Forum Family Fix 2009 and its aftermath

The TC-Cancer online support forum had its annual get together on July 4th in New Jersey. I hadn't been to one before, but since we had extra mandatory vacation days tacked onto the holiday weekend, I decided to make the trek (just me this time, next time it will be a family affair).

What a blast! Probably about 30 survivors, supporters and kids came and we partied until the wee hours of the morning. New friends were made and old friendships were renewed. It's a group of folks who, were it not for the connection through testicular cancer, probably would have no reason to meet and talk. As one of the participants shared:

I can't help feeling like everyone here is very much an extended family to me. I'll never be happy that cancer entered my life. But I can't help feeling very fortunate indeed for having found so many beautiful people, each so unique and special, because of it.

For me at least, there wasn't a lot of emotion connected with our gathering at the time, just folks having a good time. Then there was the next day.

I was in New York Sunday morning to kill time before my flight. I was dropped off in Midtown (about 56th and 6th Ave) with another couple from the group who was staying in the city for a couple of extra days. So I was walking down 5th Ave and passed a Presbyterian church. I found myself wondering, "maybe there's a Methodist church nearby..." so I whipped out the phone and did a search. Boom, there's Christ Church UMC at 60th and Park Ave, about 8 blocks from where I was. And, as it turned out, they had a service starting at 11 (it was about 5 past at the time). I hauled a$$ over to the church and took a seat near the back, about 10 minutes into the service.

The Scripture readings for the day and the sermon were all about being strong in our broken places. The preacher also quoted from Maya Angelou's poem read at President Clinton's first inauguration: “History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived but, if faced with courage, need not be lived again." It dovetailed so well with the sentiment expressed at our gathering of those touched by testicular cancer that I found myself overcome with emotion. Joining in the celebration of communion just took the emotion to the next level.

After the service, I basked for a while in the beautiful weather in Central Park with a sense of grace, peace, and serenity, thankful that I have been blessed to join a group who have been able to help me (and many others) find strength in a time of weakness. Can't wait for the next one!

Flipping cancer the bird

Jan 09

pics taken in early Jan. He's been a bit on the move of late and I've not been able to grab a camera as often. . .

First Hair Cut

It was bound to happen.
It needed to happen.
I didn't want to do it.
We went to the $10 hair cut place that Frank's been going to since we moved. A nice middle eastern man name Ali (yes Ali the barber), cut Zane's angel hair locks.


It was a full on trip to the barber, wet down, cut, blow dry, even trimmers around his ears and nape of the neck. From the time stamps on my pictures it took about 20 minutes! And he was great about it!

The wet down.

Taking a little off the sides.

And some more.

Looking down for the bangs to be cut.

With Daddy, right after he got out of the chair.

The back after it was done.

I'm not into crew cuts for my little boy. Frank sports one nowadays because chemo left his hair a different texture. I just think Z looks better with some hair, and there's a chance that his curls wouldn't all go away, which, it appears they have not!

lazy days of summer

So, you'd never know it's summer by the thermometer here in Chicago. Seriously I hope we don't pay for this with a bitterly cold winter.


We've been busy, going to the beach in Fl (which also was not unbearably hot) for the 4th of July, hosting family and friends back here at home.












He loves to mow. Outside and in.























Zane continues to be a learning machine. He babbles away. Words are still not completely understandable, except for "truckKKKKK", but the sign language I've taught him has come in handy as he UNDERSTANDS a lot more than he can talk about.For instance, he know to sit down when he wants to play his rythm sticks, or have his shoes put on. Plops right down in fact. He really enjoys both.

He loves anything that has to do with water:

He loves to boogie, dancing to whatever music is at hand: a commercial on the TV, a song on the ipod, a passing car playing Latin salsa or rap music. He's got the music in him and it makes his daddy VERY happy. Me too, it's just plain fun to watch him spinning around to the music.

Last night we got to take in one of Chicago's many free offerings: a Bossa Nova concert at Millennium Park. We put a blanket out on the lawn and Zane made everyone around us smile w/ his twirling/dancing/flirting.

Zane Update

Thirteen months old!
Am I superstitious? No.
Am I watching him like a hawk? Yes!

