Thank Goodness for Cell Phones

With the older boys out and away so much, we got them cell phones to help with the logistics. Sometimes I wonder why we bothered. They seldom answer them. Neither one has set up voice mail (not that any of us checks it -- what a different world it is since the advent of caller ID!) There isn't a segment of society I know of that is more likely to leave the house with 9% battery charge and no charger cable.

And yet, what a difference it's made to have this technology readily available.

One little message lets us know they've arrived safely.

"Survived"

"not dead"

"didn't die"*

None of mine send normal messages like, "made it on time" or "we have arrived safely at our destination and will now proceed with the scheduled activities". I'm OK with that. They're communicating with me. They're giving me what is, truthfully, the only part I care about: Are You OK? It's wonderful. And they're good about that.

With one swipe of a finger, they let us know if there was a change in plans: "Going to Austin's" or "Sent the Littles ahead with John".

In the 80's? Yeah, that wasn't gonna happen. (You may have been a better kid than I was, and been better about touching base. My friends and I tended to act like once we left the house, that part of our lives was paused and the part we were in was the only one with anything actually happening. Not consciously, mind, but looking back at it, that seems to be a reasonable explanation. We weren't intentionally jerks, but we were thoughtless about anything that wasn't the here and now.) I think kids do still tend to be a little thoughtless about anything that's not the here and now, but cell phones make it easier to remember to let your mother know you're not dead in a ditch right now.

My poor mother. All our poor mothers. We may or may not have had a quarter on us. Or thought to ask a friend's mother if we could use their house phone. And when there was a change of plans? Mmm-boy. My mother is gone, but if your mother is still alive, would you please apologize to her on my behalf?

If only for that, alone, the cell phones are wonderful. Add in the ability to say, "We're out of cream," when they'll be passing the store, or "Do you need gas money?" while you're actually AT the bank, and it drops the whole difficulty factor of communication by a full magnitude.

So while these perks don't negate the very real concerns our kids have to face with learning to navigate technology, and they don't replace legit parental involvement and communication, I am feeling the very real love for what positive things they've brought into our lives.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

*actual examples of standard messages

The High Adrenaline Start

After a particularly long night earlier this week, I collapsed into bed. What felt like minutes later, I heard, "It's 8:30. There's coffee. Thought you might want to, you know, get up." I schlepped out of bed, checked my calendar, and FREAKED. I had an 8:30 appointment!

Out the door and on the road by 8:35 (it was not going to be an attractive meeting, that's for sure) when the individual I had messaged about running late replied, "I thought it was XX day, is it not?"

Why yes. *whew* Yes, it is. When we'd scheduled the meeting, the parties involved weren't sure which date and time would work best, so I plugged in both to be on the safe side. Then I never deleted the extraneous one once we'd nailed down the details.

I went back home, kicked off my shoes, and knocked out two hours of work over the best tasting, most appreciated cup of coffee I've had in ages.

Later that day, I related the story to the kids. Not as a cautionary tale, but as a reminder that we all do dumb things sometimes, and it's OK. The difference is in how you respond. Do you own up to it? Do you do your best to make it happen (fix it, clarify it, etc.)? Do you communicate? Those things go a long way toward smoothing the path forward, and allowing you to go a little easier on yourself.

Keeping those to a minimum, however, will preserve those vital minutes that are prone to being shaved off the end of your life! I'm not gonna lie about that. Goodness.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

I wish I'd gone into research

I was never good at taking notes, and when I did, I'd often lose them. The running joke in our house, as we search for yet another list I've misplaced, is that this is why I never went into research. But after educating children, having cancer, and refurbishing a house, I wish I had. It would be nice to have volumes of well-tended notes to refer back to, to see if there are new patterns or untapped ideas.

This morning, over sad coffee, I read through the recent posts in a Keto group I'm a member of. (This group is scientifically oriented, and is based on the work of Drs. Phinney and Volek.) The NSV (non-scale victories) are amazing -- off of blood pressure medication, off of insulin, off of statins, off of anxiety medications, no longer categorized as diabetic/pre-diabetic... the list really does go on and on. Daily. The weight stabilization (both gaining and losing, to find optimal) is impressive. Every day, people are getting their lives back, and the healing that's happening in this group comes straight from the learning, growing, and taking control that the members are engaging in to save their own lives. It's my morning read, and is such a place of encouragement for me.

