call and chat and visit when appropriate. I looked forward to these angel friends. They saved us many times just by showing up and staring with us into the green hued light of a sterile room. There were those who seemed to delight in our misery. They would point out that if we were truly faithful the Lord would stretch forth His mighty hand and cure our son. Thanks. That helps. The truth is -and I understood this then- that the Lord is in control and although having faith is a good thing, unless I have the faith of a prophet, I wouldn't changed the Lord's plan in this matter. Tough luck, too bad, stinks to be me. This was a nice test and there you go. Deal with it. The words still hurt, then, and still now. Don't tell me I do not have faith when it comes to my little boy. I wanted to hurt this person back, but there is no equal to the pain her words caused. So move on.

We were in and out of the hospital so many times we had a specific room assigned just for us. The nurses knew us by name. The doctors were open and friendly. The routine became routine. Pajamas were home made so that he could have firemen and dinosaurs, trucks and other fun prints on his bleached and funky smelling hospital snap up the sides IV accessible nightwear. Special body pillows to alleviate the bruising of his body and bloodied nose just from his turning in his sleep. Mornings would be met with mouthwash to rinse the blood from his mouth so he could taste his breakfast. "Mint flavored everything in the morning." Hugs were forbidden at times because of the bruising. A spleenectomy was suggested, but his platelets never rose high enough to accommodate the surgery. And there were no trips to parks or slides or swings or school with chums. He was home schooled by a grumpy old lady who came twice a week. Eventually his levels rose enough to merit some activity, and then they would drop and he would be pulled from having a normal kid life a again.

Year six met us with quite a surprise. His levels began to rise. Each week a little more until he had enough to seem like a remission. Time was now monitored and eventually he was in a "remission". After a year they called it a full remission and we were allowed to come in for check ups once a month, then every 6 months and eventually once a year. Now there are blood counts and checks for various diseases every 5 years. So far so good.

He's married now. Almost 18 months. He still has some minor situations in his body that are directly linked to his childhood disease. But he's a big burly fireman. One of those that was on the first strike team a few years back when CA was on fire. His team was right there next to the team from up north, the team that lost one of their men down saving San Diego. My son fought 40' and 50' flames in the hills above Claremont, then San Berdoo, then San Diego. If they needed a strong team of fire fighters, they sent in my son's group. He's my hero.

Heavenly Father has a time schedule and a plan for our son. Our son is one of the healed. He is a miracle. There are moments when I am plagued with guilt because he was healed while other little children, some with more terrible diseases, grew up and are still tethered to the clinic, the 4th floor, to seclusion, to IV poles, to not being big and burly. These little children and their families are still in my heart. They are still heroes to me. I know their hope and they trial and their faith. I know that there is sometimes nothing left to say or do, but breathe in the sterilized bleach scented air and gaze into dotted ceiling tiles. Learn how to run and repair your IV pump. Find all the words hidden in the letters of your disease. Mentally destroy all your "mean white cells". Count the squares in your room, the holes in the curtains. Rent a video. Pray for the hug that can come when the count rises. Eat chocolate-hazelnut tofutti. Scare the nurses. Race in a wheelchair when no one is looking. Knock on the morgue door after 9 p.m. Replace the urine specimen with apple juice and drink it in front of the lab tech. Have your mom paint a smiley face on your tush with lip stick for the night nurse to find. Decorate your room, you're going to be there for a while.

There are other children who face different challenges. I feel empathy for them, their families, mommies and daddies. My hope is that they know they are not alone and that they are receiving hidden gifts and blessings. I pray for their strength and knowledge of eternal truths. My heart stays with them all.

Thank you to the friends we have. Thank you Heavenly Father for saving the little boy who now saves others. Thanks for the whole experience that helped our family stay together and prioritize what really matters.

* Idiopathic Thrombo Cytopenia Purpura or I.T.P. - I.T.P. as stated above, is usually a very harmless and dull disease in which patients basically recover without incident in about 6 weeks; and thus go unrecorded. Back in our day, not one case had been recorded in Southern California for 14 years prior. Severe cases such as ours, required hospitalization and treatment. Less severe recored cases require in and out patient treatments. By the time we were into 3 years of the disease there were 12 more boys in the same hemotology/onocology clinic. Idiopathic defines this as an unknown cause for disease. We believe it is environmentally charged as the disease is claiming more and more children each year. The cause is unknown, however boys seem to have a higher incident of illness than do girls. There is a strong indication that one acquires I.T.P. after a severe lung problem, such as a strong cold, or pneumonia. This was not our situation; we had no illness prior to the discovery of this. Although our son continues to have severs colds, allergies and bouts with pneumonia on a regular basis. On the plus side, he also has a more efficient use of his lungs, which enables him to use less air than most people in a similar situation. This is a good thing for a fire fighter using an air tank!

