The Weather Outside Is Frightful

The weather here has been as low as -14 with wind chill factored in.  I can't go outside without gloves on or else my nails break and my hands start to crack.  My lips are so chapped I have to re-apply a fresh layer of Mentholatum about every hour and my hair has so much static cling I want to wash it in fabric softener.  However, in an effort to find the good in things, I would like to share this quote:

“It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately.”

-A.A. Milne

Well played, Eeyore.  Well played.

Gerb Unplugged

(Actually, the bottom picture shows what I'm like when I get real mail for as long as I can remember.)

I remember well the anticipation of receiving the mail each day as a child, as a teenager, and even now as an adult.  I'm not talking about email or messages in your Facebook inbox.  I'm not talking about comments on your instagram pictures or return texts on your smart phone.  I'm talking about real letters, hand-written and stamped and sometimes even with cleverly decorated envelopes, delivered to your mailbox.  I still love to send these notes almost as much as I love to be on the receiving end.  It has always been amazing to me to think of how a letter which I held in my hands could be in a far-away place by the end of the week at the cost of one small stamp in its corner.  I used to even lovingly decorate the borders of each envelope, hoping that just the sight of it in the receiver's mailbox would bring a smile.

I remember when the only way to communicate with someone quickly was by phone or a face-to-face visit.  There was no email, facebook, texting, tweeting, instagram or whatever new 'thing' I haven't heard of yet to communicate with a person without any real interaction.  I remember when the only way to share pictures with someone else was to carry them in your wallet or purse, or to mail them off to friends and family.  I remember when I used to get phone calls from people who were not trying to sell me anything.  I remember when a boy wanted to ask a girl out on a date and he had to either do it in person or suffer the agony of possibly having to speak with one of her parents when he called her home phone.  Ah, the good old days.

I know what some of you are thinking right now.  Blah, blah, blah, it's another GerbRant about technology. *yawn*  Big whoop. 

Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that technology is a bad thing.  I just worry about what my kids are missing out on.  I worry about what I am missing out on, now that we are all so completely electronically connected.  What kind of communication skills are my kids lacking?  What is happening to their writing skills when things like LOL and abbreviated phrases like CUL8R are used often?  (I actually made that last thing up.  I'm not at all fluent in abbreviatedwords-ese.)  I love words.  I love the nuances of each person's penmanship.  But I most especially love my kids and I love my interactions with them which, regrettably, are not what they could be due to the T.V., computers and other electronic devices in our home.

The same goes with my extended family and friends.  The only way I communicate with most of them is on Facebook or by email.

This is what I see everywhere I go: people more connected to their electronic devices than the living, breathing people around them.  (Thanks for sharing the link with me, Sarah!)




Okay, here's what I'm getting at.  I control my own life.  I am the boss of me.  As such, I'm cutting waaaaay back.  I'm fasting from Facebook for a while and limiting my time on the internet.  Some days I may not even log on at all.  I'm going back to the way things were, to see if it's really as wonderful as I remember.  I'm going to sew more and read books more and sit and play trains and robots with my little boys more.  I'm going to write more stories and have more personal study and make time to practice my accordion.  I'm going to call people instead of emailing them. 

And here's the other thing - I want to spread some of my favorite kind of old-fashioned happiness in the form of real, actual, handwritten mail.  I want to send more letters, cards and postcards, just like I used to love doing.  I will put a colorful stamp in the corner of each and send them off, to bring smiles as people find something besides another bill in their mailboxes.  The world needs more happy mail!  More notes of encouragement and support!  And as of next Monday, that's going to start happening, from my mailbox to yours. 

This is where you come in.  Do you miss that excitement that comes with the anticipation of a happy note in your mailbox?  Have you never felt what I am describing?  Well, let's do something about it.  If you send me an address I will physically mail some hand-written happy and encouraging words and thoughts to you.

If you're interested, you can send your address to:

gerbdonna AT gmail DOT com

I can't wait to get back to basics around here.  And I can't wait to send some sunshine to your mailbox! 

