Friday

Today was a fairly quiet day. Mom took all of us to see Narnia, which was fun (even the second time), then we swung by Target for some odds n' ends, and then home for some prime rib. Yep, you read that right: my mom cooked a prime rib for us. Along with it were some roasted veggies (asparagus and squash), some baked sweet potatoes, and a few other delicious items. WOW -- is all I can say.

Tomorrow morning is going to come early... and I'm planning on being on the road again as early as we can all get up and get around. I doubt there'll be any roadblogging, so you'll just have to catch the Sunday evening roundup when I blog it. I'll try to catch some grassfire pix to blog about, and whatever else I can catch on camera.

The nannies bleat in 3... 2... 1...

How long before some brilliant person suggests banning alcohol from airline flights altogether?

Drunk passenger gets dumped on island

A drunken air passenger was cast away on an island more than 1,000 miles from home after abusing cabin staff.

The unidentified man swore at crew and passengers after being refused a bottle of wine on the four-hour flight from Manchester to Tenerife.

He became so abusive the fed-up pilot diverted the Monarch Airlines Airbus to Porto Santo island off West Africa.

After the plane touched down, the man was marched off by police and had his luggage dumped on the tarmac.

The plane and its remaining passengers then took off again for Tenerife, where it landed almost four hours late after the unscheduled stop.

It is not known if police on the island, which is under Portuguese authority, charged or released him.

The Atlantic island, which is 10 miles long and three miles wide, is a two-hour ferry journey to Madeira.

Monarch Airlines said the passenger did not appear drunk to crew when he boarded flight ZB558 from Manchester at 1615 on Tuesday.

The crew tried to pacify the man but his behaviour got worse and the pilot decided to land and force him off.

A Monarch Airlines spokeswoman confirmed the man, who they would not name, was thrown off the flight for "abusive and disruptive" behaviour.

"Despite repeated attempts by Monarch Scheduled staff to calm the individual, the passenger's behaviour did not improve and the decision was taken to divert to Porto Santo.

"The action was taken in the interests of all the passengers. That sort of behaviour is not acceptable.

"He was the given the chance to calm down and he declined it. He was given a form, a caution for his behaviour, and he refused to sign it."

Why not just arm all flight attendants with tranquilizer darts?

(h/t FARK)

Wildfires

More Grass Fires Flare in Oklahoma

I can attest to this. We saw innumerable grass fires and lots and lots of blackened acres. The kids didn't care for the smell, either... and it was pretty much a constant aroma once we were some distance south of Oklahoma City.

Mom says it's horribly dry and that it hasn't rained at all since March. This would be a really, really bad time to toss out your ciggy or light up a bottle-rocket. The whole place is a gigantic tinderbox.

It was too dark for pictures on the way down here, but I'll snap a few pix of the damage on the way back on Saturday morning.

The Gospel of Fazoli's

Internet Monk speaks.

If you're not listening, it's your loss.

Fossil-hunting

Today we drove up to my parents' cabin on Lake Texoma in southern Oklahoma. My grandparents and my cousins met us there and we went fossil-hunting along the lakeshore in Kingston, Oklahoma. Here's what we found:







Cool, huh? According to the Smithsonian, these particular creatures can only be found here and in one other place in the US. I don't know what they're called, but they look a lot like nautilus shells when you find them whole.

UPDATE: BlogDog asks if they're Ammonites and I believe that to be correct. I knew I could count on one of my brilliant readers to help me out.

We also found a few other kinds; here's an example:



This one looks like an ordinary seashell to me. They say that this whole area was covered by an ocean at one time. There's definitely a lot of limestone, and right now is a great time to fossil-hunt because the lake-level is extremely low (no rain at all here since March) and lots of places are uncovered that are usually underwater.

All the kids had a great time; Erica and Martha found a few fossils for themselves, I think. I had a great time, too, but the hike and the drive have left me weary. I shall sleep well tonight, that's what.

I am SO not ready to start back to school

Thank goodness it's not until next Wednesday... I slept 'til nearly noon today. Nevermind that I'd just spent the previous day driving for eleven hours.

Today was pretty much just relaxing and a little shopping. Just my kind of day. Although I did try to get in touch with Rick's sister in Garland and I found out that she and her husband are BOTH in the hospital with some nasty viral infection. They are both senior citizen retiree types; he is in rather poor health anyway, and she probably got run down just trying to take care of him. I wish we lived closer so I could check on them more regularly; thank goodness their best friends (another older couple) are taking care of them and making sure they've got what they need.

I also found out that my own dear husband has come down with something nasty; I'm glad we're not there, to be honest, because I don't want any of the rest of us to catch it. He's fairly capable of caring for himself, although he sounded terrible on the phone and I called Jeff's wife Linda and asked her if she'd call him tomorrow evening to make sure he had everything he needed.

Tomorrow we're planning to visit my parents' lake cabin at Texoma and meet up with my grandparents. Erica seems to be enjoying her visit so far; she keeps Martha well occupied and out of Isaac & Alice's hair. Speaking of Isaac & Alice's hair, I treated for cooties again today and did the nitpicking routine out in the backyard afterward. Dang bugs. I want the durn things GONE, for Pete's sake! What's a mom gotta DO to get rid of the wretched vermin anyway? Don't answer that; I have no intention of using flamethrowers or Molotov cocktails... but don't think it hasn't crossed my mind.

My readings on the matter of cootie-killin' have surprised me. The American Academy of Pediatrics actually discourages the no-nit policy that I've always seen at schools and daycare facilities. Their head-lice policy statement reads thusly:

Head lice (Pediculosis capitis) infestation is common in the United States among children 3 to 12 years of age; approximately 6 to 12 million have infestations each year. Head lice are not a health hazard or a sign of uncleanliness and are not responsible for the spread of any disease. The most common symptom is itching. Individuals with head lice infestation may scratch the scalp to alleviate itching, and there rarely may be secondary bacterial skin infection. Head lice are the cause of much embarrassment and misunderstanding, many unnecessary days lost from school and work, and millions of dollars spent on remedies.

The adult louse is 2 to 3 mm long (the size of a sesame seed) and usually pale gray, although color may vary. The female lives up to 3 to 4 weeks and lays approximately 10 eggs, or nits, a day. These tiny eggs are firmly attached to the hair shaft close to the scalp with a glue-like substance produced by the louse. Viable nits camouflaged with pigment to match the hair color of the infested person are most easily seen at the posterior hairline. Empty nit casings are easier to see, appearing white against darker hair. The eggs are incubated by body heat and hatch in 10 to 14 days. Once the eggs hatch, nymphs leave the shell casing, grow for about 9 to 12 days, and mate, and then females lay eggs. If not treated, this cycle may repeat itself every 3 weeks. While the louse is living on the head, it feeds by injecting small amounts of saliva and taking tiny amounts of blood from the scalp every few hours. This saliva may create an itchy irritation. With a first case of head lice, itching may not develop for 4 to 6 weeks, because it takes time to develop a sensitivity to louse saliva. Head lice usually survive for less than 1 day away from the scalp at normal room temperature, and their eggs cannot hatch at an ambient temperature lower than that near the scalp.

Head lice, unlike body lice, do not transmit any disease agents. Itching may develop in a sensitized individual. Rarely, an individual may develop impetigo and local adenopathy from scratching.