Bins and Purge

About a year ago I gave a class to about 25 women on home organization and storage. I think the initial thought was, "Physician- heal thyself!". I have lived in the same area for the past 27+ years and frankly, folks know me! So there was some skepticism all around on my ability to express any coherent objectives that would be received with any form of acceptance. (I am not known for my model home appearance.) But those who truly know me know that I enjoy (not suffer from) certain OCD benefits that have helped me be organized, if not tidy. So the class was on; and to my surprise I actually had attendees.

Since then I have been asked to travel to other groups and teach the same class about 6 times. Next week will be another trip into the junk drawer and hopefully these ladies will laugh along and have a good time while we talk "dirty".

I like to survey ahead and get some ideas from the attendees, things they are having trouble with or things they would like information on. Questions from the past have included everything from, "How do I throw away things my mother-in-law gave me?" to "How do I get my kids to help without it becoming punishment for all of us?" Answers to the above: Just throw your mother-in-law away first. And, That's impossible. Actually there are more realistic answers, but I'd bore you here with the long dissertation.

Basically being organized is a matter of getting rid of all the "stuff" you have accumulated over the years and being consistent about storing the "stuff" you keep in well labeled clear containers. Then get some OCD of your own to stay on top of things. This way, tidy or cluttered, when someone asks if you have those tiny gold safety pins you know the answer and if the answer is yes, you know right where there are.

The theory of realtivity or why eternity is only 30 years

I think I am posting more complaints than happy thoughts. I had made a goal for myself to try and be more positive in my observing and to try to post things that up lift rather than just have an open gripe session. Then this.

I met with a friend last night for dinner. Last night's kitten dish spilled the "details" of why two of my very good friends are getting a divorce after 30 years of marriage. From what I can tell both parties are -as usual- at fault. Now if this were just some random couple I could go on. But this couple made sacred promises to love each other for eternity. I know this is a foreign concept to most of the world, but in my religion we married FOR EV ER!

Even in a regular everyday wedding there is a promise in there somewhere about "until death do you part." right? Here's my difficulty: One party was away to long, the other party needed too much. One thing leads to another and they grew apart, leaving a gaping hole in which a third party was able to inappropriately comfort a member of this union. Now by inappropriate I am not suggesting anything other than conversation. But comforting conversation by a dear friend that leads to more intimacy than a couple currently share is inappropriate and will lead to destruction of one of the parties, if not as in this case, all three.

Next. One party files for divorce. The other party states that reconciliation has been offered and refused. "Too little too late" it seems is the excuse for them both. One party moves out and away from the situation and the divorce is proceeding.

My huge big fat ugly problem: In a U.S. civil union, "Until death do you part." is understood by most English speakers to mean that you are married until one of you is DEAD. No pulse, no heart beat or brain waves, cold, stone stiff, DEAD. Within our religion even the death will not severe the marriage and you are still indeed hitched. Best be careful whom you choose to stay with for eternity; or just a lifetime.

One party in this friendship of mine has begun dating another person. The other party is playing the martyr and "waiting until the divorce is final." - but already has committed to date a fourth party, who has shown interest and is willing to delve into this relationship as soon as "legally possible." UGH! I want to scream. (If there has been an agreement to date later, intimacy has already been established and the pretence of waiting seems moot.)

What are these people thinking? Even in the lowest possible legal sense they are still married to each other for at least a few more months. What happened to trying to forgive and compromise and make things work? 30 years down the tubes because someone has had it and is fed up. According to my knowledge the only abuse between the couple has been indifference and neglect. I don't think that is irreparable. It isn't easy by any means but isn't 30 years and 6 children worth ALL the trying until you get it right?

The outside parties make me sick. Why would anyone get in the middle of two married people? You have to be insane to do this. And why would anyone think of dating a divorced person so soon? Shouldn't there be some healing period or time to think? How about a year? I can hear people all over the place yelling at me and telling me all the reasons why it's o.k. But to me it just seems like everyone is asking to get into another bad situation before they have been able to clean up the last one and figure out why it went wrong. Everyone too busy feeling sorry for themselves and pointing their digits at the other person and never seeing what they did wrong to help speed up the destruction of their family.

I know. It's easy for me. I have been married to my high school sweetheart for the past 29 years. Think about that folks. Do you really think each and every moment of those 29 years has been rosie and that we were deliriously in love? Get real. 29 years takes more than love- it takes forgiveness, compassion, trust, commitment and hard freaking work at times. I thought that was what marriage was all about.

There are some actual deal breakers: Abuse that is mental, physical, or spiritual. From what they tell me, this isn't the case. And, as bad as the above are, I know of couples that have committed strong enough to even get through those. But not very often and I don't blame those who choose to leave dangerous situations. From what I have been told, none of these abuses happened. They just wandered apart and found other folks more interesting and didn't have the power to come back together.

I am so sad. I know of 4 more families that have fallen and it has affected more people than they will ever know.