If You Give A 2-Year-Old An Etch-a-Sketch...

...he'll probably want to hit you in the eye with it.

Quick Quips

Little O: Mom, can you take your head off?
Me: Nope.
Little O: Weird.  Me either.


Little O: This book is full of pages!
Me: Most books are.
Little O: Are you trying to ruin my life or something?


Little O: I had some good dreams last night!
Me: Oh, yeah?  About what?
Little O: It was called 'Going For A Walk Means Mom Pulls Me In My Wagon But She's The Only One Who Is Walking Pcuz I Am Riding In My Wagon.'


Little O: Is my new coat a boily coat?
Me: I don't think so.
Little O: Okay.
(10 minutes later, wearing Hubba's coat)
Little O: Is this a boily coat?
Me: I don't think so.
Little O: UGH! Okay.
Me: Maybe it is.  I'm not sure what boily means.  Do you mean it makes you boiling hot?
Little O: (exasperated sigh) NO, MOM!  It means it's a BOILY COAT!
Me: Okay...
(5 minutes later, carrying Curly's coat)
Little O: See this coat mom?
Me: Yes, It's Curly's.
Little O: But it's a GIRLY coat.  I want my coat to be BOYLY.
Me: Okay, now I get it.  Then yes, your coat is boyly.
Little O: FINALLY!

Life Is Good

Happy New Year!  Can you believe it's already 2013? 

This year was filled with all sorts of awesome things and all kinds of difficult, challenging things, too.  When I sat down to try and write our annual Christmas letter this year, the hard times kept pushing the good things out of the way and the task became overwhelming and emotional for me.  I finally decided not to include a letter this time around.

I'm sure I don't need to point out that the greatest, most challenging and heart-wrenching thing I had to face was the unexpected death of my close friend, Jason.  I've had to cope with the reality that he is no longer here every day since he left us.  And I've learned that the best way for me to deal with it is to remember the best things about him and to allow myself to smile.   

My oldest boy left on his 2 year mission for our church this year.  I don't get to see him again until the summer of 2014 - and although I wouldn't give up what he is learning and doing and becoming in those two years, I am still his mother and I miss him.  Talking to him on the phone Christmas morning was... well, just awesome.  His voice, infused with his typical enthusiasm, brought a smile to my face and set the tone for the rest of the day.

I could go on, but that's not my point.

The reality is, life's not perfect.  Not for anyone.  However, I think that looking for the good and learning to smile through the tough times offers some great opportunities for personal growth.  I love this quote by Jenkins Lloyd Jones:

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. Most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.  Life is like an old-time rail journey — delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."

Politics, health, world events, all sorts of things have taken me on an emotional roller coaster this year.  But when my emotions threaten to overtake me, I try to remember the good things that cause me to smile.  Things like Allen the Younger's missionary service and the blessings that come to our family because of this.  ElemenoB's immediate decision to serve a mission in January 2014 after a change in age requirements for missionaries was announced.  Thumbelina's first date.  All-a-Boy getting cast in the school musical.  Cowgirl's ability to reach out to those in need.  Princess' new-found love for skiing.  Hubba's decision to be baptized as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Curly's love for numbers and kindergarten.  Little O's desire to spontaneously dance and sing at any given time.  Baby X's sweet hugs and new words.  Allen's beyond awesome place of employment.  And as for me?  I got to enjoy the ride of it all.  Oh, yeah - I also saw NEWSIES.  In NEW YORK.  Both of which I loved in indescribable ways.  

I'm not one who usually chooses a Word Of The Year or anything like that, but I think this year I am going to make a real effort to find the good in the world, in my community, in my life, in my circumstances.  I want to seek out uplifting and positive things and remember all the reasons I have to be happy.  



Every day I will find reasons to smile and remember that my life is pretty darn good.

Veggie Tales

One of our neighbors gave us a whole bunch of butternut squash from his garden.  I left the bounty on my kitchen counter and one day found them like this:

I love having teenagers.  They keep life interesting.