Head lice are most common in children 3 to 12 years of age. All socioeconomic groups are affected. Infestations in the United States are less common in blacks than in individuals of other races, most likely because blacks have oval-shaped hair shafts that are harder for lice to grasp. Head lice in Africa have adapted claws for grasping this type of hair. Head lice infestation is not significantly influenced by hair length or by frequent brushing or shampooing. However, in the United States, where daily brushing is routine, infested individuals rarely have more than a dozen live lice, whereas individuals in cultures with different grooming practices often have a hundred or more live lice. Lice cannot hop or fly; they crawl. Transmission in most cases occurs by direct contact with the head of another infested individual. Indirect spread through contact with personal belongings of an infested individual (combs, brushes, hats) is much less likely but cannot be excluded. Lice found on combs are likely to be injured or dead, and a healthy louse is not likely to leave a healthy head.

The gold standard for diagnosing head lice is finding a live louse on the head. This can be difficult, because the louse can crawl 6 to 30 cm per minute. The tiny eggs, or nits, may be easier to spot, especially at the nape of the neck or behind the ears, within 1 cm of the scalp. It is important not to confuse nits with dandruff, hair casts, or other hair debris; nits are more difficult to remove because they are "glued" on. It is also important not to confuse live nits with dead or empty egg cases. Among presumed "lice" and "nits" submitted by physicians, nurses, teachers, and parents to a laboratory for identification, many were found to be artifacts such as dandruff, hairspray droplets, scabs, dirt, or other insects (eg, aphids blown by the wind and caught in the hair). In general, nits found more than 1 cm from the scalp are unlikely to be viable, but some researchers in warmer climates have found viable nits farther from the scalp. A viable nit will develop an "eye spot" evident on microscopic examination several days after being laid.

It is probably impossible to totally prevent head lice infestations. Young children come into close head-to-head contact with each other frequently. It is prudent for children to be taught not to share personal items such as combs, brushes, and hats. In environments where children are together, adults should be aware of the signs and symptoms of head lice infestation, and affected children should be treated promptly to minimize spread to others.

The use of "Nix" brand seems to be the preferred method of OTC head lice treatment. It contains a synthetic pyrethroid, permethrin, which seems to do a little bit better job than just plain pyrethrin products. The prescription stuff like Lindane and Ovide are very effective but are much more toxic to humans.

More from the AAP's head-lice policy:

If an index case is identified, all household members should be checked for head lice, and only those with live lice or nits within 1 cm of the scalp should be treated. It is prudent to treat family members who share a bed with the person with infestation, even if no live lice are found. Fomite transmission is less likely than transmission by head-to-head contact; however, it is prudent to clean hair care items and bedding of the individual with infestation. Only other items, clothing, furniture, or carpeting that have been in contact with the head of the person with infestation in the 24 to 48 hours before treatment should be considered for cleaning, given the fact that louse survival off the scalp beyond 48 hours is extremely unlikely. Washing, soaking, or drying items at temperatures greater than 130°F will kill stray lice or nits. Furniture, carpeting, car seats, and other fabrics or fabric-covered items can be vacuumed. Pediculicide spray should not be used, because exposure cannot be controlled. Nits are unlikely to incubate and hatch at room temperatures; if they did, the nymphs would need to find a source of blood for feeding within hours of hatching. Although it is rarely necessary, items that cannot be washed can be bagged in plastic for 2 weeks, by which time any nits that may have survived would have hatched, and nymphs would die without a source for feeding. Herculean cleaning measures are not beneficial. [emphasis mine! wahoo!]

Screening for nits alone is not an accurate way of predicting which children will become infested, and screening for live lice has not been proven to have a significant effect on the incidence of head lice in a school community over time. In addition, such screening has not been shown to be cost-effective. In a prospective study of 1729 school children screened for head lice, only 31% of the 91 children with nits had concomitant lice. Only 18% of those with nits alone converted to an active infestation over 14 days of observation. Although those children having greater than or equal to 5 nits within 1 cm of the scalp were significantly more likely to develop an infestation than those with fewer nits (32% vs 7%), still only 1/3 of these higher-risk children converted. Furthermore, school exclusion of children with nits alone would have resulted in many children missing school unnecessarily in this study population. Several descriptive studies suggest that education of parents in diagnosing and managing head lice may be helpful. Because of the lack of evidence of efficacy, classroom or school-wide screening should be strongly discouraged.

It would be prudent to periodically provide information to families of all children on the diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of head lice. Parents should be encouraged to check their children's heads for lice if the child is symptomatic; school screenings do not take the place of these more careful checks. It may be helpful for the school nurse or other trained persons to check a student's head if he or she is demonstrating symptoms.

Management on the Day of Diagnosis
Because a child with an active head lice infestation has likely had the infestation for a month or more by the time it is discovered, poses little risk to others, and does not have a resulting health problem, he or she should remain in class but be discouraged from close direct head contact with others. If a child is assessed as having head lice, confidentiality must be maintained so the child is not embarrassed. The child's parent or guardian should be notified that day by telephone or a note sent home with the child at the end of the school day stating that prompt, proper treatment of this condition is in the best interest of the child and his or her classmates. Common sense should prevail when deciding how "contagious" an individual child may be (a child with hundreds versus a child with 2 live lice). It may be prudent to check other children who were most likely to have had direct head-to-head contact with the index child. In an elementary school, often the most efficient way to deal with the problem is to notify the parents or guardians of all children in the index child's classroom, encouraging that all children be checked at home and treated if appropriate before returning to school the next day.

Criteria for Return to School
A child should be allowed to return to school after proper treatment. Some schools have had "no nit" policies under which a child was not allowed to return to school until all nits were removed. The American Academy of Pediatrics and the National Association of School Nurses discourage such policies. However, nit removal at the time of treatment by the parent or guardian may be considered for the following reasons:

--Nit removal may decrease diagnostic confusion.

--Nit removal may decrease the possibility of unnecessary retreatment.

Some experts recommend removal of nits within 1 cm of the scalp to decrease the small risk of self-reinfestation.

The school nurse, if present, can perform a valuable service by rechecking a child's head if requested to do so by a parent. In addition, the school nurse can offer extra help to families of children who are repeatedly or chronically infested. In rare instances, it may be helpful to make home visits or involve public health nurses to ensure that treatment is being conducted effectively. No child should be allowed to miss valuable school time because of head lice. Numerous anecdotal reports exist of children missing weeks of school and even being forced to repeat a grade because of head lice.

Reassurance of Parents, Teachers, and Classmates
The school can be most helpful by making available accurate information on diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of head lice to the entire school community in an understandable form. Information sheets in different languages and visual aids for families with limited language skills should be developed by schools and/or local health departments. If pediatricians and schools take the lead in reacting in a calm manner, parents will be able to focus on appropriate treatment without getting unduly upset.

Child Care and "Sleep Over" Camps
Little information is available on the incidence and control of head lice outside of the school-aged population and outside of school. Because head lice are most readily transmitted by direct head-to-head contact, child care centers and camps where children share sleeping quarters may allow for easier spread. Therefore, it may be prudent to establish stricter criteria than in the school-based setting for identifying and treating others in these special settings once an index case is identified.

SUMMARY POINTS

1. Pediatricians should be knowledgeable about head lice infestations and treatments and should be available as information resources for families, schools, and other community agencies.

2. School personnel involved in detection of head lice infestation should be appropriately trained. The importance and difficulty of correctly diagnosing an active head lice infestation should be acknowledged. Schools should examine any lice related policies they may have with this in mind.

3. Permethrin 1% (Nix) is currently the recommended treatment for head lice, with retreatment in 7 to 10 days if live lice are seen. Instructions on proper use of products should be carefully relayed. Safety and efficacy should be taken into account when recommending any product for treatment of head lice infestation.

4. None of the currently available pediculicides are 100% ovicidal and resistance has been reported with lindane, pyrethrins, and permethrin. Treatment failure does not equate with resistance, and most instances of such failure represent misdiagnosis/misidentification or noncompliance with the treatment regimen.

