10 Year Letter

Dear Robby,

You turned 10 years old a few weeks ago! I cannot believe that you have already been on this planet for a whole decade. I can remember so many things about those first ten years and sometimes it seems like just yesterday you were stumbling around the living room on your chubby little legs saying, “Bahbo!” (rainbow) at the top of your lungs. It has been a long time since I sat down and wrote you a letter, so this may be a longer letter than most.

You had a lot of fun decorating this cake. You used some of your Star Wars action figures and made the epic battle scene. When we took them off, fudge icing was stuck all over them and C3PO looked like he pooped all over himself.

You just finished the 4^th grade and it was one of the best years for you at school in a long time. You are younger than most of your classmates and that has caused some problems in the past. You’re always a little bit behind them in social and emotional development. You started riding the bus to and from school at the end of this year. You were so thrilled that we finally gave you some independence and freedom. (I cried a little behind the front door the first few times you went off alone and never looked back.) You are quicker to anger, quicker to love, quicker to trust and quicker to laugh than most of them too. Those things have nothing to do with your age. Those are the McDowell traits that will serve you well and make you special. We won’t dwell on the other McDowell traits just yet. This year, you seemed to have closed the age gap a little more. Your second grade teacher, Mr. Johnson, told us that this would happen in a few years. You started the 4^th grade feeling like a misfit and ended it knowing that who are is not only acceptable, it’s awesome.

You still love basketball, Harry Potter, Minecraft and Star Wars. Your imagination is astounding. You have been taking coronet lessons for just over a year now. You really have an aptitude for music and I try not to push you too hard for fear that you will rebel and stop playing. When I take out my clarinet and we play together are some of the best memories for me this past year. Music has helped me so much throughout my life and I really love sharing that with you and seeing things for the first time again through you. You’ve started sharing some of your favorite music with me too this year. I will play you “Rock Lobster” by the B52s and then you’ll play me “Sugar” by Maroon 5 and laugh at how I dance.  

So far, 2015 has been a tough year for our family. In January, Meemaw moved in with us and our normal routines were erased and replaced with anything but normal. She is so different from Grandma so I was worried how you two might get along. You’ve had Grandma less than a mile away for many years now and spend a lot of time at her house on the weekends. Again, you have surprised me with your unconditional love for Meemaw, even though she has been nothing like the Grandma you adore. You two have found your own things in common and have connected. She scratches your back for minutes every night when you come to hug her goodnight.

One Team went out of business this year. You have been going to One Team since Kindergarten and this has been a tough transition. You don’t understand why they stopped being there for you after school and during the summer. Sometimes adult reasons creep into the world of children where everything is possible and you always do ”Better Than Your Best”. Your hero, Coach Amazing, was dealing with these adult realities and some of his frustration came out as being overly harsh on you. You never told me he was treating you badly at Winter Camp. Another Coach had to fill me in. Your loyalty to him is another McDowell trait. It broke my heart to see the realization on your face that a hero was really only human after all. I am sorry you had to learn this reality this year too. Never forget that all the coaches talked and agreed that of all the hundreds of One Team kids over the years, you were their unanimous favorite.

In school, they showed your class “THE VIDEO” about puberty. You came home and announced that it was the worst day of your life. You got a “stupid” booklet and a stick of deodorant. We knew the video was coming and went to a screening of it months before you saw it. Robby, it was a stupid and outdated video. Your Dad and I trapped you in the car to have a puberty talk before you saw it hoping to ease the embarrassment. I drove, you sat behind me so we could never have eye contact and Dad started in. He would hit the highlights and then look at me for clues to what he was forgetting. Mouthing “wet dreams” to your Dad in the Dairy Queen drive-thru is something I will never forget.

In February, Dad got diagnosed with melanoma and had a large tumor removed from his foot. It has taken him 5 months to start walking again, if only on a limited basis. We didn’t tell you that dad had cancer until we got the results of the lymph node biopsy they did to see if it had spread. We didn’t know what to tell you. We didn’t want you to worry about something that we worried about. When the biopsy came back negative, we told you that what they removed was cancer and that the surgeon had gotten it all out. We told you everything was going to be fine and tried our best to believe just that.

Since Dad isn’t able to work, I have been working more and spending less time with you. I have missed our Tuesday afternoons. I learned a few years back that I have to ask you detailed questions about your day to not get a “fine” response. You always opened up on those Tuesday afternoons and I felt connected to your life and what was going on in your world. When we have talked about me working more now, you have always understood why I wasn’t there, and I thank you for that. I want you to know that all along though, I knew you were missing me, scared Dad would die and thinking about how unfair all of this was. I am thinking all those things too, Robby, but you need someone to tell you everything is going to be okay and show you how to keep moving forward in faith. I am trying really hard every day to do just that. I guess only time will tell if I was successful.

Your music teacher commented on your report card that “Robby likes to talk. A lot…” She knows you well. You talk to everyone! Your classmates, our neighbors, the other shoppers in the grocery store, the mailman, our adult friends, store clerks…it doesn’t matter who you talk to. You share information and always engage people in conversation. I’m plotting how to pay you back for telling a city council member how much I love the movie “Fifty Shades of Grey”. I still think that this quality will help you to be a brilliant trial attorney some day. Frequently, you just go off on a jag and you are just talking and not even relaying information or aware that someone else is there with you. You just talk and talk and talk. This can go as long as 30 minutes at a time. When you do this with me and realize that I am still in the room and not listening anymore, you usually stop and say, “I’ll stop talking now. I know I talk too much, sorry.” Don’t ever stop talking to me, Robby. Talking is how you share what you think, feel and express love. Your voice is one that I will always want to hear.

