Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Reading



Here is a fuzzy picture of wg2 reading. He knows the book well. He's heard it a thousand times. He sat off on his own, saying the story as he turned the pages. We tried to get video, but just missed it. Story of our lives, but a proud parent moment nonetheless.

Grandma D 7-31-08

Dad was out of town today and asked me to go and feed Grandma. When I got there she was upset. She had refused her breathing treatment and her medicine. Nurse Kim finally got her to do it. She explained to me that none of the staff could be trusted. She wasn't about to take anything unless she saw my Dad sign for it himself. They were trying to kill her.

I said, "Gran, you need to take your medicine if you want to get better."
"I don't want to get better, I just want to die."

It sounded like a foreign language to me. I said, let's get you outside and that's what we did.

She's emotional, she vascillates, her medicine has her all screwed up. I get that, but something my Dad said later on tonight felt a little weird. He told MA that he thought Grandma was starting to feel at home there. I don't know if anyone can say for sure, but the truth is Grandma is going to be there awhile and if she lives a long time, she'll likely be there a long while. Any way you slice it, I don't think I could muster enough confidence to say I thought she felt at home there.

I wonder if it's how he copes given that there doesn't seem to be an alternative and it must, must, must be painful to see his mother going through so much pain. Bad situations with seemingly no solutions drive us humans to wild pathologies. May God give us all strength.

Can't we all just get along?

wg2 picks up a stick. dg4 takes it from him and runs off.

"Dg4, did he have it first?"
"Yes."
"Then give it back."
"But I saw it first." I'm not sure where the rule comes from, but I'm sure I've used it.
"I don't care, give it back."
"But I saw it first."
"I don't care, give it back! And you know what you're going straight to bed. I'm tired of you picking on wg2 just because you can." It was actually his bedtime anyway. He didn't go to bed one minute early, but you would have thought he lost a leg.



Earlier, dg4 was in the back seat with wg2. dg4 was teasing wg2 and nh said wg2 went beserk trying to get out of the seat to pulverize his brother. And there dg4 was, just out of reach, laughing. I wish I could say I'd never done it.
This is all very normal I'm sure. I note it here just to say, we are here.

Challenges

dg4 is challenging us. wg2 is challenging us as well. But you know, so often I can't get past the feeling that we could do something about it. We could cut the trouble off at the pass.

nh runs the boys around. Swimming, movies, etc... They don't appreciate it, but can we really expect them to appreciate it? They're 2 and 4 after all.

nh did something really cool this evening. She wrote numbers in the bottom of an egg carton and made tons of snakes which dg4 cut out. He would then randomly pick a number and put the construction paper snakes into the cups until he reached the number in the cup. He loved the craft and learned at the same time. If we could work in more of this it might be better for us all.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Off Broadway

km17 got the lead in her first musical-Oklahoma. It's in a small theater, but it's the lead!!!! I can't wait to see it.

Kait auditioned at two schools. She wasn't able to get into either. I hope college is a wake-up call for her.

In high school she was the old Nora in the play, Nora's Lost. Her performance was amazing, captivating. She made the poor guy who played opposite her look like a chump. But there are other's like her, talented, that love theater. And when they come together from every high school in America the competition gets stiff.

I've heard her sing. I've seen her act. I believe in her. I believe she can live her dream. I just think the very second she believes she's got what it takes, she's done.

What a bunch of crap - a rant

A guy at work had an altercation with another employee. When we questioned his actions he explained that the principle reason is that he is a passionate person, that passion couldn't possibly be held against anyone, that it's a positive trait, that it helps him be better.

What it really is is an excuse to behave like a child, to introduce chaos where order is required, an excuse to act out their emotions instead of dispassionately, objectively approaching the problem in the most positive possible way.

"That's the way I am, I'm passionate." - Oh brother. Isn't there a name for it? Oh yes, I know -Arrested development. If you're an idiot just say so, don't hang it on a bad excuse.

Thought Surgery

I'm not putting off exercise. I'm really friggin sore. It takes it outta me. It makes me not want to write, but the thoughts rattle around in my brain until I get them out. Writing is thought surgery.

Winston

Two doors down from us Winston is building a house. They've dug up the foundation and it's made a pretty good hole and a pretty large pile. We went over to talk to Winston tonight.

The boys couldn't have been happier. They received permission to throw dirt clods to their hearts content; and they did. After we left the questions were interminable. Can we come back later? No. Can we come back tomorrow? Maybe. When can we come back? I don't know. Like I said, they couldn't have been happier.

Winston told us they found a well on the property 120' deep. I expressed surprise that it needed to be so deep. I explained a little of the history I know of the neighborhood. I told Winston our old church building used to have a pool fed from the Rillito before it ceased to run. They used to irrigate from the river.

He explained that his neighbor was from Argentina. I explained that my brother-in-law served a mission there.