5. Head lice screening programs have not been proven to have a significant effect on the incidence of head lice in the school setting over time and are not cost-effective. Parent education programs may be helpful in the management of head lice in the school setting.

6. Manual removal of nits after treatment with a pediculicide is not necessary to prevent spread. In the school setting, removal may be considered to decrease diagnostic confusion.

7. No healthy child should be excluded from or allowed to miss school time because of head lice. "No nit" policies for return to school should be discouraged.

I just knew you'd find all that interesting.

And eleven hours later...

We arrived at my parents' home in Denton at 10PM and the kids immediately went berserk over the PRESENTS waiting for them here. Among the many: Isaac got a RC Batmobile... Erica got a digital camera... Martha got a Gameboy... Alice got a Leapster... and I got to open a video iPod!! Wahoo!!

Now I'm sitting in my bedroom upstairs, blogging, WITH THE WINDOW OPEN AND THE CEILING FAN ON. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. I think he must live in Texas.

And speaking of states, I don't mean to belittle all the Kansans who might perchance be reading my humble blog, but the view of you guys' state from I-35 leaves, well, much to be desired. I kept wondering for what purpose Kansas was created in the first place, to be honest. I mean, I've actually been in some nice parts of Kansas, but you'd never know they existed if you just saw the sights from the interstate highways there.

Now the ten or twenty mile stretch of weird hilly treeless prairie somewhere between Emporia and Wichita is, well, fascinating and strange and almost moonscape-ish... but I don't know that I'd call it pretty.

Anyway, enough about Kansas. It certainly went on long enough, that's what. I was glad to see some Oklahoma red dirt (of course, being an Oklahoman by birthright if not by actual birth) and any number of Braum's Ice Cream restaurants -- WHICH I will be enjoying at least once or twice while here.

Now I need to go outside and move my van out of the driveway so Pop can get out and go to work in the morning, and I also need to charge up my iPod so I can load up all my tunez tomorrow. [happy dancing]

Merry Christmas, y'all!!!

Road Trip!!

Tomorrow, the kids and I (sans Rick, he's gotta work) are taking off on a road trip to Texas!! Wahoo!! We'll be bunking at my parents' new digs in Denton and doing the Christmas thang there with the rest of the fam. I'm also excited because this will be Erica's first road trip with the family, and she'll be meeting all our folks down there.

I've been scurrying around today trying to get last-minute things taken care of before the trip; oil change on the van, road-music CDs burned, etc... Tomorrow morning we'll all do another en masse head-lice treatment just to get rid of any of the creepies that might be left behind, and while we're gone, Rick will do all the linens again. I sure do hope that clears the durn things up.

Tonight I've got to wrap all the gifts that are going south with us. I hope it doesn't take me too long; I'm pretty tired and tomorrow's going to be a loooong day. I'll be taking my laptop along and may try to do a little roadblogging if we find a wi-fi spot.

Pet search

Rick and I have talked it over, and we've decided that sometime in the next few months, the family can get a kitten. The reasons preventing us from it in the past aren't really a problem anymore, and I really do love kittycats very much. We may get two kittens at the same time so they can grow up together.

I don't know where the kittycat(s) are coming from right now; I'm sure the opportunity will present itself when the time comes. I have always been most fond of the "tuxedo" kitty, the ones that are mostly black with white on face, chest and feet. I also love calicoes and Siamese-points. But who knows what we'll end up with? We shall see.

Recent artwork

I painted a birthday card for a friend the other day, but I took a snapshot of it before I gave it away. My friend wanted me to share it on my blog, so here it is:



My friend loves Russia, so I chose to portray someone playing a balalaika, which is the national instrument of Russia.

Merry Christmas

The peace that Jesus brings to your life is so much bigger than simply the "absence of war in the world." No, that's not the peace he offers. His peace makes a bridge over the chasm of wrong that separates you from God.

That kind of peace is described in the Bible as "beyond understanding," and that's true. Most people, even scholarly religious types, don't get it. "Peace on Earth" is meant for you -- the individual YOU -- and when people on earth have that kind of peace in their hearts, it by default removes the need for war.

I'm guessing that Communist China is a "peaceful" place... meaning, there isn't a war raging in the streets there. And yet because this "peace" has been imposed on a national, authoritarian basis, people who live there are not truly at peace. TRUE peace can only come from within each individual's heart as it is transformed by the power of Jesus Christ.

THAT'S what we're celebrating here -- the Advent, or Coming, of TRUE PEACE to the earth.

Merry Christmas.

[Expletive Deleted]

Sorry, just thought I'd get your attention... heh...

Actually, this IS about the use of the occasional expletive. I just finished reading a post over at Internet Monk about "dirty words" and what the Bible has to say about their use.

Thoughts on Ephesians 4:29, 5:4

I highly recommend you go read this. Here's a portion of it:

Finally, Paul is obviously making each one of us responsible for how we use language. To the extent that we would use a word in private that we would not use in public, we bear responsibility. There ought to be standards for public speech in the Christian community, and I understand that Christians will differ on what those standards ought to be. I was ridiculed for suggesting that it is not incongruent with public Christian speech to have a PG-13 rule in an internet tavern. This is decision where Christians would differ, and as Romans 14 says, we each will stand before God to give an account.

Jesus said that words would be part of the subject of judgment. The Pharisees' use of words were part of the why Jesus condemned them. Jesus used specific words as examples of wrongful use of language. James, the Lord’s brother, has serious teaching on the use of language (the tongue) for all Christians.

There is no way to make Paul's teaching to say less than what it says. To the extent that the world, or the church, hears what we say, our language must be appropriate. A verbal libertine is as bad as any other libertine.

At the same time, I do not believe Paul's words were meant to produce people who recoil in offense at common vernacular or the normal language of informal conversation among friends. I do believe that when a word of thanksgiving, upbuilding and grace is called for, the Christian should know what to say, and what to never say.

Not too long ago, I was busy making some comedy videos for my church. The first one played, and got lots of laughs... but then later I got a note from the pastor saying that someone had complained because one of the actors in my video said "What the heck is that??" and they thought it was terribly inappropriate language for church.

I was completely astounded and wondered if the anonymous complainer ever left their house; they'd probably fall over in a dead faint if they walked into my workplace and got called an "effin' b*tch" or something similar. I was also very deflated and did not complete the video series because I knew that if "heck" was such a foul swear word to someone, the other comedy sketches would probably not meet with approval either (even though they were completely clean in my world).

Of course, I also privately thought it was rather lame of the pastor to pass that sort of thing off on me; he knew that was utterly ridiculous and he should've told the complainer so himself. But I'm also keenly aware of the way pastors are. Easier to tell them, "Okay, I'll pass that on to her," instead of looking at them in the eye and telling them, "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard and you need to get a life." [shrug] I know how it is.

Spencer's post addresses the heart of the real issue of "bad words" and does it very, very well. Go ye, therefore, and read it.

UPDATE... Mel of Actual Unretouched Photo reminded me of one of her posts about language that I read a couple of months ago and completely agreed with as well... while Spencer is coming at the issue from a theological, Scriptural standpoint, Mel addresses it by making a practical comparison. I remember reading it then and thinking it was an apt description.

Poetic Justice

Thank you to my friends at FARK for digging up this story about Robert Mugabe, the nasty and brutal dictator in Zimbabwe. It made me smile.

Mugabe Gets Pierced

A billy goat did some rough, instant justice to the President when his motorcade stopped to refuel en-route to the eastern resorts of Nyanga. The president, popularly known as Bob got out to stretch his legs, and speak to a couple locals. He was holding a bottle of water, when a Billy goat developed a profound interest and chose to pursue it. Whilst Bob swung the bottle at the goat, it quickly and sharply pierced Bob's scrotum, and large bowel. Mugabe's notorious bodyguards seemed unable to prevent the attack as the goat lunged towards the president; perhaps the goat should be handling his security in future. By the time they reached Christmas Pass outside Mutare, the President was in horrible pain and had to be rushed to a secret location in Mutare for medical treatment.