Our wonderful little Mr. Mischief (thanks Auntie S for the t-shirt btw) is into EVERYTHING, most often has either a ball or a stick or both in his hands and loves to rearrange furniture so he can climb higher and higher.

Good thing I'm watching him like a high flying bird, eh?

And ooh, ick, he's found his eyelashes and LOVES to touch them. It looks like he's playing with is eyeball and that just plain grosses me out. No I don't and won't ever wear contacts...

Yesterday he had his 12 (ok, 13) month check up.
He's 21 # and 10.5 oz
30.5 inches tall
and his head circumference is 46.5 cm

All average. Good thing he's above average in being cute and climbing on things!

He got a blood stick to his finger to check his lead level and hemoglobin, it took a while to start bleeding and then there was blood everywhere. (I get my propensity for exaggeration from my mother...) Quite wiggly and he'd rather not have a band aid on his finger, thank you very much, he pulled 4 off before we just decided he was almost done bleeding and that he was just bleeding on ME.

He also had a TB test, it took three sticks to get it under the skin in the right place. Did I mention he's wiggly? I'll have to call back on Wed to report it the injection site has a bubble or not.

Then there were his immunizations. Three more sticks in total. And three more band aids, but since these were on his chubby legs and I quickly covered them with his pants. And THANK GOD I found his immunization records -- only took me about 8 hours, staying up late last night and annoying Frank, but I finally found it about an hour before we had to leave this morning. I KNEW I'd put it in a safe place, but I didn't know HOW safe! I have now made multiple copies and will put them in various places around the house.

The bright spot of the visit was when the Dr. came in and started talking baby gibberish (sounded like a Slavic language to me) with wild gestures. I said to Zane, "He's speaking your language! How cool is that!" Zane thought he was very, very funny. It made him so comfortable that when the Dr. approached w/ tongue depressor Zane just smiled, mouth tightly shut. Dr. said, "this is where you're supposed to cry and scream so I can see inside your mouth." I tickled him instead and it did the trick.

Good news for me: this Pediatrician that we found (who is the Director of Peds dept.) is leaving Northwestern (read 45 minute drive to downtown) and moving to the hospital in our NEIGHBORHOOD (5-10 minutes away!) to be their Director of Pediatrics. As he puts it, It's a "community hospital on the north side in an area that needs more pediatric programs and services. They are eager to develop top quality pediatric services, and they've hired me to help get it done."

As as you know, I'm a sucker for a guy who wants to tackle a complex difficult task and also KNOWS he can do a good job. And one that can speak my kid's language! Well, we of course will be staying with him.

Now I just need to work on figuring out and implementing a new food schedule / routine for he is now cleared to eat anything, but only really loves fruit. He also needs to be weaned from the bottle. I'm really going to miss feeding him his bottle!

Yes, this is now what my days consist of and I'm really loving it!

Now the eye candy:


Picture #1:
Chair surfing, it's all the rage. Hey kid, you missed a spot. I really need to have him work on his dusting technique.



Picture #2
Mr. Cheese. Every time he sees a camera he not only squints up the eyes, but but flashes his 6 teeth!

This is his 1st P,B & J sandwich. (I know, gasp! peanut butter. The APA just "unrecommended" their wait until 3 yo rule on nuts/fish/ect. His Dr. also told me yesterday that he never thought it was a wise ruling as there wasn't enough data to support the ban. I LOVE pnb and I'm glad I've got a quick, easy, portable meal I can give him!)

He ate it from the center of the sandwich out. Who says my kid doesn't think outside the box?







Picture #3
And, if you thought he couldn't get cheesier.
<--Observe. Or peanuttier! You can't see what he put into his hair. Needless to say we went right to the bath tub after this meal. Both of us giggling. He's such a happy kid! Next time I'll give him pieces of the sandwich, not the whole thing....live and learn Mommy, live and learn! Have a good day every one!

Zane's latest trick

No other comments necessary, I think.

Adoption Day!

Wednesday October 3, 2007

Having reviewed the paperwork, seen us and the kid in person, the judge deemed us “fit parents for this child” and ruled that his name be officially changed and a new birth certificate awarded.