Errors Around Town

I don't know why it makes me so happy to find these, but it really does.  It's like I'm a part of some secret club or something.

I wonder how many people have noticed this at the Neurologist's office.  Maybe it's some sort of test?

More fodder from our local dollar store.  "Faith is inspiration for the uture".

One of my kids brought this home from school.  No pancakes for me, thanks.

 Only one YOUNG WOMAN can attend, so choose your favorite.

 

Made in China?

And as proof that I am well-known for my odd pastime, a friend sent me this find from a lesson at church:

I appreciate her sacaficing her time to snap a secret picture for me.  

(Hey!  I AM in some kind of secret club!)

And my oldest boy also sent me this picture from his mission in Texas with the following note:

 "This is in the ads that come every week...So, this one's for you, Grammar Queen!"

Grammar Queen.  Hmmmm.  I could get used to that.

Scary Christmas

I was Christmas shopping in Salt Lake City when I came across this.  You couldn't get me within 10 feet of that bin!  Because we all know that toys come to life when we're not looking, and I'm pretty sure that bear jumped in there when he thought the coast was clear.  But I caught you leering at me, Lotso.  I think it's clear that he's waiting for some poor, unsuspecting Christmas shopper to come along and reach into the bin for another 'favorite plush character' and he's going to show them who's boss.

Born To Be A Scout

 

I got a phone call right in the middle of one of my rare meetings in Salt Lake City.  Since the kids are under strict instruction not to call unless there is something major needing my intervention or assistance, I stepped into the hall to answer it.

"Mom?" said Hubba's trembling voice.  "We got a phone call from mydenleadersandthey......" Followed by uncontrollable sobbing.

I didn't really understand what he said.  I only understood that he was upset and inconsolable.  "Hubba, is everything okay?  What happened?  You need to slow down and take a deep breath.  I can't understand you very well."

He barely gasped in a weak attempt at a deep breath, resumed crying and told me his sad, sad tale.

"Mom, one of my den leaders called and they are sick or something and so they (SOB! SOB!) CANCELLED SCOUTS TONIGHT!  So we don't have a den meeting and we don't have scouts and I have to miss out on scouts this week (SOB! SOB!) even though I put my bobcat patch on myself since you forgot to sew it on and I pinned it on instead (SOB! SOB!) with the pin they gave me with it that is supposed to be for you but it was still on the card and I used it because we're supposed to have our patches on the uniform!"

(This kid is seriously a genius. Why haven't I ever thought of doing this?)

I took advantage of his pause in the stream of words for a breath to tell him that it would be okay to miss a week of scouts.  Just one week.  His den leaders didn't get sick on purpose.  They probably needed to cancel so none of the boys would get sick, too.

"BUT MOOOOOOOOM!" he continued. "We are supposed to meet every week and pass off our requirements and I've had my uniform on since I got home from school, even my hat, even my neckerchief, and I didn't get them dirty at all (SOB! SOB!) and then they got sick and we don't have scouts tonight and..."

Long story short, I was able to talk one of his siblings into working on some requirements with him at home.  This appeased him, but barely. 

I walked back into my meeting with a smile on my face - because Hubba's phone call totally made my day.  When this kid does something, it is never done half way.  Every week at church he gets excited to see his Den Leader and remind her of the day and time they will be meeting that week, as if she would forget.  He sometimes wears his complete uniform on random days, down to the socks and belt, just because it makes him happy. 

It makes me happy to see how much my boy loves being a Cub Scout.

Whole-Hearted

photo from here

I went in for my TEE test yesterday.  They gave me some milk-of-amnesia kind of sedation, took some good pictures of my heart and found... nothing.  I mean, I have a heart!  But it's healthy.  As in: there is no hole!