The man whose regime is responsible for so many brutalities, wouldn't it just be... oh, I don't know... fitting that he should die of sepsis from being gored by a GOAT? Of course, he ain't dead, but golly, you know that one had to hurt. And I can't think of a better, more deserving slimeball on the planet except maybe Osama.

Whoooo, dude!

I'm wondering how in the world this is even possible...

It's not a Screech Owl anymore, it's a CHEECH Owl.

If it's true, I am laughing big-time. What a HOOT!

[snicker snicker]

Colby James Grubb has arrived

Tim, lead singer for SoulFire, welcomed baby #2, Colby James, into the world this morning!

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow morning, eeeeeaaaaaarrrrrrrly in the morning, I'm going to be hanging out at the hospital with SoulFire Tim and his beautiful little wife Mary. Mary's got a scheduled C-section, and they're going to be greeting Baby Colby for the first time. I'll hang out until he's born and I know everybody's okay, and then I'll come back home and blog about it.

Part I

I've been mulling over this post for a while, and although my thoughts are still not completely "collected" on the issue, I thought I'd at least let you in on the process. I don't suppose one is ever really fully collected, if that's even possible. There's always learning and growing going on, and our family is on a journey. My understanding has evolved over time, as I have researched and read and listened and lived.

I think that I've always known that my first child was not normal, not even sort-of close to normal, from before she was even a year old. But God knows us best, and knows that if we knew the end from the beginning, we might not walk the path He intends for us because we'd be frightened. He gives us the pieces of the puzzle we need at the time that we need them, and saves the others for later. At any rate, much of what I thought at the time (and have thought all along the way) was just due to her having been adopted and just being different than me. She was also my first, and from what I've heard from many parents, the first one's the experimental one. I didn't really have any basis for comparison.

My entire parenting journey has actually, in some ways, been a journey of grief. Grief in gradual, imperceptible stages, but grief nonetheless. What are the stages of grief? Shock... anger... denial... bargaining... acceptance... are there others? I don't know. But according to Rick, these stages can be experienced in any order, even some stages over again, and I have found this to be true.

When someone experiences the sudden death of someone close, shock is almost always the first thing. With parenting and the journey of discovering just exactly who this little human being is becoming, shock isn't always first. That would imply that we actually found out something concrete and worked through it. No, we always had a vague notion that things weren't okay, but we spent ourselves on anger, denial, bargaining, and even acceptance. Shock -- sometimes heart-stopping shock -- has only really come as she has grown older and has begun exhibiting outward behaviors that are undeniable indicators of the illness.

Now I'm going to back up a little bit. I've been privately asked by more than one person to please stop blogging about this issue. My first inclination was to agree and to acquiesce. After all, it's embarrassing, right? Embarrassing to the family, embarrassing to her... it's unpleasant and it's not pretty; it's even scary for some people. It's not perfect or fun or happy.

I deleted every post about the subject that I'd written to that point, and I washed my hands of it.

Except that you can't wash this off your hands. It's always there. And it isn't going away. It's as much a part of our family as Alice's seizures.

Like Alice's seizures, however, Bipolar Disorder doesn't define us. It's just one thing we have to live with. But no-one has ever asked me to stop blogging about Alice's neurological condition. So what's the difference?

I mean, Alice's seizures occur in her brain, just as Martha's bipolar disorder does. In some ways, bipolar disorder can even be seen as a seizure as well, only this kind of seizure affects her emotional and rational centers rather than her physical centers. Both my girls have something catty-wampus in their brains, and it comes out in different ways. So why is one okay to talk about and not the other?

Thirty or forty years ago, even Alice's condition would've been a hush-hush thing. You didn't talk about people who "weren't right." You either put them out of sight in an institution or you kept them at home and didn't discuss the issue. You suffered in silence; after all, no-one wants to know when things are unpleasant. As you grew older, you joked with the cousins about "Crazy Aunt Edna," who talked to imaginary people, but nobody ever just came out and admitted that Aunt Edna probably suffered from schizophrenia.

Nowadays it can even be seen as "in vogue" to discuss physical disabilities... as if we're some sort of saints for adopting a child who we knew was physically disabled, or even better yet, that I'm a "SPECIAL EDUCATION TEACHER" who actually chose to WORK WITH disabled individuals. What comes to your mind when you read or hear the words "Special Education Teacher?" Do you envision a classroom full of wheelchairs and children with leg braces or hearing aids or white canes? How altruistic of me to do that sort of thing!

And how martyr-like of us to discuss having to take Alice to the neurologist and have MRI scans on her brain and EEGs and giving her doses of strong anti-convulsant medications every morning and night... and that her seizures are intractable and don't really stop happening even though she's on these high doses of medications... and that she continually experiences the visual phenomenon of everything getting smaller and backing away from her until she blinks her eyes and brings it all back to normal. What a sweet little girl to endure the monthly hormone shots at the endocrinologist to prevent her from going into puberty prematurely. You see, all these things aren't so bad to talk about because Alice herself is pleasant, sweet and gentle. She's a joy to be with. She's cheerful. Cheerful, joyful people are fun to be around, even if they have disabilities.

Not so much the ones that suffer from outbursts of irrational emotions, or the ones who swear or who are fascinated by sex.

You see, those are things that can also be mistaken for actual character flaws, those things that normal people sometimes do when they're misbehaving. Therefore, someone might think that we're bad parents or even bad people if they see her do those things.

Back to the issue at hand -- talk about our lives the way they are, or keep some things to ourselves? Being a confrontational, out-in-the-open kind of person by nature, it is my inclination to discuss things honestly and openly. In this way, I can possibly bring in the wisdom of others who might have experienced similar situations, and even more likely, I can educate my readers -- give them a glimpse into the world of families with disabilities of many types -- and in turn hopefully make it seem less scary, more frank and matter-of-fact, and less stigmatized.

I know that lots of members of my extended family from all over the country read this blog from time to time, to catch up with me and with my family. It is this fact which has brought the most trepidation in this situation... "Kris, do you really want the rest of the family knowing all this stuff?"... and my answer then has to be YES. I do. I want them to know, but not because I want them to pity us or fear her. I want them -- and everyone else -- to KNOW... to put real, human faces on scary, impersonal "disorders" like bipolar or epilepsy... and to GROW... to learn to see people all around them in a more authentic way, and even to come out of denial about the issues they themselves may be facing and hiding.

I have experienced the most personal growth when I have been the most honest with myself and have allowed God to show me the unvarnished truth about myself. If I go on pretending something doesn't exist, I never get to work through it.

So it comes down to TRUTH. And that, my dear readers and friends, is where I will begin this series.

Can you handle the truth?

Christmas Greetings from the Wood Family

(front row)Martha - age 11, Isaac - age 6, Alice - age 10
(back row)Erica - age 16, Kris, Rick

God has blessed our family so much. Thank you for being part of this blogging experiment and for your prayers and support throughout this past year.

Merry Christmas to all of you!

Unlike this fellow, I have no words for this

The weirdest eBay item description I've ever read

(h/t: FARK)

Thank you, Hollywood

Once in a while, they get something right.

When I heard a year ago that Narnia was coming out this Christmas, I was excited -- but with trepidation. The Narnia series of books have been some of my most beloved reading material since I was ten. I could recount in precise detail just about everything in each of the seven books, I've re-read them so often. The only other series of books I've loved THAT much have been the Anne of Green Gables books. Close seconds would be the Little House books and the Black Stallion books, but even those didn't have the staying power of Narnia for me.