We couldn’t be happier!

With us in the court room were my parents and sister, and good friend Daniel, who happens to be the pastor at the church next door to the courthouse.

Thank you to all who helped pray for this day to be a reality. We celebrated the day with dinner at a local Chinese restaurant. We figure no matter where we land in the years to come, there will always be a Chinese restaurant we can go to.

Here is a picture of us and the boy.

highs and lows

Frank's dad snapped this shot on Saturday during the worship service. It is of our friend Daniel pouring the water into the font for Zane's baptism.

Daniel's preaching and pastoring showered our family and all present with God's grace and love. (Plus, he got to say "poop" from the pulpit!)

Our friend Alex's lullaby in Portuguese was stunning and beautiful.

Thanks to all who were there in body and spirit. We are truly blessed with Z in our life.

In other news, Z began day care this week.
He started it like this:



















Momma started it like this:

I hear it gets better.

He won't use up all his smiles on the cute girls watching him, will he?






The Rev.

Slogging through Babyland

Well, Zane is just over a month old and has already made his first airplane trip (although I am a bit put out that it was in a cigar tube airliner and not with his Daddy in the pilot's seat). The Rev. and Zane visited her parents for a couple of days, then flew down today to visit my folks for the next week, as well as Zane's cousins (6 of them now, to be 8 later this year). For the Rev. it is a preview of our family's beach week this coming summer, where we'll have four toddlers ages 1 to 1 1/2, a 2 1/2-year old, a 6-year old, Zane, and 10 adults (one of whom will be pregnant with twins). Her assessment is that we should all sleep well because it will be pandemonium during the day. Eventually we may have a fun condo and a time-out condo, but this year it will be sheer madness.

So, I'm batching it with the dog for the next week. I plan to get some sleep, but I can't help thinking I'm missing out on the fun. Still, sleep is good. Next up for us is a trip to Louisville over Mother's Day weekend. It's the weekend after the Derby, so hopefully the city should be somewhat back to normal.

anonymous

Maybe you are visiting because you have followed a link from a mean spirited “troll” who copied a recent post that I made here on his/her blog (the author is anonymous). If that is the route that found you here, then welcome. I invite you to read through our posts from the beginning. Know that we write to share our story--our life with and following my husband’s battle with testicular cancer.

We are blessed to have a huge number of people, family and friends, who keep us in their thoughts and prayers. Using a blog to communicate with them is one of the gifts of modern technology. We hope that if you are going through similar difficulties times in your life that our honest sharing is something that can help you find wholeness during a stressful time.

If you are one who follows our blog, please know that I’m not sharing the "troll's" site address because I do not want to support or advertise the thoughts of an unfortunate soul who seems to have problems with adoption, the church, people of faith, and a whole host of other issues AND who hides behind the veil of “anonymous.” I find it to be cowardly: it doesn’t allow conversation, just verbal arrows shot from a heart that would be empty save all the hate that is held within and shared, “anonymously”, with the world. I do, in all seriousness, hope that whoever it is has someone other than the world wide web to speak to about the things that are troubling them.

I debated about even responding to his/her post. To respond gives power to the other, but not responding can make one feel powerless. And if you are someone who frequents this site, you know that I’m someone who likes conversation, not anonymous mean spirited attacks. I am taking back my power and standing up for my right to share openly and honestly what is happening in our lives, it's our blog after all.

Said blogger commented on my most recent post. It was posted to our site less than 30 minutes after I’d blogged. It was so scathing that Frank deleted it before he even let me read it. He does not usually protect me in this way, so I can only imagine what it said. (He is also much better at dismissing people who don’t share his perspective than I am. I’m softer than him in that respect, I dwell on things. It is who I am.)

Frank, gifted surfer of the web, was able to track the source of the post to the blog where I found myself quoted (out of context of our story) and ripped on. It is one thing to disagree in the context of a conversation, but it is mean spirited to “proof text” or take out of context (what so many Christians unfortunately do to prove their well intentioned however erroneous points) part of a story and pass judgment on a person’s character and profession.