Yes, you read that right.  I do not have a hole in my heart.  A couple of weeks ago they found one.  But yesterday it wasn't there anymore.  How do you explain this strange phenomenon?  Perhaps the initial bubble study they did was misleading?  I don't know.  All I know is that I have a healthy heart and one less worry.  If this is the work of a miracle that has occurred due to your prayers and positive thoughts on my behalf, I am indescribably grateful!  Whatever the reason, I do not have a hole in my heart and I am breathing a huge sigh of relief at this news.

So, now I'm back to square one.  What caused the stroke-like symptoms a couple of weeks back if my heart is fine?  I will be visiting a neurologist next week in hopes that we can figure it out.

Until then, thank you so much for your love and concern.  It means the world to me that I have such awesome friends and family.  Thank you for the phone calls, the emails, the comments, the prayers and worrying and good karma and everything.

Seriously, THANK YOU.

Bless My Heart

I debated whether or not to write about this, but this is where I keep a record of what goes on in my life.  So here it goes.

I do not enjoy having experiences that serve as a reminder of my mortality. 

Take last Tuesday, for instance.  I was lounging on a beanbag in the front room, enjoying a movie with the family before bedtime.  At some point I noticed that my ear felt funny.  I reached back and touched it, fascinated by the lack of feeling in my right ear compared to my left.  I tested my hearing by plugging each ear.  It was fine.  The outside of my right ear was just numb.  Weird.  I figured I must have been laying on it funny and turned my attention back to the movie.  After a while my right arm started to feel tingly so I changed positions and shook it out.  I realized that my ear was still numb and that my jaw was a little numb as well.  My arm went from tingly to... I don't know.  Not numb, just weak.  I stood up and walked into the other room and realized my right leg also felt weak.

I continued pacing around the room, exploring these awkward sensations on my right side, when I remembered that something like this happens to people who are having a stroke.  Don't freak out, I told myself.  You're fine, this will pass.  I didn't want to scare anyone.  I kept it to myself, waiting for the feelings to pass.  They didn't.

When Allen and I went to bed I casually mentioned what was going on.  "But I'm fine," I told him.  "I can talk fine and my face isn't drooping and I can comprehend everything."  He asked me a whole barrage of questions and asked if I thought I should go to the emergency room.  "I'm just tired," I answered.  "Let's see how I am in the morning."

Allen got online and googled my symptoms.  He thought I might be having what is called a TIA, or transient ischemic attack, something like a mini-stroke.  I insisted that I felt totally fine except for the weakness and that I just needed to sleep.  So that's what I did.

In the morning my arm was still a little weak but all other symptoms had disappeared.  I called my OB/GYN office and asked the secretary and nurse for recommendations for a good regular doctor and they gave me a few names.  "So, are you sick with the flu or a bad cold or what?" the secretary asked.  I described my symptoms from the night before, emphasizing that I felt fine now, and she said, "Don't call a doctor.  You need to at least get to the Instacare.  Like, right now.  And the nurse here is nodding her head, too, saying you need to be seen today.  Like, NOW."

Because it was the day before Thanksgiving, Allen was home.  I told him what they said and he told me to get going.  It was so strange to be driving myself to the Instacare, feeling perfectly fine.  I got there about 15 minutes before they opened and sat outside their inner door waiting for someone to arrive.  I told the woman at the front desk what my symptoms were, she went back and spoke with the doctor on call, and he came into the waiting room to talk to me.  "You need to just go right over to the ER," he said.  "They'll probably put you at the front of the line."  "But I feel fine right now..." I started to argue.  "Better safe than sorry," he answered.  "You don't want to mess with this kind of thing.  It could be a sign of something much more serious."  They graciously erased my visit from their computer so we/our insurance wouldn't be charged for it and I headed around the block to the ER.

He was right, I was immediately admitted and put through a whole barrage of tests.  Seriously, every test you can imagine, I am pretty sure I had done on me.  Four blood draws for blood work.  An EKG, chest x-ray, CT scan, and MRI.  Everything came back looking good.  The doctor on call as well as a neurologist came and conducted some strength and touch tests.  All good.  My final test was an echo ultrasound of my heart - with bubbles.  This was where they discovered a hole.  Apparently this hole is likely a PFO or Patent Foramen Ovale.  It is something we all have when we are in utero but it usually closes itself after birth.  Some people have them their whole lives and never know.  Then some people have weird things happen (like me) and find the hole in their heart that way. 