What if Hollywood butchered the storyline? What if they chose the actors poorly? What if they added so much glop that they totally lost the point?

Well, they didn't. They actually got it right.

I knew they'd paid attention to detail when there was actually a dead fly on the windowsill of the wardrobe room.

Okay, I do have one teeny, tiny thing to point out, and that's that the little girl who portrayed Lucy had something green behind her teeth, as if she had a bright green retainer on the roof of her mouth. If that were the case, could they not at least retouch those in the editing process? Plus, the movie was so full of CGI, why couldn't they just erase that little bit of green showing through?

But that's such a small thing, and not particularly problematic. The little girl herself was spectacular as Lucy -- perfect casting if I ever saw it. So was Edmund. And Tumnus -- wow! The FX were beautiful.

Thanks, Disney. You're beginning to redeem yourself.

Posting Plans

I'm planning a series of posts in the next few days or so regarding mental illness, the fears people have about it, the misconceptions, etc. I hope to clear up a few issues, raise a few other issues, and maybe ruffle a few feathers here and there.

Tonight, however, I'm headed off to the mooovies with my SoulFire SoulMate, Ames.

By the way, regarding suffering

I am totally aware that the simple fact that circumstances are wacky around here does NOT automatically indicate that we're somehow not listening to God or being disobedient. I was just being somewhat facetious.

God's goal is for us to be more like Christ. What was Christ like? Kind... loving... gentle... Learning how to be kind, gentle and loving when everything is hunky-dory is, well, easy. Easy, and I don't have to rely on anyone but myself to do it. Loving someone who's hard to love? That's when my love becomes Christ-like, because it doesn't come from ME. Being kind even when I'm being sworn at, kicked, spat at, or insulted? That kindness comes from God, not me, and when I can show that sort of kindness, it's evidence that I've relinquished control.

Rick also pointed out to me that the idea of "Everything is going exactly the way I want it to, therefore I must be right in the center of God's will" has no basis in Scripture. In fact, oftentimes it's the people who are in the center of God's will who are suffering the most. Jesus said of the apostle Paul, "I will show you how much you must suffer for my Name." It's very shortsighted of most of us churchgoers when we assume that "plagues" are allowed to happen to us in order to correct some wrong that we're doing... and it's a very common conclusion that most of us jump to. Was Paul stoned and shipwrecked and snakebitten because he was being disobedient? No. Those things happened to him so that God's power and sovereignty would be displayed in his life.

The same thing is true of a child who rebels. How else is a person able to realize just how much God loves us than to have their own child turn against them -- because only then can we see just exactly what we do to God. We turn away, shake our fists, do what we want, and yet He continues to love us, to pursue us, to want us back. When I can show that very same kind of love to my rebellious child, I then know that I have the love of the Father in me.

At its very core, suffering is God's way of saying, "Do you trust Me now?" How can we know the extent of our faith if it is never tested? In the book of Job, Job's "friends" counseled him, saying that it was obvious that he was being punished for some sin in his life and that if he would just confess it, it would all be made right. Job knew that that wasn't the case; he was penitent, but he also knew that his suffering was for some other purpose he didn't know of yet. Turns out he was right. And God never did tell Job why; he only required that Job trust him.

Answers In Genesis has this to say:

Jesus said something that is directly applicable to modern tragedies, such as the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in the United States on September 11, 2001. Luke 13:4 records His words: "Those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them -- do you think they were sinners above all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no!" Suffering in our lives is not always related to our personal sin.

Note, however, that Jesus went on to say that "unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." Though this may have been referring to perishing physically in the coming downfall of Jerusalem, the bottom line is that no-one is innocent. All of us are sinners and therefore condemned to die. Thousands of people died in the World Trade Center catastrophe, but the hundreds of millions of people who saw and heard about this event will also die one day -- in fact, thousands of them are dying every day -- because all humans have been given the death penalty because of sin.

I may never find out (in this life) why we had head lice and Norovirus all in the same week. It may be that it's just how it happened. At any rate, I'm going to give thanks to God for it. Like Corrie ten Boom and her sister Nollie in the concentration camp, the fleas which might've been seen as a "plague" were the very thing that kept the Nazi guards away from their barracks and allowed the women inside to conduct Bible studies... so they gave thanks for the fleas. They obviously served a higher purpose than just to accommodate comfort. If I have to be uncomfortable so that God's purposes are served, then so be it.

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Of course, we could be like my six-year-old son, who saw the nit combs as just exactly the items needed to build a particular gadget for his Batman.

Life hands you lemons; make lemonade ... Don't see problems, see opportunities ... Think different

Plague #5

The upstairs toilet is not working.

I'm headed for shut-down mode.

Arrrrr!!

Props to my pal BlueFish for making me aware of this little quiz.



You scored as Captain Jack Sparrow. Roguish,quick-witted, and incredibly lucky, Jack Sparrow is a pirate who sometimes ends up being a hero, against his better judgement. Captain Jack looks out for #1, but he can be counted on (usually) to do the right thing. He has an incredibly persuasive tongue, a mind that borders on genius or insanity, and an incredible talent for getting into trouble and getting out of it. Maybe it's brains, maybe it's genius, or maybe it's just plain luck. Or maybe a mixture of all three.

Captain Jack Sparrow........92%
Maximus.....................75%
Batman, the Dark Knight.....67%
Neo, the "One"..............58%
James Bond, Agent 007.......54%
The Amazing Spider-Man......50%
Lara Croft..................50%
The Terminator..............46%
El Zorro....................38%
Indiana Jones...............33%
William Wallace.............29%

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

Y'all might want to stand clear

While I was lying near-death in bed yesterday, I got a call from the middle school. She's been cutting.

I can barely think, but I called the therapist and set up an emergency appointment.

When she came home, I checked it over. It was a letter "C"; she claimed it stood for her friend Caitlyn, but she doesn't have any friends named Caitlyn. Lying, as usual. Can someone tell me -- what do you DO with a kid like this?

This morning, I'm still not feeling tip-top, but I was okay to go back to work. Littlest One was scratching his head, so I checked him under a brighter light than I did the other day.

Head lice. Lots of them.

I checked Next Littlest. Yep.

I texted Teenager, who was already at the high school. She visited the nurse, who immediately sent her home.

The whole head-lice thing totally drove EVERYTHING ELSE out of my brain. I just got a phone call from the therapist. "Where are you guys?"

CRAP. CRAP. CRAP. CRAP.

I want off this amusement-park ride. I'm not amused.

Let's see...
--Fleas
--Norovirus
--Self-injuring
--Lice

Here's a list of the Original Ten, from the book of Exodus:
1. All the water in Egypt turned to blood.
2. Frogs everywhere.
3. Gnats
4. Flies
5. Diseases on livestock of Egyptians only
6. Boils
7. Hail
8. Locusts
9. Darkness for three days (except over the Israelites' land)
10. Death of the firstborn

I'm thinking I don't want to wait around for number Five, much less all Ten. I'm listening, God -- honest, I am.

But in the meantime, I'd advise you all to stand clear, because who knows what might be coming next? I certainly don't want to know.

The Norwalk virus, eh?

Apparently that's one of the names for this thing that has swept through our family like a tsunami. Remember that nasty virus that crippled a cruise ship a year or two ago? This is it.

Norovirus is its actual name. From the CDC's web site:

The symptoms of norovirus illness usually include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and some stomach cramping. Sometimes people additionally have a low-grade fever, chills, headache, muscle aches, and a general sense of tiredness. The illness often begins suddenly, and the infected person may feel very sick. The illness is usually brief, with symptoms lasting only about 1 or 2 days.