Love,

Mama

Good Morning Yakima

Good Morning Yakima, a photo by dimplecheek on Flickr.

The Party is Over

The Party is Over, a photo by dimplecheek on Flickr.

What a Pickle - My Ride Along

As a Community Resource Team member of the Fire Services Delivery Investigation Project, I had an opportunity to do a "ride along" with the Vancouver Fire Department's Station 5 on Friday. After I dropped Robby off at school I arrived at Station 5 around 9:30 am. I was greeted by the four firefighters on "B" shift who staff Truck 5. I knew one of these men because he was one of the firefighters hired with the SAFER grant - one of the "SAFER 13". He took my purse and lunchbox and carried them upstairs while the other firefighters gave me a yellow vest to wear that said "Vancouver Fire Department Observer". They filled me in on their morning (they start their shift at 7am). They had already had a few calls, including one motor vehicle accident (MVA) fatality. Normally, station 5 is one of two stations that is staffed with both a firetruck and an engine. The crew of Engine 5 were away with the Heavy Rescue Unit also housed at station 5 (but not staffed). They were at a water training until later in the day, so all station 5 area calls would be handled by Truck 5. I was told we were heading off right away to go to Winco to get groceries for that night's dinner. They had been there earlier and had to drop everything and go on a call. We climbed into Truck 5 to head off to the store.

A fire truck has a different role at a fire than a fire engine. To really over-simplify it, a fire engine carries the water and a fire truck carries the ladders and tools. There are only two fire trucks in service in Vancouver; one at station 5 and the other at station 1, downtown. A truck is needed at every fire. Both trucks and engines take emergency medical service (EMS) calls. Vancouver Fire Department (VFD) currently staffs 3 firefighters on an engine and 4 firefighters on a truck. The truck needs a tillerman (driver in the back of the truck). Both Portland and Seattle staff 4 firefighters on an engine. The National Fire Protection Association (NFPA) recommends 4 firefighters per apparatus. VFD staffs well below the averages for the west coast and does not meet the national guidelines for staffing. (I'm not going to go off on that tangent here though. If you want more information on staffing levels Google NFPA 1710.)

I sat behind the driver of the truck. Next to me, in back, was the SAFER 13 recruit, riding shotgun was the Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) and the tillerman was in the back of the truck. In the truck, each person has a headset with a mic so everyone can communicate. On the ride to the grocery store, I learned that the City does not pay for food for the firefighters. The usual routine is each firefighter brings breakfast and lunch from home and they each put money in the "kitty" and buy groceries for their dinner, which they prepare at the fire station. It's not uncommon for them to be in the grocery store and have people come up to them, look in their shopping cart and say, "So, what's the City buying you guys for dinner tonight." When we went in the store, they wordlessly split up to do the shopping. I tagged along with one group as they recovered all the dropped items they had shopped for earlier. We met up with the other group, who had recovered their abandoned shopping cart. Tonight's menu was beans, coleslaw and smoked pork shoulder - to be served in mason jars. That's right, mason jars. The idea came from a food challenge seen on TV. I knew they were making a special meal on my account, and I couldn't wait for dinner.

We got the groceries back to the station and unloaded them. Prep started immediately. The meat went on the smoker and the veggies for the coleslaw were being cut when a call came in. A MVA with a medically questionable driver. I accomplished my goal of getting my ass up in the truck and not making anyone wait on me and we were off. Here was my view, as I sat in the back:

Next, the most startling realization of my day. So many people do not move to the right when an emergency vehicle is coming up behind them. I don't know if they had the music on so loud in the car (although there is no way the average car stereo can compete with the loud horns and sirens on that truck) or if they just didn't give a shit, but numerous cars did not pull over. In fact, we were passed TWICE. The next time you see those flashing lights and hear the horns and sirens, PLEASE, imagine they are on their way to save your child or mother and pull the car over to the right. The firefighters didn't get upset, didn't curse (although I think I did) but kept their cool and maneuvered that truck through traffic as safely as possible.

I had been told that I was not to get out of the truck at an accident scene, but this case allowed me to safely exit the truck onto a sidewalk and stay far enough away from traffic and the scene, so I got the clear to get out and observe. Again, the wordless teamwork of the firefighters took me by surprise. Each one instantly assessed the situation and went to work. All four of them were amazing. I know they train for situations and have gone out on numerous calls together, but it was still just amazing. It was like watching the infield of the 1974 Dodgers at the World Series - teamwork. The people involved in the accident even seemed to sense the calmness of this team and became calmer almost instantly.

Back at the station, I was being given a tour of the station when another call came in. When we returned, the tour resumed and I got to see where the firefighters sleep and shower.

 All I am going to say about this being where our firefighters sleep every three days is this:
 1. Google images of prison cells. 2. Compare.

Here's a shot of the three shower stalls that the seven firefighters share. The one on the right is out of order. There is a large crack in the bottom and it leaks below. The one in the center is operational. The one on the left is already occupied. Wanna see inside?