The other possibility is that the hole is an ASD or Atrial Septal Defect.  I will need to have another test (called TEE) done next week to see if this is the case, and to find how large the hole is regardless of which kind it ends up being.  The TEE gives a clearer picture of the heart since a typical echo ultrasound has to see around the ribcage.

Because Thanksgiving was the next day the doctors allowed me to go home rather than admit me to the hospital and keep me under observation for a couple of days.  The neurologist made sure to emphasize that if I had ANY symptoms again I needed to come immediately to the ER.  "You don't mess around with this!" she reprimanded me.  "No questioning.  Just come in!"

So here I am, a mortal being, a little bit nervous and a little bit scared and a huge bit hopeful that this will be no big deal. 

Moustached for Movember

This year Allen's company decided to join in with others all over the world in raising awareness throughout the month of November... er, MOvember.  They start things off clean-shaven:
 

and keep their moustaches growing throughout the month.

I can't even begin to tell you how thrilled Allen is to be sporting a moustache.  You can sense his excitement in the look on his face here:

I asked Allen why he was doing this if it drove him nearly insane to have an itchy lip for a month.  That was when I learned it was more than just a contest to see who could grow the most stache-tastic fuzzy upper lip.  They grow these bad boys in order to raise awareness around the often ignored issue of men’s health.  They raise funds by seeking out sponsorship in their moustache-growing efforts.  The funds raised here in the US support prostate cancer and testicular cancer initiatives.

Allen has not asked for any sponsors, or even any donations.  This is where I come in.  While the growing of a moustache may be limited to Allen's ability (for which I am entirely thankful!) I can still do my part by supporting his efforts and helping to raise funds and awareness.

Regardless of whether you think his moustache is awesome looking or if you prefer the clean-shaven look, would you consider donating to a great cause?  There are not many things I have a deep hatred for, but cancer is one of the few.  Every dollar helps to further research, change established habits and attitudes men have about their health, educate men about the health risks they face, and to act on that knowledge, which increases the chances of early detection, diagnosis and treatment.

All you have to do is click on THIS LINK to donate to Allen's fundraising efforts.

Every dollar makes a difference.  Thank you!

Like Father, Like Son

"Mom, why are you taking my picture?"

"Because you're reading a book on HTML for fun!"

"It's actually really interesting."

No biggie.

Just a bit of light reading to relax and unwind at the end of a hard day.

Play With Your Food

Some days my kids are sick of sandwiches and quesadillas.  On those days I make them play with their food.  It's a simple concept, and one that I love.  I cut up a variety of fruits and veggies and put them in bowls.  I throw in a bowl of fish crackers, some almonds, maybe some cheese and a bowl of ranch.  Then they go crazy and create something on their plate.

It can be anything they want.  The only rule is that any food that goes on their plate must be eaten.  It's a great way to get them excited about eating their fruits and veggies.

This day we had a few variations of Pacman.

(Pacman under water, in case you were wondering.)

Sometimes I'm not sure what they've made but they get really excited about it, eat what's on the plate, then start again.

Some kind of Pokemon, I think. They sang a song about it.

 ("It's obviously a crying man, Mom.")

We had a Star Wars theme going on for a little while (of course we did).

(Something about invasion of the Death Star and a Tie Fighter)

 (Tie Fighter)

It's fun to see some of the things they come up with.

(Little Mermaid)

 (A fruit tree)

 Then they start getting really creative...

 

 (That's exactly what you think it is.  ElemenoB refused to be in the picture, but this creation is all her doing.)

("A man falling off of a cliff onto sharp rocks")

(A rather violent scene created by my sweet, non-violent Thumbelina)

Before we know it the bowls are empty, their bellies are full, and lunch is deemed a success.