Noroviruses are found in the stool or vomit of infected people. People can become infected with the virus in several ways, including:

* eating food or drinking liquids that are contaminated with norovirus;
* touching surfaces or objects contaminated with norovirus, and then placing their hand in their mouth;
* having direct contact with another person who is infected and showing symptoms (for example, when caring for someone with illness, or sharing foods or eating utensils with someone who is ill).

Persons working in day-care centers or nursing homes should pay special attention to children or residents who have norovirus illness. This virus is very contagious and can spread rapidly throughout such environments.

Symptoms of norovirus illness usually begin about 24 to 48 hours after ingestion of the virus, but they can appear as early as 12 hours after exposure.

Noroviruses are very contagious and can spread easily from person to person. Both stool and vomit are infectious. Particular care should be taken with young children in diapers who may have diarrhea.

People infected with norovirus are contagious from the moment they begin feeling ill to at least 3 days after recovery. Some people may be contagious for as long as 2 weeks after recovery. Therefore, it is particularly important for people to use good handwashing and other hygienic practices after they have recently recovered from norovirus illness.

Good to know. Thanks to Mary and Bilbored for giving us the heads-up on it.

My turn

Now Mom has the Vomitous Maximus virus.

Can't sit here long.

I feel like complete pigpoop.

Do you KNOW what my diastolic is, Ferris?

BlueFish is growing a beard!!

Blue Fish, one of the coolest people ever known to exist in the free or oppressed world, is allowing his facial hair to sprout. You can go visit his blog and tell him whether you think it should stay or go. Here's a photo of him:

Planned Parenthood: Enabling Child Rapists

UPDATE: PPGG has now removed all traces of the page containing this testimonial.Dawn Eden has the whole story.

When they post personal testimonials like this on their own web site, why aren't they being investigated?

It Keeps Us Safe

I was raped at 11, by my 17 year old boyfriend. I chose not to tell my parents because I didn't think their involvement would help, that was the right choice for me. Planned Parethood helped me deal with the aftermath of the rape allowing me to deal and cope as best as I could in my own way. I was 14 when I decided to start having sex, the day I made that choice I made an appointment to get birth control pills. I'm 17 now, I've been with my current boyfriend for about two years. During that time i've been HIV and STD tested four times. Right now I'm sitting in the waiting room while my boyfriend gets the results for his HIV test. We love each other so we're responsible and Planned Parenthood helps us to do that.

- name withheld -

What a shameful organization.

Dawn Eden says it all way better than I can:

"It Keeps Us Safe"? Safe from what? Safe from parents finding out their little girls were raped? It certainly doesn't keep children safe from rapists.

To recap: An 11-year-old girl walked into Planned Parenthood, saying she had been raped. Not just statutory rape, either; forcible rape.

Planned Parenthood assured the girl that it would not contact her parents, and it was true to its word. Likewise, it must not have contacted the authorities either, otherwise the parents would certainly have been notified.

Thanks to Planned Parenthood, the rapist remained at large, still free to attack other little girls.

Go to her site and read it all. And remember: YOUR tax dollars go to help fund this organization which gives perps, pedophiles and predators a free pass.

MY daughter is eleven. If I found out someone had raped her, I'd certainly want them prosecuted. I'd probably want them castrated, but that may just be the Mama Grizzly in me talking, I dunno. Nonetheless, I find the attitude of the PP organization to be incompatible with the law. How interesting that half their name is "Parenthood," yet they flout that very institution by preventing Parents from properly caring for their own children who are being abused.

Helping people murder their unborn children... preventing people from caring for their adolescent children... sounds to me like PP hates children and wants more than anything to undermine the family and shatter its underpinnings.

I am ashamed that I live in a country where the government forcibly takes a portion of my income and redistributes it to organizations that I would not otherwise support. I realize, too, that there aren't any better options out there (as far as countries to live in), so I stay here. But I also intend to continue making known just exactly what's happening here.

Okay, here's my plan

I've scrubbed the kids' heads, and stripped their beds, vacuumed and all that jazz. Now I'm going to sprinkle borax into all the carpet, leave it for a week, then vacuum THAT up. I saw this suggestion on a web site and thought it sounded better to me than doing the fogger thing. We may still do that, too, but I'm thinking we'll wait to fog the house until after we all leave for Texas after Christmas.

Puke-fest at the Wood household

Now all three of the kids are puking. Rick is feeling better than yesterday, and he doesn't have any more sick days until January 1, so he's going to work and I'm staying home.

I'll be doing some research on how best to rid one's house of fleas, I suppose. And in a day or two, I imagine I'll be puking, myself, since whatever virus this is seems to be rather contagious.

[sigh]

This is a joke, right?

My plane landed safely and only ten minutes behind schedule yesterday. As I had boarded the plane at DFW, I had watched a few minutes of the Cowboys/Chiefs game and the Chiefs had scored very quickly. So I wasn't terribly optimistic about how the rest of the game was going to go. When I got off the plane, though, I called a friend and found out that my 'boys were up by three with 22 seconds left to play. Caramba!!!

Unfortunately, I think that was the only good news there was to be had.

As the evening wore on and we watched the final Survivor: Guatemala episode, Rick began to get increasingly sicker. Throughout the night, he was murfing in the bathroom -- LOUDLY. The sound of violent retching is not conducive to sleep. I felt really bad for him, but hey, he got to stay home from work and sleep all day. I still had to teach.

Then Isaac came downstairs crying, saying his head itched so much he couldn't sleep. My heart skipped a beat, and I began to run my fingers through his hair.

My son has fleas.

This can NOT be happening. I do NOT need this.

So now we get to try to get rid of the fleas, because obviously they're coming from our dog.

Tonight I used Bijou's flea shampoo on his hair. I'm hoping tomorrow we can strip all the linens and spray the carpet and shampoo the dog. This is so ridiculous.

On the flight to Dallas/Fort Worth

December 8, 2005... I sat down in row 3, seat D, next to a very tall man in a cowboy hat. He had a longish black zipper bag between his knees, and for a moment I wondered if he wasn't bringing his rifle along. I sat down and smiled and said, "Brought your violin with you?"

He smiled back and said, "No, it's actually a travel guitar."

!!!!!

He's actually packing a mini-Martin, and the two of us proceed to converse about all things musical. He's a bluegrass/country/gospel guitarist from Texas (a traveling salesman by day, but we all know that musicians are always musicians first and everything else just augments that part of our lives).

I told him I was on my way to Fort Worth to play for a wedding, and he recounted a hilarious story of a time he played at a wedding back in the early 70s in a tiny west Texas town. The bride had chosen a couple of songs for the wedding; one was a standard hymn, and the other one was the theme from Love Story. The little old lady pianist had no trouble with the hymn, of course, but when she was told the other song, she had a blank look on her face. She’d never heard the song before. So my friend spent all day Friday working with her to teach it to her... to little avail.

When the wedding was about to start, a large tractor rolled noisily up outside the little country church, its discs spread wide, and came to a stop. The farmer was wearing his Sunday best, and he calmly climbed down off the tractor. "I just wanted to plow that last stretch on my way here," he explained.

The wedding began as planned, with the bride marching down the aisle to the typical "Here Comes the Bride" song. Then the hymn, done beautifully. When it came time for "Love Story," however, my friend reached over to the piano and closed the lid. Under his breath, he said, "Lady, if you touch those keys, you're dead." He proceeded to do the song without her, which pleased her none too well.

Later the groom pulled him aside. "I was wondering how you were going to handle that," he chuckled. "You know she's mad at you, don’t you?"

"She may be related to you, but I ain't ever gonna see her again, so I don't care if she's mad. I wasn't going to try to follow that," my friend said.


It's nice to sit next to someone with whom you have something in common. Makes for a pleasant (and short) flight. I let him listen to SoulFire on my headphones. I wish he could've taken out that little Martin and played, though.