Frank posted, with full disclosure of who he was, to this person’s site inviting him into conversation. S/he erased his comment quicker than s/he was erased by Frank on this site! Conversation halted by the one who seemed so eager to point out how wrong, selfish, mean, and hypocritical I am. Hmmm.

As a clergy women I have never claimed to be anything other than human, complete with all the complex issues that everyone faces. I’m not immune to selfishness*, nor pain. It is thought the grace of God that I work and strive to be in right relationship with God and neighbor. But, if you are anonymous, you, neighbor, prevent that relationship from ever having a chance.

So, all that is to say that we have no intention of engaging in fruitless battles where everyone ends up loosing, and thus we are limiting our comments section to those who will identify themselves in a way that can lead to conversation. That does not mean you have to agree with what we say, for everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but you have to have the balls, or in the TC world—the ball, to claim your ideas and the arrows you sling with them as your own, not some cowardly anonymous doofus.

*As an aside, I do not feel my/our desire to adopt an infant is selfish. I view those who have attempted the adoption process after not being able to conceive themselves as brave and courageous.

For most of the world, it doesn’t take much to make a baby, but if what you have doesn’t work, and if you desire to share and grow a life with your partner, and you have the means to do so—it is in some cases selfish not to.

The many layers of paperwork and questioning that couples go through to get to where we are is astounding. There is a “reasonable” reason for everything from personal financial records to a note from the vet saying that that household pet is up to date on shots. The reality remains that people whose “parts” work rarely if ever have to justify to the government that they are fit to be parents. To actively purse adoption means that you’ve overcome or are at least dealing with in a healthy way a lot of anger—at your body, at the system, etc.

Therefore the choice to enter this process is a very personal decision for each person or couple. From the adoptive parents' perspective, each has to determine the threshold of heartache, the willingness to lay your heart out, open to be able to accept a blessing or be prepared for it to be smashed into the ground. It is knowing that what ends up being “best” for the baby may be something other than what you thought it should be. It is about being “all in”, knowing that there may be pieces of your heart that will never be gathered up together again, and that is ok. I’ve heard it said that being a parent is like having your heart walking around outside of your body. For adoptive parents, that often begins years before their child is even conceived.

Additionally, I have GREAT respect for OUR birth mom. We would not be where we are or who we are with out her. She is doing something that I could never imagine doing. I may not always agree with her choices, but I respect that they are hers to make. Frank and I are doing everything with in our power (and within what the state law allows us to do) that we can to support her. Her time is close, she is, to quote her “so done with being pregnant.” We recognize that there are still things that could happen and this is not a “done deal” by any means. We just want to be parents. If she is carrying the child we are to parent, then it will all work out. If not, we’ll grieve what we'd hoped and longed for, regroup and move on. I have faith, I have hope that at some point, at some time we are to give a significant portion of our life to help someone grow into an amazing person.

We did get to see the baby blink, look around, and "breathe" on the ultra sound yesterday! Wasn't the 3D one though, the little stinker faced backward during that one last week. He's coming right along.

So much for trolls.

-the rev

P.S. As of the evening of February 28, the troll's website has been closed to nonregistered users.
Vinny

The roller coaster continues.

Life marches on. Frank had a CT and blood work done today. Based on some advice he received from other TCers, he mixed the CT contrast shake with some raspberry Crystal Light. When asked if it tasted better he said yes. However, he had to begin drinking it at 4:30am, so he may have been too asleep to even taste it. (Frank here: By the way, they tried using a different IV contrast dye today and there was no horn! The CT tech marked it on my folder and said in the future to make sure and ask for the "special sauce". Not sure I want to know...)

After the appointment he’s told me that all looks normal. Good. It’s good that one thing looks normal because so much of our life happens so fast that I don’t think I really know what normal really is.

We spent last week resting at Frank’s parents’ home. It was a good week. In addition to being able to be complete vegetables in a quiet space (who knew that sleep deprivation began only three days into having an infant at home?), we also got to spend time with children who will be in our lives for a long time.