That's a lot of insects on the bottom the shower. Some of them could fly. They were coming out of the shower head.

I also toured the shop and saw where the firefighters do maintenance and simply repairs on their many tools.
After the tour, I thought about how the firefighters had given me the tour. Not once did anyone complain or go out of their way to point out something substandard. In fact, I was feeling rather like a royal shit for pointing out things I thought to be substandard. I would never dream of walking into a friend's house and  trashing their bedroom or the fact that they needed so many repairs. That's exactly what I had done though.  This was not just a fire station paid for with tax dollars. This was their house.

Then, it was off to see the recruit practice CPR with the assistance of a machine that analyzes when to stop compressions and shock the patient if necessary. The recruit even let me have a turn at chest compressions on the dummy and cal the shots. (He did a great job!)

There's a legend in the VFD of the "ride along curse". I guess many times, when there is a ride along, there are minimal or no calls. Several times I heard about a ride along where there were below normal calls and thirty minutes after the ride along was over a major fire call came in. The curse was elsewhere on Friday. As soon as we got back to the station, another call would come in. I went on EMS calls and MVA calls. There were no fire calls, although there was a commercial fire alarm call. Another unit was at the location and we ended up just monitoring the call until it was cleared.

After one EMS call, before we got back in the truck, they announced to the SAFER 13 recruit that they were "going on a call" at a 4 story building with smoke showing and a report of a person trapped on the 4th floor. They got in full gear, air and all and got in the truck. When we pulled back into station 5, there was a little smoke coming from the training tower. Before we were called out on our last call, they had set up a smoke machine and place a 180 pound dummy on the 4th floor for a training exercise. The recruit and a captain went into the structure in full gear while the other captain and our tillerman got the ladder ready to raise to the roof of the training tower. It was amazing to see each one perform their specific duties to get the ladder ready and raised as well as getting the necessary tools out and ready to go up the ladder to the roof.
Here's a shot of the tiller \]man going up the ladder.

The last photo is how far the tillerman got up the ladder before the next call came in. I am still awed at how quickly the ladder was down, tools away and we were pulling out of the station to get to the call. When we got back to the station, the ladder wasn't raised, but the captain and the recruit bolted up the tower in full gear to train the recruit on search and rescue. We got to go up behind them and see them carrying the heavy dummy down the four flights of stairs. We lingered at the top and I got to see how the thermal imaging tool is used to spot victims in a dark, smokey space.

We headed back to firehouse and dinner prep started. Engine 5 was back from training with the Heavy Rescue Unit and they got a call. I got to ride along with Engine 5 and her crew of three. It was an EMS call so I got to see how three responders worked vs four responders. It was very different riding in an engine. The truck rides more like a Hummer and the engine more like a sport coupe. One thing was the same - people just don't get the hell out of the way when an emergency vehicle is coming down the road.

When we returned to the fire station dinner was almost ready. The seven firefighters sat down at a long table and invited me to join them in one of the best meals I've had.

Yes, that's a dill pickle sticking up from the mason jar. The company was the only thing better than the food.

After dinner, I said my thanks and goodbyes and headed back to my life. I will never forget the day I shared with those firefighters. Every single person always acted as a true professional and a gentleman. I expected to learn a lot from my ride along. What I didn't expect was my pride and respect for these true heroes to grow even larger.

The Crazy Fire Lady (Part 2)

I have re-written this post several times. I have struggled with sharing the story, since it involves other people as well. As you read this, please remember that I can only share this experience from my perspective. I have no intentions of making my judgments yours or harming any one's reputation or character.

When I contacted the Fire Chief to express my concerns, he suggested that I talk to the local firefighters union president. Firefighters are city employees and what I took away from our correspondence was that a conflict of interest existed for city employees to help "fight" a city policy. He also shared that he felt the only thing that could keep the station from closing at this point would be public pleas to our city council.

I met with the Local IAFF president at a Starbucks early one morning after he finished his 24 hour shift at 7am. Another concerned resident of my neighborhood was there to meet him as well. I was not aware he was going to be there, so I was pleased I was not alone in my concerns with closing the fire station.

At this meeting, I learned that the City had also shut down 2 rescue units from another station in town a few months ago. I had no idea that had happened. Like many of us, I didn't pay much attention to my local government or politics. I could have walked past a city council member in the grocery store and not had a clue who it was. I always voted, read the paper but never really concentrated on the local level. I felt ashamed. How could I have not have even heard of this? I guess I could say it takes a lot of time and effort to raise a child, be a good wife and make the mortgage payment every month. I still felt ashamed at my apathy. I suggested we hold a rally in front of the fire station to get some attention to the pending closure. The union president said he could provide a few signs and could alert the news media of the rally. The other resident suggested a petition be circulated. We decided I would organize the rally and he would organize the petition.

I created the Facebook page "Save Fire Station 6 - Vancouver, WA" and listed contact information for the Mayor and City Council and urged people to contact them and attend the rally. (Today, 596 people have "liked" that page and receive updates.) I printed a one page flyer that stated the fire station was being closed due to budget cuts and urged people to contact our mayor and city council members, join our Facebook page and attend the coming rally in front of the fire station. Over 2,500 copies were hand delivered to the homes that Station 6 protected. Momentum increased and eventually we formed a PAC (political action committee) Friends of Fire Station 6. To this day, I still believe that it should not take a PAC to ensure government uses our tax dollars to provide core public safety services. It was an election year though, and getting politicians involved meant getting press and getting the word out to more people.