Once on a flight from Miami to Minneapolis, there was a woman sitting two rows ahead of me who had a ukelele and was happily strumming it throughout the flight. I was glad *she* was happy, because the rest of us were less than enthralled.

I spoke to SarahK on my cell phone right before I boarded the plane, so at least I was able to confirm that she does know what flight I'm on and such. I am *so* looking forward to this!!!

I'm enjoying listening to some Etta James, Nat King Cole, Elton John and Harry Connick, Jr. while I'm thirty-thousand feet in the air, too. I heart my laptop. I dl'd the songs for the wedding so I could listen to them in flight while blogging.


I took the day off work today, even though my flight didn't leave until 6PM, because my best friend was having another heart surgery. I picked her up to take her to the hospital; we always do this for one another because it's so much more calming to have one's best girlfriend with you than your husband. Not that Rick and I don't get along; we're fine. But sometimes a girl just needs her best girlfriend with her, y'know?

I sat with her in pre-op for what seemed like endless hours. The nurse who tried to put her IV in was, well, less than competent. She dug around in Cindy's arm for a while, and Cindy (who tolerates a great deal of pain without flinching) was beginning to get a little agitated. Finally the woman called another nurse, who continued to dig around in her arm for a while before pulling the needle out. "Don't know why we can't get that one," she said. Cindy was about to come unglued, of course. They tried again with one on the back of her hand, which went in fine.

Then they all went to lunch. I kid you not -- every single nurse in pre-op left, and the place was EMPTY. We sat there for literally an hour with no-one even peeping in to check on us. Neither of us was impressed by this, of course. The phone at the desk rang and rang... and no-one answered it.

Finally a nurse came in and took us down to surgery, and I had to wave bye and head out for the plane. I'm sitting here on the flight right now and I don't know how she made it through surgery. I hate that. When either of us has surgery, we're always there for each other, and while I was there for the beforehand, I couldn’t be there for the after. I totally hate that.

But she knew that SarahK and a bunch of us were going to go sing karaoke tonight, so she made me promise to call whenever we got done and tell her what I chose to sing. Right now I'm debating... either "Someone To Watch Over Me" or "I've Got a Crush On You"... or maybe I'll freak everyone out and dig up some old Dolly Parton number. I'm a multi-faceted person, I tell you.

I wonder if they have any Ramones karaoke?

Stress Cited As Major Factor In Wedding-Day Freakouts

SarahK could never be a real Bridezilla, but frustration and procrastination can really take its toll.

Oh,and by the way

Just for the record, SarahK does know a swear word because I heard her use it during the awful traffic when we were trying to get to Kinko's.

When Bloggers Marry

I have tons and tons to post... pictures, descriptions, etc... but my laptop doesn't like the wi-fi network here at Kinko's so I'm sitting at their stupid workstation instead. Hence, you're only going to get this piddly little post, assuring you that I'm fine and having a hilarious time and I can't wait to fill all y'all in on the Blogger Wedding of the Year.

My cousin Matt is blogging about my parents

My cousin Matt from deep south Texas has blogged about my parents. He actually gets to see my folks more than I do, the lucky guy.

JoeMama

AngieDaddy

Mom & Dad had a little vacation time, so they drove down to Matt's for a brief visit. I don't blame them for heading south to Corpus rather than north to Des Moines... it ain't fit for man nor beast here.

Have I complained enough about the weather yet?

I suppose it's possible to have a sense of humor about snow

A snow dragon guards a house in Ames, Iowa.

Okay, this is getting boring

Today's "Personal Forecast"...

Good afternoon, Kris

Another round of fluffy snow for overnight into Thursday. Heaviest amounds of 4-6 inches will occur south of highway 34 with amound of 3-5 inches possible south of I-80, rapidly diminishing to the north.

Chief Meteorologist John McLaughlin

Thank you, John.

Martha just griped that she can't feel her feet. I turned to look, and she's wearing capris and is barefoot.

[insert standard-issue eye roll here]

Garsh, I just loooooove Iowa.

Here's my weather forecast for today:

7AM to noon
Temperatures will rise from 0 to 6 by late this morning. Skies will be sunny to mostly cloudy with 5 to 10 MPH winds from the northwest.

1PM to 6PM
Today's high of 9 will occur around 2:00pm as temperatures diminish to 1 by late afternoon. Skies will be sunny with 5 to 10 MPH winds from the northwest.

7PM to midnight
Temperatures will remain around 0. Skies will range from clear to mostly clear with 5 to 10 MPH winds from the northwest.

1AM to 6AM
Temperatures will stay near -2 with today's low of -3 occurring around 6:00am. Skies will be mostly clear with 5 MPH winds from the northwest.

Hey... it ain't Barrow, Alaska, right? It was -10F this morning there. But hey... the way I look at it, once it goes below zero, who cares anymore? It's just cold. Might as well be sixty-below; still can't go outside.

Tragic

From the Houston Chronicle:
Grandfather's ricochet kills 6-year-old granddaughter

He was shooting at some feral pigs and using the hood of his Jeep as a brace. Ryleigh was in the cab, and the gun barrel went just a little too low and the bullet ricocheted, went through the windshield and killed her.

That poor family... Christmas is going to be really, really sad for them. That man has to be heartbroken.

Umm, yeah. I know what you mean.

Mel over at Actual Unretouched Photo wrote a post last Friday that absolutely rings a bell with me.

How Today Could Have Been Worse

This was one of those days in which I question myself. Why am I doing this? Why did I find the idea of childlessness so repugnant? Where did I go wrong? How can I get out of my contract? Who are these people living in my house and how can I evict them?

She goes on to list a few things that could have made the day worse, such as a giant meteor crashing into the planet. Heh.

I spent a good deal of yesterday morning at church rather upset over something one of my children had done... wondering when I had signed up to take on a child with a mood/behavior disorder... and God reminded me in Scripture that each person is responsible for his own conduct. Doesn't absolve me from working hard to point her in the right direction and protect her from unnecessary stress and temptation, but she knows right from wrong and ultimately she is responsible for that choice. If she's unable to overcome an actual medical problem, we work hard to find the right dose of the right medication to address the problem.

It helps me to step back and view things clinically sometimes, particularly where this child is concerned, because it removes the "personal" nature of the attacks and the rages. I could choose to be hurt over the things she says and does, or I can view these things as indicators of a problem that needs to be addressed.

I dealt with an irascible, out-of-control student today, and I felt a great sense of control over the situation because I remained perfectly calm and removed my emotions from it. If I could only do that consistently with my own child! Actually, I usually do, but then there are just times when I'm at the end of my peace and the tired, cranky, reactionary Mommy comes out to play.

So, yeah, I often wonder if I signed on some dotted line somewhere while I was asleep, because I don't remember anything about this. I guess I shouldn't complain; people put up with all kinds of illnesses and disorders that are probably way worse than this. I could have to care for a child who's permanently in diapers. BLECH!! But it seems almost an even trade-off, for a child who hates me, hates herself, hates everything. I don't know which is worse.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!!!!!

I get a daily e-mail from one of the local news channels with a weather update. The one I just got from them was titled "ARCTIC BLAST" and I saw it and thought, umm, there's more where this came from? Cuz it's so cold right now I can hardly breathe. But no... it's going to get even colder. Here's the weatherman's statement, verbatim:

Evening temps have already dropped in the single digits, and some locations are BELOW ZERO. Unfortunately, this bitterly cold blast is forecast to sit over Iowa for the next 4 to 5 days. DRESS IN LAYERS & COVER EXPOSED SKIN!

I wonder if I can get my Thursday airline ticket to Fort Worth moved up to tomorrow?