The triplets (our niece and two nephews) that I baptized at the end of July had doubled in size. One of them was beginning to recognize that there were other babies in the crib with him. It is amazing how fast they grow. My nephew who turns 2 this week was ok with his mama not being around and Frank and I got to bond with him while he watched train videos that Frank Googled on the internet.

I needed something to do with my hands and I started a cross stitch kit. My niece who has begun kindergarten helped with a few of the stitches as she was fascinated by the sewing part of it. I worked on it a lot, including during turbulence on our ride home. It is almost finished, but I fear that I will leave it unfinished as my life marches on and I don’t seem to be able to find (or to take) the time to sit down and just be.

Taking wise advice from one of the elders in Frank’s flight club, we mailed all the baby stuff back to MO before we left VA, so as to lighten our load, emotionally and physically. I picked the box up yesterday afternoon. It sits unopened in the baby’s room. I know that there will come a day when I don't think about Vincent. And then it will be a few days, and time will march on and there will be a small person in our life that will be the recipient of our love and affection and “Mini Vinny” will be a wisp of a passing thought. However, in the mean time, it is proving to be hard to sit at my desk, or even sit in a group and not have my mind wander to thoughts of him. Part of me wants to open the box to look at his hospital pictures; another part doesn't want to open that part of my heart open again. Such is grief. It just has to be muddled through. There is not quick route to get around it.

For the record we are ok and have peace that the baby is in a good home. But, worry is still in the back of my mind. In the state of Virginia the birth mom has 15 days to change her mind after waiting the 10 days before terminating parental rights; a total of 25 days at the earliest. The baby was born on August 27, if everything happened as soon as it could, that new family is still waiting on pins and needles until September 22 to be “in the clear”. Maybe that date will be a date of peace for me too, although we have no legal rights to know how or what is transpiring.
Trust and faith.

We will be attending the local Adoptive Parents Network meeting this Thursday night. If I had any doubts about our place/right/worthiness to be there (probably just some of those normal jitters when you are “new” at something), they are gone. While our time with Vincent didn’t end the way we hoped it would, we have entered the world of being adoptive parents.

Folks say being a parent will change your life. Some say it with a “Ha ha ha, you have no idea what you are getting into” look in their eyes. I think we do. My experience of this process is that there is a lot more thought and intention than that the "normal" way of starting a family. How many people do you know have to have a social worker come into your home do an interview, hire lawyers, wait for someone to pick you, and then have a judge approve that you are ok parents including that your house pet has had all of its shots up to date? (How does one give a fish a shot? Just kidding, no I have not gone out and purchased another pet.)

We are ready, we are still on the roller coaster that is adoption. I plan to hang on even though the ride may get rough. In the end, I plan on looking at Frank and saying, "What a ride, I'm glad we did it together!"

Thank you to all who have supported us, it means a lot.
The Rev.

We're Back!

We are back from the beach and had a great week with Frank's family.
7 adults, 5 children (3@ 3.5 months, 1@ 20 months, and 1 who starts kindergarten soon), 2 condos, a pool and the ocean. We also got to meet the 7.5 month old who lives about an hour north of where we were staying. Then we all caravanned back to Atlanta for the baptisms of the triplets on Sunday morning.
What an amazing family I get to be a part of and what a blessing to baptize the latest additions! (I used a black shell that Frank and I had found on the beach Friday morning to do the baptism)
I have now had my "baby Jones" fired up and am getting even more ready for when ours comes home.
Thanks to all who held down the fort while we were away.
The Rev.

The Weather Outside

Yes, it is stupidly hot here this week. Temps over 100, with heat indices in the 110-115 range. It's also Vacation Bible School Week at the church, featuring an outdoor sand dune for "archeological digs". It looks a bit more like Death Valley than the Sinai, mainly because of some of the added "treasures": elephant femur, rhino skull, etc. Fortunately, no incidents of heat stroke thus far.

To add to the weather fun, Wednesday night St. Louis was pounded by intense storms that knocked out power all over the metro area. We got an early morning phone call from the Rev.'s parents:

"How much freezer space do you have?"

Apparently, their house will be without electricity for the next five days or so, and they have a treasure trove of frozen meat (that the Rev.'s mom bought off the back of a roving pickup truck, but that's another story) that needs a temporary home. So our freezer, and perhaps freezers at the church, will be filled up for a little while, and the in-laws will stay at the lake.