Now that we had a plan, I started to do some research on our fire department. The more research I did, the more shocked I became. Each new fact about our fire department was more disturbing than the last one. I discovered that our fire department was already staffed at half of what other cities our size in the state are. Insurance rates were virtually guaranteed to go up (as they had 8 years ago) due to the number of firefighters on duty. I learned that our fire department was WELL below the National and State guidelines for response times and staffing. I learned that these were only guidelines so that every local fire department could best determine their own needs and develop a "Standards of Coverage" of their own. I discovered that our fire department had drafted several Standards of Coverage over the years and not a single one had ever been presented to our city council.

"Well, all of that explains it", I thought. The city council members do not know any of these facts. They have never even seen a Standards Of Coverage to know how dismal our fire department is already. If they knew, there is no way they would consider cutting it even more. So, off I went to a city council meeting.

Our city council had (yes, had - a long story) a citizens communication (or CitCom) at the end of every council meeting for citizens to address the council. CitCom is televised to local viewers and although today I can say that I regularly laugh while watching, I was very intimidated at the thought of speaking there the first time. First, you know you are on live television. Aside from the does this shirt make me look fatter or do I have a booger hanging from my nose issues, you are standing at a podium under bright lights and facing 7 people in suits seated behind a long curved desk. I was sitting in the audience waiting for my turn to speak thinking about how I was going to put aside my insecurities and manage to say something half way intelligent so they would listen. The speaker at the podium's subject was tolls and the I-5 bridge crossing. Like I said before, it was a hot topic. Things turned very ugly while he was speaking. A council member began shouting at the speaker as well as the mayor and then she got up and walked out the room. (The video of this became a YouTube hit and eventually this incident was brought before an ethics committee and the council member was stripped of her board seats.) The speaker left the podium and then the mayor grabbed the next card and called my name out to come up and speak. I stood up and said, "Oh yeah, I get to follow that guy" and "Is she coming back?" on my way to the podium. I believe I nervously communicated what I had intended to, but obviously no one was really focused on what I was saying. All thoughts were on the huge bomb that had just exploded. Imagine my shock when I found myself sitting at the next table from the speaker at a local restaurant the next night. I learned a lot eavesdropping on his conversation.

Despite the rough start, I continued to go back and speak to the council over then next few months. The vote on the budget that would close the fire station was looming and I had to let them know what was going on. I had to find a "win" for them in keeping that station open. Let me say this though. Even though many people disagree with closing a fire station, most of them are not willing to go before the council and speak. I have talked to so many passionate people who find the process too intimidating or their schedules too busy. Some did go before the council as well, but mostly it was my face they saw before them in those months. At some point, I was afraid if mine was the only voice they heard, I would be viewed as "The Crazy Fire Lady" and the message would get lost.

The Crazy Fire Lady (Part One)

Wow. How is it possible I have neglected this blog for so long? Well, it all started last July...

I came home one evening and saw on the local news that they were planning on closing a fire station. "What?", I said to myself. "How could anyone ever even think that that would be the way to save money?" Then, they showed the station and I realized it was MY fire station. The crew from that station had responded so quickly the morning my mom had a heart attack. I saw them all the time in my neighborhood on calls or shopping for groceries right next to me at the Safeway.

Our City Council was having a town hall meeting the following week, so I decided to go and let them know that this was just outrageous. Somewhere in my mind, I thought it had to be a mistake or a political ploy or something. Seriously? Who would balance a budget by closing a fire station? Wouldn't that be political suicide for any politician? Does anyone remember the footage of the World Trade Centers on 9-11? It hasn't even been 10 years since the nation mourned those 343 firefighters who rushed in to save strangers and perished alongside them.

When John and I walked into the school auditorium for the town hall gathering, we were met with a large, angry crowd, most of whom had a "NO TOLLS!" sign in their hand. They were angry it seems because our Mayor had campaigned on a no tolls platform the past November and had just stated that it appeared tolls would be necessary to build a new bridge across the Columbia River into Portland (the I-5 bridge). Well, he won the election over the incumbent and now these folks felt cheated. Every question was about the bridge and tolls. John nudged me and said, "Stand up and talk - even if it isn't about tolls." Thanks to John, I did.

Imagine my shock when 6 of the 7 members of the council spoke to me about "what a hard decision closing the station was but it was necessary to keep other services from being cut completely". Now, I was not only baffled, but royally pissed off. What other service is higher on the list than our firefighters? That night I found out that not only were they planning on closing the fire station, they were going to eliminate 13 firefighter positions and 21 police officers from the force. I left that town hall meeting full of anger, disgust and determination and I didn't even have a clue that my life had just changed forever.

First Day of Kindergarten

Monday was Robby's first day of Kindergarten! Our daycare has an accredited Kindergarten program and Robby moved into that class. This will be Teacher Susan's fourth year teaching Kindergarten and she comes highly recommended. Transistioning him into the new class now will give him a few months to acclamate to new schedule before the curriculm starts in the fall. There will be twenty or fewer kids in his class so he will get a lot of individual attention. He turns five next month, making him one of the younger kids in the class.