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As I've said before, I absolutely LOVE Sundays. Without question it's my favorite day of the week.

This morning's music set was well-executed and well-received. Even the "countrified" version of "Silent Night" turned out to be a pretty awesome number. While I'm not a huge fan of modern country music, I will confess that I grew up listening to a great deal of music of every type, including country. I used to tune in the WBAP-820AM out of Fort Worth/Dallas, back when they were a country music station instead of a talk-radio format. Singing country is not a stretch for me, partially because of my natural accent. Now, to be sure, it's not what I'd sing if I had my druthers, but it does seem to be what my voice is suited to. [sigh] Someone once told me, years ago, that I should sing country, and I wanted to curl up and die. A punk-rock alternative freaky soul, trapped in the body of a country singer. How warped is that?

After church was over, Isaac always comes to the stage and starts helping put things away. He loves being a roadie and goes up to all the guys in the band and offers to help them with whatever they need. Often, he collects the microphones and zips each one back into its bag and then carries them upstairs to the sound booth. Today he didn't get to do that, however, because we were leaving everything out for the concert tonight. He was a little disappointed, but all was better when he found out Dad was stopping at Casey's for pizza.

**************************

For tonight's concert, I had arranged to pick up one of my students to take her along. I thought she would enjoy the concert -- which she did.

And it was a terrific concert. We managed to raise about $2K for baby Elijah and his parents, to help with their extra expenses.

And at least five or six young people prayed to receive Christ tonight. The heavens are partying!!!

**************************

And I'm about to be snoring. I didn't get a nap today, and I'm plumb tuckered out (to use a country phrase).

Anniversary redux

For those of you who were wondering what we did to celebrate our anniversary, wonder no more.

I had actually agreed some time ago to play the piano for the Ladies' Christmas Tea at church, and it just happened to fall on our anniversary. Wouldn't have been a problem, really, except that I also had a splitting headache and was feeling rather irritable. I came home and went to sleep. AFTER I got warm, that is. It's so stinkin' cold here that I can hardly stand to get out from underneath the quilts and blankets. Coming out of the shower is an exercise in Olympic shivering. I usually have to get BACK under the covers to warm up before I can even stand to put clothes on.

Anyway, we both said happy anniversary to one another, and that was enough. That, and he let me put my cold feet up against his backside so I could go to sleep. Now THAT's love, because my feet are somehow mysteriously thermally linked to the outdoor temperature and it's like single digits outside and there's a ton of perma-snow blanketing the ground. It could be toasty in the house and I'd still have cold feet. When I put them up against him, he usually makes the comment that he has a hard time believing that something THAT cold could actually be alive.

And now, it's once again time to snuggle back under the quilts and hug Sherman the Teddy Bear... tomorrow's a humongous day and there won't be an opportunity for the usual Sunday afternoon snooze.

Nighty-night, y'all.

CONCERT!!!

Tomorrow night!!!

BE THERE!!!

6PM

Here's a map.

Making Mom Happy

I went to bed last night with the beginnings of a headache... awoke at 4 AM in excruciating pain. I can't afford to miss school on account of my own illness because I've got to save all my days to take care of the kids. So I went ahead and went to school. It lasted all day long, and by the time I got home I was wiped out and could barely see straight. After making sure everyone was picked up from school and safely settled, I went to bed.

I woke from my nap at about 7PM, and Isaac said, "Dad! Where's the love note I wrote for Mom?"

Rick handed it to Isaac, who proudly handed it to me. "Here, Mom. I wrote this for you."



I needed that, buddy-boy. Thanks.

Atypical French designer

Something about this story just makes me want to thumb my nose at two different groups: French politicians and the Congressional Black Caucus.

French designer defies stereotype

BOBIGNY, France (AP) -- French streetwear designer Mohamed Dia boasts more than 20 tattoos, but his favorite is the one between his shoulder blades. Written in Chinese, it reads: "Destined for success."

In reality, this son of Malian immigrants, born and raised in the drab Paris suburb of Sarcelles, was guaranteed anything but a glittering future.

The youngest of five children, he spent most of his childhood in government care after his parents divorced. By the time he was 15, he was doing jail time for car robbery. Now 32, he runs a business with a turnover of $17.5 million in 2004.

Dia knows he could just as easily have turned out like the hundreds of youths who have burned cars and ransacked public buildings for two weeks to protest their daily lot of discrimination and bleak prospects.

"I understand the kid in the street who is fighting back against a system that means nothing ever changes," Dia said while sitting in his company headquarters in the northeastern suburb of Bobigny.

"I am not saying violence is the way to make yourself heard, but sometimes, slamming your fist on the table helps a lot."

Growing up in high-rise tower blocks built for immigrants from France's colonies in north Africa, Dia had few role models. His first visit to the United States at age 19 changed all that.

"I was impressed by the black community, seeing black people on television, seeing black people involved in society, and when I saw what goes on in France, I thought to myself there was a big gap," he said.

In France, few members of ethnic minorities have made it to positions of high responsibility in politics and the media, he noted.

"We have nothing to identify with, we have no heroes," Dia said. "In France, we don't have the right to dream. We don't have the opportunity to move up, outside of soccer and music."

Music gave him his big break. Dia started making clothes for his friends, part of France's vibrant rap scene in the 1990s, and his bold T-shirts, tracksuits and hooded tops quickly created a buzz among inner city youth happy to have a homegrown label they could identify with.

Only three years after he launched his M.Dia label in 1998, the designer made his American dream come true by signing a license deal with the NBA that gives him the right to use its logo for clothes sold in Europe.

Shortly afterward, he launched another line with former Fugees musician Wyclef Jean in a bid to crack the U.S. market. M.Dia is now sold in 500 stores in France and 250 in the United States.

Dia, who spends six months a year in the U.S., is angry about the stereotypes of violence that plague the French suburbs -- stereotypes likely to be reinforced by the dramatic images of burning cars plastered across world media in recent days.

He is pessimistic about the future, saying it would take a U.S.-style equal opportunities policy to erase decades of discrimination -- a concept that meets strong resistance from France's political elite.

"Kids today ... don't want to be handed money and told to shut up. What they want is to exist in this society," he said.

Dia hopes that his example can provide inspiration to kids who dream of a better future. Last January, he staged his first catwalk collection in the same venue that has played host to industry heavyweights such as Givenchy and Chanel -- a symbolic act of defiance.

"I wanted to show people that when the minorities of this country give themselves the chance, they can succeed," he said.

Nyah, nyah, nyah...

"What's up?"

How is it possible to be this stupid???

Plainclothes police Officer Patrick Hickey was recently checking license plates in an alley as part of a Des Moines drug investigation when a man asked him: "What's up?"

Hickey, believing it to be a rhetorical question, said in kind: "What's up?"

The man asked again: "What's up?"

So Hickey repeated the reply.

"I'll show you what's up," the man said just before he went inside a nearby house and came out with a .38-caliber handgun.

"The guy got a gun because I said 'What's up?' Unbelievable," Hickey said. "I had no idea he would want to shoot me for saying 'What's up?'

"Just unbelievable."

Hickey showed his badge, identified himself as an officer, and pointed a gun at the man, who dropped his weapon.

Des Moines police weren't looking for Stewart Jenkins when Hickey stopped in the alley in the 1100 block of 25th Street. But the 33-year-old fugitive from Michigan will be arraigned Friday on drug and weapons charges.

Police said they searched Jenkins and found $700 and a small amount of suspected crack cocaine. A search warrant for the house turned up $8,000 and 15 grams of alleged crack cocaine.

Jenkins is wanted in Michigan, where he was on parole for assault. He is in the Polk County Jail on more than $130,000 bond.

h/t Brent from Law & Disorder