Meanwhile, we're going to the beach for vacation next week. My folks made an executive decision to switch from the Gulf Coast to the Atlantic Coast for a change of scenery (not to mention the fact that the Gulf Coast beaches have had to be replenished several times recently due to hurricane damage). We'll spend a week with the nieces and nephews (4 of whom are under a year old) then head back up to Atlanta where the Rev. will baptize the triplets.

No news on the adoption front lately, so we won't be adding any insanity (child-wise) to the beach mix this year.

Picking up steam

Well, it's been two weeks since my VATS procedure, and I'm working my way back up to what I would consider normal. This weekend was a test - the chorale sang Beethoven's 9th on Saturday night and then we got on a bus Sunday to perform again at a church in Kansas City. It was a full weekend, and other than briefly resting my eyes during the first 3 movements of the symphony on Sunday, I didn't really rest at all (OK, the Rev says we took a 1 1/2 hour nap on Saturday, but SINCE THEN...). Of course, the Rev deputized several of my fellow singers as wardens-in-training to make sure I didn't exert myself physically beyond singing (and playing triangle).

Nobody saw me doing minor electrical repairs when we were moving stuff around at the KC location, though, and I did manage to carry a 2-pound bass drum stand without any devastating effects (but that was duly ratted out to the Rev upon our return).

The past couple of days I've spent 4-plus hours at work, not counting what I do at home with the power of the internet. I may try to fly this afternoon (first time since surgery), if the weather gods cooperate.

The true test of my recovery starts tomorrow when my brother comes to town for a few days. The last time he was here was after my RPLND, and he dragged me to the new Bass Pro Shops to look at fishing junk. We were there for several hours, and I ALMOST DIED! But then again, I hate shopping, and was still moving relatively slowly at that time.

Doctor visits take place in a couple of weeks. Hopefully, no news until then!

One Year Later....

One year

365 days

(ok, minus a few hours)

Last year on this date, December 27, 2004 at 1:30pm I accompanied Frank on a visit to an urologist. We waited for a VERY LONG TIME in an office where we brought the average age down to oh, say about 65, and then we waited some more in an exam room where I began my education (from the posters on the wall in the exam room) on the male’s urology system and the different types of kidney stones one can have. Those posters are not suppose to scare you are they? Cause I never want to play with a set of jacks again.

Upon the entrance of the venerable Dr., our Frank “dropped trou” and said Dr. pronounced a diagnosis:

testicular cancer.

It was stunning, and not in the, "have you seen the latest fashion line, it’s stunning," sense of the word.

The afternoon Zombie like we wandered the halls of the hospital where Frank got to meet the nice ultra sound wand up close and personal. We also got to walk the results back to the Dr.’s office and INSISTED that he read them for us then and there. Yep, one was evil and diseased and the other, well, was just a dumb nut.

So began a journey that I never thought I’d take, never wanted to volunteer to take, but don’t begrudge that I had to take it because the reward was well worth the journey: Frank is still with all of us.

Thank you to each of you for having supported and walked with us this past year; it is a blessing to be able to know of the love and support that we have surrounding us.

Now, I just have to tell you about the most wonderful Christmas Day: Sunday, December 25, 2005.

Yes, we had church. AND we had decent attendance for a day when other churches thought it a good idea to be closed.

We, and by we I mean my mom (and a helpful cook in the church who had back up in case we needed more--we did!), made cinnamon rolls for everyone who came to church. Instead of Sunday School we had a fellowship time where everyone sugared up. It was delicious!

BUT the most amazing part was that everyone had been invited to bring a wrapped gift for baby Jesus; something that could be part of a baby layette kit or a baby bundle (page #14) for missions.

The manger was overflowing with gifts!

I tried to share a meaningful children’s sermon trying to equate how hard it is for us to talk to ants vs. how hard it is for God to talk to us and that is why he sent Jesus—I even had glow in the dark bugs for the kids to have—but mostly they were amazed that I’d even consider talking to ant, b/c it would bite you, especially the red ones, and when I tried to say we were kind of like ants, one young one said, I don’t want to be an ant, I’d get squashed by somebody’s thumb!