Our school district only offers Kindergarten two half days a week and one addtional half day every other week. Driving him to school, then going to work, then picking him up at school and taking him to daycare, then going to work, then picking him up at daycare just doesn't fit into our schedule. At our assigned public school, some Kindergarteners didn't attend one single day last November due to holidays and teacher in service days. I am really disappointed in our school district for cutting Kindergarten to make the budget. I can think of so many things that should be in line for elimination before Kindergarten hours.

Robby woke up so excited and said, "Mama, did you forget today is my first day of Kindergarten?" He has a new backpack his grandma bought him this weekend and is so proud. John and I dropped him off together this morning. His classroom is in a historic old building and so charming and inviting. It's simply a great place to go to school. Robby is LOVING every second of it. He actually was upset when it was time to go home yesterday aternoon.

At his first birthday party I remember thinking that if I didn't give him his cake, he wouldn't be one and I could hold on to my baby just a little longer. I had those same feelings this morning. If we don't get out the door, he won't be a big school kid and I can hang on to my preschooler a little bit longer. It's gone by so fast and these little moments are the big milestones. I want to slow it all down so I can cherish them as long as possible.

Squeaky Cheese

For Father's Day we headed out to the Oregon Coast to explore. We started out at Cape Meares Lighthouse. It's one of nine lighthouses on the Oregon Coast. There is an amazing view from this lighthouse. We saw a bald eagle perched on a rock just offshore who later was tormenting seagulls along the cliffs. This is one of the shortest lighthouses. It sits atop a high cliff bluff at 217 feet above the ocean.



You may notice some of the glass panels look milky white. That's because in January someone shot the glass panels and damaged them and the light itself. It will cost half a million dollars to repair the lighthouse.

The lighthouse keepers washed the glass panes and polished all the brass every single day.


The lighthouse was decommissioned in 1963. Seven of the nine lighthouses on the Oregon Coast are still in use though. Today, an automated beacon with a GPS is used. (See the picture of the ugly concrete building below.)

This is a "modern lighthouse". Not so pretty.

Close by is the Octopus Tree.

It's estimated to be 250-300 years old. The debate rages on if it is a result of nature or if Native Americans formed the tree this way as it was growing for tribal rituals. I think it's really got an octopus inside of it.

Next we headed to Tillamook, Oregon to the Tillamook Cheese Factory. John and I have been here several times over the years and really enjoyed it. We wanted Robby to see them making the cheese and have the best soft serve ice cream we've ever eaten.

They've changed to visitor's center since we were last there. It's a lot more self-guided tour like. You can still look down at the processing floor and see vats of cheese in the making and cheese blocks moving along conveyor belts. Robby really thought this was cool. After looking at the processing floor, you can sample cheeses they make. God I love cheese.

Squeaky Cheese (or cheese curds) are always a favorite. They have a ton of them and they are cheap here. If you don't know why they call it squeaky cheese, try some and discover the squeaking sounds coming from your mouth as you chew.

They no longer have soft serve ice cream there. Once we picked ourselves off the floor from that disappointment we noticed they have every kind of ice cream Tillamook makes at their new ice cream stand. We each got ourselves a cone and sat down to enjoy. Tillamook makes a great tasting, quality ice cream. I highly recommend it.

We headed back home to have dinner and get ready for Monday, the first day of Kindergarten!

It was an amazing day and one of the best Father's Days I can remember in a long time.

Typical Morning Conversation

Robby: Dad, there's a spider in the car.

John: Is it a big spider or a little spider?

Robby: If it was a big spider I'd be talking a lot louder.

Coming Around Again

I have not posted in 6 months! How did this happen? I blame a WET spring, LOST, one of the best Survivor seasons ever, moving my mother TWICE and a general laziness on my part.

Mom and I took Robby fishing this past weekend for the first time. It was free fishing weekend in Oregon and we went to the Bonneville Dam Fish Hatchery. They hosted a fishing clinic on Saturday. Kids got to fish for free. Robby had to go to seven stations to learn all about fish, water safety and taking care of the watershed. The kids four and under got to fish in the big bins and the kids five and older got to fish in their stock ponds. Robby got two rainbow trout and was so excited you could actual feel it in the air around you.

Yeah, I caught two fish, Mama. I'm super cool!

He was so proud too!

I was amazed once again at the parents I saw. Twice Robby was pushed by an adult so that they could get in front of him. It reminded me of the Easter Egg Hunt a few years ago where all the adults rushed out to "help" their kids find eggs. Adults were grabbing eggs with two hands and most of the kids (including mine) didn't get to pick up one single egg and put it in their basket. Aren't these things supposed to be about the kids having fun? I don't get it. Those fish were not going anywhere. A grown man who pushes a four year old boy out of the way so he can see a trout before him deserves to be punched in the face. Period.

I remember catching my first fish. I caught four catfish! My great grandfather was there, as well as my grandparents. It was just outside of Parks, Arizona where my grandparents had an acre of land where we would spent our weekends escaping the heat of Phoenix. My grandma got an old curtain rod and hung them out on it so I could hold those four catfish up for a picture. I can still see that picture in my mind. I was wearing a striped shirt and I didn't wear glasses yet. My hair back in a ponytail. I remember how my grandmother looked taking that picture. She told me once to be still and NOT MOVE while she was taking my picture or she would CUT MY HEAD OFF. She meant cut my head off in the picture, but I took her literally. She never took one single blurry picture of me in my life as a result of that.