Winston explained he was house sitting. He was irritated that his friend was too cheap to pay for garbage pick-up and he had to bring the garbage down from on high. He took the Lord's name in vain. He dislikes plants that aren't indigenous, it's just plain highbrow if you ask me; they're here whether you like it or not.

He's a saucy old fart. I think we'll get on just fine.

A story

Dina is the mother of Alex. Sylvia is the mother of Dina.

Once Alex and Dina's neighbor killed his dog. The police got very involved. They asked questions of all the neighbors. The investigation was thorough. The case needed to be solid.

When Alex died there was no investigation. The police did not ask questions. There were three heroine overdoses in the neighborhood recently. Alex had a needle mark in each arm. Weird. Dina is angry her daughter didn't merit the same investigation as a dog. She hires a private investigator, but it doesn't matter. He's a waste of money. She searches on her own and learns things, she sees neon signs confirming her suspicions, but nothing that would hold up in court.

Two months prior to her death this very pretty young Alex asked her grandmother if they could have dinner each Sunday as a family. Sylvia said, "Of course." The Sunday before her death Alex cancelled, she wasn't feeling well. She asked if they could get together the following Sunday. Sylvia said, "Of course."

Alex's boyfriend was a drug dealer. She dumped him. He said, "He'd get her." Maybe he did. Is that what they call motive? The night Alex died his father took him out of town. Weird. Does that make sense?

Dina is recovering from an infection. The doctor gave her a 12% chance of survival. We wanted to send her flowers, but Sylvia said we shouldn't. Since Alex's funeral Dina hates flowers.

Dina's fingers turned black as she lay dying. Sylvia says Dina bloated to incredible proportions during the whole ordeal. The dead black skin is peeling off of Dina's fingers now as the healing takes place. She's shedding. Her fingers are needly from being asleep too long, but Sylvia says good, the feeling is returning.

There is a fourth woman. Sylvia's mother. She makes incredible rice pudding. She's going blind. She's going deaf. Her hip aches, her hands ache. She's pissed she's still alive. She's had a good life. At 90 she asks, "What am I still doing here?" I'd like to know that too.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Charity

The other day nh took the boys to Bookman's for a little shopping. When they left she was approached by a guy we see in our neighborhood sometimes. He got nothing from just above the knees down. His hands are weathered like his green army jacket - a veteran.

nh opened the vehicle door to get the little ones in when he rolled over in his chair and asked for a sandwich. She looked in her wallet for cash, but only had a twenty so she offered to buy him a sandwich at a shop right there. He said, "Okay, just get it in a to-go bag and I'll meet you outside the sandwich shop."

nh unloaded the boys and walked to the shop. She waited in line, ordered the sandwich, paid, and waited for it to be done while entertaining the boys. When the sandwich was done she walked outside and couldn't see the guy anywhere so they walked back to the van. She asked a security guard if he'd seen the man and the security guard pointed across the street and said, "Yeah, there he is." The crippled beggar was getting onto the bus.

nh felt "crappy," that the man might have been dishonest with her. It could be that the man was run off by the security guard. It could be he wanted the money for rent, or electric, or medicine or booze. The truth is it doesn't matter. nh was called upon and answered the call. She was frustrated for some time after that. I was sorry she was frustrated, but I'm proud of her.

'ello Cap'n

Today nh and the kids took Pam to a free clinic where they presumably checked up on her two recent concussions. They waited an hour in the waiting room. The part of town wasn't good. The sign said NO WEAPONS ALLOWED. I don't remember seeing that sign at my doctor's office.

About 30 minutes into the waiting period wg2 walked up to a man at the checkout counter.

nh and dg4 were talking when nh heard wg2 asking, "Are you a pirate?" nh cringed. She didn't want to look up. What if the man had a peg leg or a patch over one eye or a treasure chest?

nh looks up. The man: mid 30's, fit, t-shirt, jeans (construction-esque), tattooed, long full hair covered by a do-rag, mustache and beard. Not mean looking, but tough looking. It could be the demeanor he uses with all two year olds. She interrupts, "Honey, how could he be a pirate, we're so far from the ocean?" The man replied, "No." And then added pointing to his motorcycle, "But that could be my boat in the parking lot."

nh lifted wg2 up to the window so he could see the "pirate's" motorcycle. I mean wouldn't a modern urban Cap'n Jack ride a motorcycle? wg2 said, "oh cool." wg2 then tried to convince his mom the man could be a pirate and that the ocean wasn't so far away.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Surprise Date

Grandma mm took the boys tonight. nh called me at work to say she was childless. I immediately got excited. We saw The Dark Knight. We also ate chicken Caesar pizza - yummy. The flick was okay, the food was good, the surprise from my mother-in-law was great.