Admitting defeat (or at least recognizing that the cinnamon rolls and candy before church were working their sugary magic) I thought it best to move on to the presents.

There were enough gifts for baby Jesus each child to open 2 or three. They tore into them and were excited that baby Jesus was going to give them to other babies who needed them. Then they started showing me what they were unwrapping and I appropriately express astonishment and wonder at each thing presented to me.

“Ohh diapers!”

“Wow a sleeper!”

“Look oneises!”

“What a soft blanket!” (A sweet 4 year old wanted to keep the flufy pink one for herself--it was very soft and very pink, and she did ask very nicely. She is also the one who almost had a sit-in in my office because I wouldn't let her take one of the lady bug stones I have in a fountain in my office; I've since learned that she has given tours of my office to her grandparents to show them the lady bugs. *grin* Oh, I did not let her have the blanket either.)

At some point there were more hands showing me things than I could keep up with and they gleefully started piling all the gifts on top of me. Giggling. While I was still trying to share/tell what all the gifts were for the benefit of those not up front with us. Thank God the worship leader came to my rescue and helped usher the kids in the direction of putting the unwrapped gifts back into the manger. Meanwhile, one 1^st grade boy began picking up the paper saying, “I'm the trash monster, err, err, err!" Then 5 seconds later, as he contined efficiently picking up the paper, "I CAN'T believe I'm picking up the trash!"

Then some of the children then went to "Children’s Church" where they set up a birthday party, complete with cake for us to share after the worship service.

One child decided that she didn't want to go back to sit with her mom and grandparents so she stayed up front with me through a hymn and the prayer time until her grandpa came and fetched her. She was very well behaved and cuddled on my lap during the singing of Angels We Have Heard on High.

So to recap:
We fed everyone wonderful sugary home made cinnamon rolls before church.
Had a gift opening frenzy.
And then fed them birthday cake before we sent them home.

Later my sister remarked the only thing I didn’t do to jazz the kids up before sending them home was to give each one of them a puppy!

:-))

IT WAS AWESOME!

I hope to have some pictures to share with you soon from our church photographer.

I hope each of you had a very Merry Christmas too!

Peace,
The Rev

Flying High

It's been a good month, especially from a flying perspective. I think I've been making up for lost time while I was undergoing treatment. In the past month, I've flown:

• to and from Columbus, Ohio to pick up a second airplane for our flying club;
• to and from Omaha, Nebraska to pick up our church secretary from a family gathering;
• to and from Kennett, Missouri on business;
• to and from St. Louis twice;
• plus a few instrument flying lessons as well.

The best part of all this flying is that a good deal has been at limited or no cost to me, which is the best kind of flying there is.

Perhaps the most interesting trip was the one to Kennett. I took my boss down there to speak to a local church after he had agreed to meet with them without knowing exactly where they were located. As it turns out, it would have been a 5-6 hour drive each way, which would have necessitated an overnight stay. Instead, it took about 2 1/4 hours of flying each way. Plus, the cost to use the airplane was less than the reimbursement for the mileage would have been, not to mention the hotel.

The weather has cooperated for nearly all of these flights, save the last one to St. Louis, which had quite a bit of turbulence in the takeoff and landing phases -- enough that both Sarah and I "caught air" when he had a couple of violent losses of altitude (only a few feet). It's a similar feeling to riding in the rear car of a roller coaster and being whipped over the summit of a steep incline.

Now it looks as if some crappy fall/winter weather is settling in. We're planning to fly ourselves down to see my folks for Thanksgiving next week (weather permitting); it will be the first time that all my siblings and their spouses have been together in some time. It may also mark the last time there's any semblance of sanity at a family gathering -- the number of small children may be tripled by this time next year (and no, none of them will be provided by us as far as we know).

I'm also planning a little "exotic" Thanksgiving feast for some folks next week involving Jones Soda. It should be interesting, to say the least, from a culinary standpoint.

Goofballs at the beach 

Sarah and The Niece 

Frank and The Niece 

The niece and nephew