Robby got to share catching his first fish with his grandma just like I did. That should fill my heart with a sense of happiness and wonder at the circle of life. It does fill my heart - almost completely. I admit, part of the day I spent reflecting on how my grandmother missed this moment. She missed it not because she is dead, but because she has chosen to miss it. I tell that little girl inside me she missed it because she is sick. Dementia is so cruel not only to those whose brain it consumes but to the people around them who lose them and are robbed of those last years together. I tried to stay in the moment and be grateful that I got to spend the day with my son and my mother, but that little girl with the ponytail kept thinking about how her Nanny should be here to see this too.

Goodness Sakes!

Robby has attended daycare/preschool since he was a little over a year old. It was one of the hardest things for me to go back to work and not be a stay at home working mom. I'm lucky, as I own my own business and have some flexibility with hours. I know not every woman is so fortunate.

As you know, we switched schools about seven months ago. I have to say that I love this new school so much and I think we made the right choice. He has two certified teachers with him all day now and - get this - one of them is a man. This is the first time I had run across a male teacher in a preschool. Teacher Mike is incredible! Last week, the kids were lining up in the hall to go outside and one little boy was yelling and excited. Teacher Mike said, "Excuse me! Are you physically in pain?" "No." the little boy said. "Is the building on fire?" he asked. "No." the little boy said. "Did you just see Elvis?" Teacher Mike asked. "No." the boy said again. "Then there is no reason to be yelling in the hall!" Teacher Mike laughed. He is great with the kids and they adore him. He tells Robby he loves him when Robby leaves to go home every night.

The school also has a live webcam in all the rooms and playground. I can log in during the day and actually see Robby. That's been wonderful!

I guess my only complaint I have about the current school is security. Yeah, that's a big one. They have an electronic key system. Parents are given a card that will open the door when the card is placed in front of a sensor. The school policy is that if you lose your card, you pay a $10 replacement fee. Over the past few weeks I noticed that most parents do not use cards. They knock on the door until someone answers it. I've seen parents hold the door open for people that they do not know. They let strangers (without any kids with them) into the building without a thought. When this happens to me I always get a teacher and let the teacher let them in. I endure the glares and dirty looks from parents I don't know. I cannot for the life of me understand why they would be upset another parent is thinking about security in a building where their kids are.

I wrote Dumbledore (director of the school) an email letting her know that this was happening. I told her I felt it was a tragedy waiting to happen. I offered to help her find a solution at no or little cost. She responded with a one line email that said she would write a note to parents and thanks for my goodness.

Goodness? I see no goodness in wanting to make my kid and all the kids there safe. When you look at a mama bear growling to protect her cub, "goodness" is not what comes to mind.
She wrote a note to parents about 3 days later. A new note is posted on the door telling parents not to let anyone in they do not know. At least she did something.

Robby is downstairs in the school; far away from the front door. If he was in one of the upstairs rooms by the front door I probably would have pulled him out of the school.

Let's hope some things change now and every parent thinks about the security of their child rather than being late to work or getting home to cook dinner.

Five Things

Five things that bother me more than they should (in no particular order):

1. Stuffed animals in the back window of cars. I don't understand this. I've seen 30 or more sun-faded little animals on top of the back seat of many cars. Why?
2. Cabinet doors that are left open.
3. Toilet paper coming from the bottom of the roll instead of the top. I have been know to change the roll in other people's homes.
4. When I go to use 3 tab position file folders and someone has used all of the right position tab folders leaving only center and left tab position folders. Why don't they package these already collated?
5. Socks that are for shoe sizes 9 or less. That's all you can buy if you are a woman. Someone could make a million dollars marketing socks for women whose shoe size is 10 or higher.

True Colors

My Grandfather served in the army in WWII. He worked on the tarmac directing planes to and from the hangars. Well, he did this until they discovered he was "color-blind" and could not tell the red lights from the green lights. To his credit, the story goes he managed his duties a long while before anyone caught on.

My Grandfather had a form of red-green color deficiency that is carried with the x chromosome. Women ( xx) get this defective x chromosome but have a another "good" x to compensate for the "bad" one and are not effected. Men (xy) only get the defective x. Here's a link describing the whole process.

My Grandfather (xy) passed his color-blind x chromosome down to my mother (xx), who in turn gave one of them to me (xx) and one to my self-proclaimed "color-retarded" brother (xy). A few weeks ago we confirmed that I passed down one on my color-blind x chromosomes to Robby (xx). It's the gift that keeps on giving!

Robby can see red (in its purest form) with little problem, while my brother cannot. Robby cannot see green all the time. I have a feeling green and brown are two different names for the same color to him. Blue, orange, yellow, black and white he can see. Purple? Don't even go there! Orange causes occasional problems. When colors stray into shades and pastels they often get lost in translation to Robby.

Above is an Ishihara plate used to test for color-blindness. People without color deficiency see the number 8 while people with red-green deficiencies see the number 3 because they cannot differentiate between the green and brown circles.

Here, the majority of observers with red-green deficiencies see the number 73. The majority of observers with normal color vision see nothing at all! This is because normals' sense of color is actually masking the subtle brightness differences which color deficient observers use to see the number.

An example of how a person with a red-green color deficiency sees:

Robby can see reds, but the green and browns look a lot alike. Here's a great example from The Colorblind Photographer's website. Now I get why Robby's favorite color is yellow.