I called the boys to say I missed them when I got home. dg4 asked when he was going to see us.
"Tomorrow."
"Is that right now?"
"No, it's after you wake up in the morning."
"But is that right now?"
"No son, it's in the morning when you wake up. You're staying the night at Grandma's house." And then before he can ask again I say, "I love you son. I miss you and I can' wait to see you tomorrow."
"Okay, I love you. Goodbye."

What is the deal with kids and time. I don't understand how they can have NO concept of time. I'll bet we've talked about it one million times. Sometimes kids have the memory of a gold fish.

Grandma mm only wanted to take one boy at a time, but the boys wanted to go together so she conceded and took them both. What a softie.

Thanks Mom.

A stranger in the night

I wake up. The clock says 1:11am. There is a man beside my bed. He's crying. He's two. It's wg2. I comfort him. I can't tell if he's crying because he's had a nightmare or because he's struggled to drag his "blank," the stuffed dog his mom just got him from Bookmans and his big pillow all the way from his room to our room in the dead of night. He accepts the comfort and calms after a few minutes.

We arrange his pillow on the ground carefully. We place his dog carefully. We cover him with his "blank" which gets harder and harder to do every month. He seems okay.

"I love you wg2." He sleeps.

It's 1:20am. He's up again. I don't know why.
"Can I sleep with you?"
"No buddy, mommy doesn't think it's a good idea. It's okay, I'm right here." He sleeps.
Mom has a rule, no kids sleeping in the bed with us. Period. I'm not sure why, but it's the rule. I consider lying on the ground with him. My bed persuades me otherwise. The ground is hard and unyielding.

It's 2:04am.
"There's piders and grathoppers down here. They're gonna get me." I hug him.
"Daddy put all of the spiders and grasshoppers outside. They're not going to get you buddy. Lay down now. It's okay." wg2 has become very interested in "piders" He can describe them all to you. The conversation always goes like this:

"There's a pider."
"Just leave it alone, it's okay."
"But it's a back widow pider." I'm not buying it. I don't move an inch.
"No it isn't. It's okay, just leave it alone."
"Yes it is. It has a black bottom and a red spot on it's tummy." Hmmm. They do look like that.
I get up from whatever I'm doing and look. The "pider" I see is inevitably so small as to be barely visible and nothing like a black widow spider. I crush it in one second and walk away.
Repeat 5 times each day.

It's sometime after 2:04 am and before 3:10 am. He's stopped asking. I feel him climbing up onto the bed. I quietly make room. It's not my rule after all. I pretend I don't notice. We share covers. He moves a lot and the clock says 3:10, 3:23, 3:55, 4:28. I contemplate just getting up. Eventually my alarm goes off. wg2 actually slept late. Lucky monkey.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Drama King

Last night as we left my younger sister's home dg4 asked if we were going to see his cousins (my older sister's kids) again.

I said, "No son, they are going back home tomorrow. It will be awhile before we see them."
"Can't they stay?"
"No they have to go home. They have things to do."
"Oh no! This can't be happening!" Then again sorrowfully. "This can't be happening."
"It's okay son. We'll see them again."
And then there was silence. And then at last sleep.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Sculpture

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." - Michelangelo

The Pieta by Michelangelo - My Favorite.
Michelangelo - Wikipedia

Excited

My oldest sister and her kids are coming over today. They've driven from Ohio to Arizona. I am excited to have them all here. I hope it will be a good day. Woohoo.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dropping out

Grandma D is not capable of progressing with her rehab. Her legs are strong enough to stand, but her brain can't get her back to straighten up. Still, she didn't seem bugged by it overmuch.

She makes strange request occasionally. Today she asked for her undergarment to be changed even though it had just been changed. She insisted. She was yelling down the hall for help. Yet she has the presence of mind to put me in my place when I tease my wife. First and middle name in "that" tone set me straight and she knows it. The whole thing is strange.

Dad is frustrated. He doesn't know how to get her across country to her home and she's not improving. He says he's not going to come every day to visit. He said she doesn't remember anyway. I don't think he knows what to do. Her ordeal is taking a lot out of him. I'm not sure it's possible for him to keep up the pace he's been setting. No one knows how Grandma D will fare.

KK comes tomorrow. She has a Master's degree in Occupational Therapy. Maybe she'll know what to do.

May God teach us all what we must do. May God give us all strength.

Another Son



I cannot get past the idea that I will have another son. It is a weird feeling, unfathomable, but it comes to me sometimes. Strong.

It first happened a couple of years ago. And recently it's pull on me grows. I can't parse out whether it's selfishness because nh has made it clear there will be no more children or if I should be prepping nh, working with her. I appreciate that she knows her limitations though, really. She's not built for 10 kids I can tell you that, but then again I'm not either.

The possibility of adoption keeps coming back to me. Primarily adoption comes to me because I feel very strongly that it is to be a boy and obviously I can't predict the sex of a child born naturally.

Having an infant to take care of might very well be the hardest thing nh and I have gone through together or as individuals. But still, the feeling keeps coming back to me. Strong, like a continental divide between me and where I'm going.

I am very grateful for the children I have. I don't need more to feel complete or happy or fulfilled. In fact I rather feel like it will be very difficult for nh and I. A difficult journey for our family. Yet, there it is.

Could it be km in college that leaves me afraid? Do I fear that I will be unfulfilled when the boys leave home many years from now? Do I want to hang on to fatherhood for a while longer? Is it inspiration? Where does it come from?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

dg4 improves quickly



Dg4 jumps off the board without a floatie of any kind and swims to the side. Wow. Just wow.


Notice the S on the trunks. The kid is four and man is he doing great. We also jumped in together. He does better on his own. I think that's what kids need most of the time, for their parents to get the heck out of the way.

Monday, July 14, 2008

A Parable

Once there was a boy who set out on a journey down from a mountain. As he began he noticed a snake freezing at the high altitude.

The snake spoke, "Please, I am dying. Will you please carry me down the mountain."
"But you are snake. If I pick you up you will bite me and I will die."
"I will not bite you," said the snake, "I give you my word."

So the boy took pity on the snake and though he picked him up he held him far from his body.

After a short time the snake pleaded, "It is too cold, will you please hold me close so that I may receive warmth from your body?"
"But you are a snake. If you bite me I will die."
"Please. I am suffering greatly. I give you my word I will not bite you."

So the boy took pity on the snake and held the snake close to his heavy coat.

Again after a short while the snake bemoaned his fate. "You have been very kind. You most likely have saved me from certain death, but the cold is like daggers all over my body. Your warm coat protects you, but gives me no warmth. Please tuck me inside your coat, bring me close and then I will ask no more."

The boy considered the snake's proposition. He had always been a good boy and strong. Surely God would protect him. The boy took pity on the snake and put him inside his coat for the long journey down. For several days they traveled through the cold and they were both relieved to feel the warmth as they neared the bottom of the high mountain.

The boy said, "Well snake, we are here, at the end of our journey and you are safe."
Just then the snake bit the boy and headed quickly to the brush. The boy cried out as he collapsed, "But you promised you would not bite me. I have saved your life."

The snake paused and turned. "You knew what I was when you picked me up. What did you expect?" And the snake slithered into the bushes. And the boy died.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Exercise

When I was 20 I was never sore after lifting weights. At 30 I felt if for two days. On Saturday my Sis and her family were over. This was 3 days after beginning weight lifting again. I could barely stand. They laughed at me and I admit walking was ridiculous. Heck, moving was ridiculous. It's day 5 and the pain is decreasing. No wonder Ponce de León looked so hard.

Nh is sore too. Last week she spent a session with a personal trainer. She wants to tone up. Aren't we a pair?

dg4 gets good

This is called the superman. The kid is getting good. On Saturday he ran and jumped off of the diving board with his life jacket on. He often asks that I let him hold onto my neck while I swim under water.

Inevitably wg2, who is nowhere as advanced as dg4 asks to do the same thing. I take him under a little and he pretends to like it. I realize it isn't a good time to continue. wg2 hangs around my neck and I swim above the water. It's all the same to him. Well, it's actually probably better.

Km was with us and nh took the pics. It was a good day.

My birthday party - July 11

We had my birthday at Grandma D's rehab facility since she can't leave. It was fun and true to form my family all came. I got a body pillow, because I joked once with Nh that I was going to steal hers, money, money, gift card for some shoes, money for a rock climbing date with nh, a redeemable coupon for child care during date night !!!! Wooohooo.

And gj made me some of her much coveted cookies. mmmmm. She wont' share the recipe, it's a big deal to her. My Dad joked that she should just put a little dough in with the chocolate chips. It made me laugh again as I thought about it later. I don't know why she guards the recipe so carefully. If she's not going into business who cares? No kidding though, the cookies are off the charts good.

Oh, and the cake? It's lemon, made by my bride. mmmmmm.

Jesus was born in a barn

I was reminded of this story the other day.

When I was a kid if we left the door open my family would ask me if I was born in a barn. I knew it meant I needed to shut the door. I always thought it was a great way to communicate that we are not heating the outside. dg4 broke me of the habit.

The door is left open by dg4.

Me: "Were you born in a barn?"
dg4: "No, but Jesus was."

I laughed out loud and shut the door myself. What a kid.

Poo Poo on the Potty

Today wg2 celebrated his second pee pee on the potty. Mommy and I celebrated too. We praised him and hugged him and kissed him and said what a big boy he was. I then extolled the virtues of poo poo on the potty as it relates to being a big boy. wg2 proceeded to explain to me that you have to make an angry face and squeeze to go poo poo. The picture is apparently his angry face.