Something Big Was Gone

My friend lost her father last week, after an unexpected and cruel illness. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding, raised one hell of a woman and always made me laugh. I will miss him and I know he's somewhere causing trouble and getting a lot of laughs. I hope I can get my friend to come play on the swing set soon.

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong

'Cause all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone

Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold.

Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

- Springsteen

Rest in Peace, El Greato.

H1N1? R2D2?

When Robby was about 18 months old we went to Arizona to spend Christmas with my family. Two days before we left for the trip he went to the pediatrician and he got his first flu shot. Within 12 hours of landing in Arizona he was already showing flu symptoms and by the second day there we were at an urgent care in a strange city seeking help. He had never been that sick. He had fever, chapped face, congestion and double ear infections.

I was convinced it was the flu shot that had made him sick. I was still convinced when our pediatrician insisted that the shot did not make him sick. That feeling I get at my core, my "mama sense" just knew that flu shot did not go well with my kid. I know my son better than anyone, even if I don't have a medical degree. I know that anyone who has had a child develop autism after a vaccination will understand that statement. John, and most members of his family, have all gotten the flu right after receiving a flu shot. Not every child reacts well.

When I read Jenny McCarthy's book, it moved me beyond words. I believe in vaccinations and Robby has received all of his vaccinations. People who do not vaccinate their children rely on the rest of the world to vaccinate theirs, preventing an outbreak where their child would be vulnerable. When a mother says that her child was completely fine and then after a vaccine unable to communicate and the light was gone from their eyes I believe her. Completely.
More research needs to be done. I can understand the CDC does not want mass hysteria to stop parents from vaccinating their children. Clearly, the greater harm lies in not vaccinating. But when the CDC flat out discounts these mother's feelings and stories, I call bullshit. As a parent, I reject recommendations being presented as facts. Give me the facts, then give me your recommendations. Help me by giving me the information I need to make a decision for my child.
Telling me what to do while not giving me all the information is manipulation.

Has anyone else noticed how swine flu has become H1N1? Suddenly the media is only using H1N1 when referring to this strain of flu. I can't help but wonder why and how this all came about. There is a short supply of this vaccine and everyone is scrambling to get one. I have to ask myself if this "shortage" and the coverage of it was planned. In our area, there are long lines of people lining up outside of clinics that announce it has the vaccination available. I've seen news footage of it here locally and in other parts of the country. I went with my mother to her cardiology appointment and when she asked if she should get a flu shot her doctor said that she most likely could not get one as even he and his colleagues at the hospital could not due to the shortage.

I try not to be a conspiracy theory lunatic (like my husband). At the same time, I don't want to be a sheep either. Clorox and Lysol are even using this flu scare to sell more of their products. I can't wait to see what other ways this flu scare will influence advertising. So much media input is bound to influence us in some way. I've actually decided against indoor public playgrounds for a while. I use hand sanitizer more. People have gotten ill. People have died. I don't want my child to get this flu. No of us do.

Ultimately, the decision whether or not to get a flu shot for your child falls to you, the parent. More than one parent has asked me what my decision is. I've told them that we decided against a flu shot but that they should get as much information as they can and make the decision they feel is right for their child. I tell them to get as much information as they can. Here is what the CDC says. I also tell them not to buy into the guilt either way. If they do not get a flu shot and their child develops flu, don't blame yourself. If you do give your child a flu shot and they get sick, don't blame yourself. Easier said than done.

Shame on Maine!!!

This is why the Founding Fathers insisted on separation of church from state. This is how this country was founded. They left England for this very reason.

I do not feel secure in my freedom, my basic rights or my child's future today. I am mad and I am scared. I think you should be too.

Equal rights, for all. PERIOD. Let's evolve as a society. Don't you people watch Star Trek?

If you think that these religious leaders are doing anything but selling fear and hate all tied up with a pretty red bow that says "Jesus" on it, you need to pay attention because they will come after you next. They've already started coming for women and their rights. All in the name of God.

And what about the children you say? Read this. I can't say it any better.

Please. Please. PLEASE! Do something today. Talk about this with someone; with everyone!
The time has come. Let's take the gloves off and stand for what is right and what this country was meant to be. My child, your child, their children all deserve the best world we can give them. If you can stop using Styrofoam, you can at least quit buying into all the hate and fear!

Spies Like Us

(This adorable picture of Robby all dressed up and ready to go trick-or-treating will hopefully make up for the next picture you will see.)

Every year my brother, Uncle Mike, and his lovely wife Aunt Jeanette throw the most amazing Halloween party. Every year gets better and better and the decorations gets more elaborate every year. This year, the bathroom had an evil clown theme that will give me many nightmares in the coming months. Uncle Mike LOVES zombies. In fact, one of Robby's first words was BRAINS! in a monsterly voice. I knew our costumes had to be worthy of this party because this is the guy who would be hosting:




Again, I apologize. Note the bloody mouth from the blood capsules. Like I said, NIGHTMARES!


I started making costumes for The Papa and I a week before the party. With my schedule, this is serious planning. I paper mache'd and glued myself into a frenzy most nights. I want to go on record right now that black duct taped saved the costumes and my life. Thank you black duct tape!

Can you guess the costume? First the props:




And then...

Next...


Then...


Make this!



SPY VS SPY !!!

John was the black spy and I was the white spy. We had a great time at the party, mostly because it is hard to eat bloody fingers and drink ghoul punch with a big cone on your face.

We're Starting Up a Brand New Day

Today, I will marry the man I love more than life...for the second time. Having looked at life without him I have found the one reason that makes all of the pain, all the tears shed and all of the voices that cry "don't" seem diminished. I am following my heart and choosing to live a life full of all the love I can stand. It's a leap of faith and those I have taken in the past have made me stronger and more whole. I don't want to spend my life in a bubble.

I want more than just a dream to tell.

Your thoughts, prayers, friendship, happiness and love are welcome to join us in this...

Brand New Day

How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair?
And how many times did you swear
That you'd never love again?
How many lonely, sleepless nights?
How many lies, how many fights?
And why would you want to
Put yourself through all of that again?

"Love is pain," I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way of
Paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain
How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again

One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
Or you could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile you've been thinking of all day?

Why don't we turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if she'll take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, sister
You'll never know how much I missed her
I'm starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
We're starting up a brand new day

It could happen to you,
Just like it happened to me,
There's simply no immunity
There's no guarantee.
I say love's such a force if you find yourself in it
You need some time for reflection
You say, baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute

Turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, Mac
I'm begging her to take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero buddy
Don't wanna be no fuddy duddy
Started up a brand new day

I'm the rhythm in your tune
I'm the sun and you're the moon
I'm the bat and you're the cave
You're the beach and I'm the wave
I'm the plow and you're the land
You're the glove and I'm the hand
I'm the train and you're the station
I'm a flagpole to your nation - yeah

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

I'm the present to your future
You're the wound and I'm the suture
You're the magnet to my pole
I'm the devil in your soul
You're the pupil I'm the teacher
You're the church and I'm the preacher
You're the flower I'm the rain
You're the tunnel I'm the train

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

You're the crop to my rotation
You're the sum of my equation
I'm the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We can turn this ship around
We'll go up instead of down
You're the pan and I'm the handle
You're the flame and I'm the candle

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
We're starting up a brand new day
- Sting

Little House on the Cul De Sac

Last Sunday we went to the Mt. View Orchard in Hood River, Oregon. We decided to pick us some apples and pears and can them. It was a beautiful drive with all the fall colors out in full force. The Columbia Gorge is amazing anytime of the year and something you really should see if you are in the area.
Mt. View Orchard and Fruit Stand is an amazing place. The owners are nice and helpful. You can pick your own fruit or just fill up boxes from the what seems like hundreds of bins already packed with picked fruit. I never knew there were so many varieties of apples and pears!

Robby insisted we pick our own, so we were off to the orchard. There were plenty of trees with apples low enough for him to reach.

They had a mini play area for the kids, but wouldn't let us take the John Deere out to the orchard.
It didn't matter, we had a wagon, a box and a little four year old who was as excited as I've seen him.

We moved from tree to tree and got at least four different varieties of apples into our box.

We hauled our apples back to the stand to pay for all thirty four pounds of apples! We also got about ten pounds of pears when we saw a jar of pear butter for sale at the fruit stand. We've made apple butter before so pear butter sounded like a good idea as well.

We started peeling, coring and slicing 34 pounds of apples. After an hour of doing this, it became apparent we would need a very large container to hold them all and allow them to soak all night.
We pored the 10 cups we had so far into a large plastic storage bin.


And then we cut some more. And then we got out the peeler/corer/slicer we borrowed from one of Grandma's co-workers (Thanks Sandy!). This made things a lot faster and made a huge mess!
Robby loved cranking the handle for about three of the apples and then grew bored with the whole process.

Finally we had all thirty four pounds of apples sliced and in the bin. We added sugar, stirred and let them sit covered overnight to soak in their own juice.



It was a really great feeling to finally see the empty box three hours later!

Robby helped for a while and then entertained us by showing us how he could put puzzles together on the kitchen floor. Firetrucks are a lot cooler than apples and canning.

The next day we (mostly The Grandma) got the apples and juice into 20 quart jars and hot bathed them into a beautiful sight.

We have done this in the past and we just love how we can take a jar of these out at any time of the year and make an apple pie using "fresh" sweet apples. I've never tasted a better apple pie than the ones that come from using these canned apples.

Next came the pears! We peeled, cored and chopped all them by hand this time. It went pretty quick compared to the apples. We put the chopped pears into the food processor and pureed them into pear sauce.

When we filled up our crock pot and still had pears left over, it was time to go knocking on the neighbor's door to borrow a crock pot. Living on a cul de sac is great for knowing your neighbors. Most of the time.
Thanks to my neighbor we had two crock pots to finish. We added cinnamon and sugar (only a cup and a half per crock pot!) and let them bubble all night. I visited Ree's site to get recipe ideas on how to make this amazing pear butter. She just finished her first cookbook and I can't wait to get one!

I have to admit the best part of making pear butter is how it makes your whole house smell delicious.

The next morning the butter was reduced by half and ready to go into jars. We got a total of 12 half pint (8 oz.) jars.

Four of the jars were shorter and wider and were so cute The Grandma couldn't resist buying them and paying $1 each for the jars. Money well spent if you ask me!

Now the job at hand is not eating all of these ourselves and saving some to give as presents this holiday season!