And yet, weekly, I also read stories of doctors who (essentially) won't take notes. They acknowledge that their patients are improving in ways they hadn't expected, but they won't acknowledge or record what their patients are doing differently to see such drastic results. (I have, personally, had the same experience with my new oncologist -- he won't listen to what I'm doing, claims it has no impact, and then when things go far better than the evidence would suggest, or than he expected, he shrugs and says it's a fluke. Sometimes, flukes are part of a pattern you're not seeing.) Some doctors threaten to fire their patients for going off the USDA (or the ADA) recommendations. I don't get that. (And, to be fair, many doctors are saying, "Whoa. Wait a minute, here. What's this?" They have a special place in the hearts of every patient who has healed and gotten his life back.)

I get that a physician has a responsibility to provide a certain standard of care for his patients, and that this standard is described by protocols in place. But we must always be learning, and taking notes to facilitate knowledge and understanding is not precluded by that mandate. If what you're recommending isn't working, and something else works, you don't have to become a kool-aid-drinking-total-believer. But take notes. And if you see it happen again, take more notes. Look for patterns, and if you start to see a pattern emerge, pay attention. Have the mind of a beginner. Why is this not the norm in the medical profession? Was it ever? (I want to say it was, but then I think back on my antibiotic-happy family physician and reconsider my stance... the truth is that I don't know.) I do know that most people become physicians because they want to help people. They want to improve lives, facilitate health, be an integral part of making this world a better place. But it's easy after a while to defer to protocol and forget that we're still learning.

Am I saying Ketogenesis is the answer for all the world's ailments? No. I'm not. Do I think it merits a serious look for some ailments, particularly diabetes? Yes. Do I wish that more people were taking notes and comparing them? Yes. Do I wish I'd gone into research and learned to take better notes, myself? Oh, goodness, yes.

While teaching the kids science over the years, my mantra has always been,

"Once you start acting like you know all the answers, you stop asking questions. Don't be that guy."

Because while there is SO much we know now, there is SO much we do not know.

When I'm an old lady and you see me in the street, yelling, "Take notes! Pay attention! Look for patterns! Talk to others!" Well, you'll know why.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

That Was Bracing

I awoke this morning to a cold house and the heat just blowing for all it's worth. It seems that after Z and a boy had let Buddy the Dog out this morning, he'd decided he wanted back in. Since they were already gone and the rest of us were asleep, he ditched the back yard and tried the front door, which, luckily for him, was not secured. So he nudged it open and happily curled up on his bed in the living room. Leaving the 22 degree air to waft through the house for us. Anybody had any luck teaching a dog to close a door?

So, I'm up. Really up. Wide awake and ready to roll! That's good.

And Z had made coffee before he headed out. Also appreciated.

We have a quiet weekend planned. The Scouts are serving a pancake breakfast this morning, and Jacob has rehearsals. A little reading, a little cleaning. Worship tomorrow. Our weekends aren't the most exciting thing in the world, but they are so very nourishing -- time for us to spend together, time for us to regroup.

It just hit me that the kids probably don't see the rhythm of it all. Hmmm. I don't want to be pedantic and turn every interaction into a "lesson" for them, but I don't want them to miss the opportunity to spot the importance of downtime, of cycling your activity, of touching base and recharging. They're going to need that one day (some sooner than others). Maybe I'll point it out this afternoon - make a pot of tea, read aloud, express my appreciation for this time. The appreciation bit is absolutely genuine. And who doesn't love a little hot tea on a cold afternoon?

I do hope the house is warmer by then.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

Great Scott!

I feel the way Doc Brown looks. Thursdays are hard, y'all. And yes, I know it's Saturday. THAT'S how hard Thursdays are! But we made it. We're good to go. We weren't even late to things. The boys and I have a seminar at church to get to this morning, and I do believe I'mma let someone else drive. *yawn*

The college fair was interesting. There were about 30 schools there, and just enough students to keep them busy, but not so many that it became automated and uncomfortable. We met up with some friends and let the boys go talk and meander. I think the boys all came away with good information and some ideas to dive into. At one point, one of my children decided he'd like a school with a culinary arts program and a rifle team. *insert long, uncomfortable pause, here* (Z says it sounds like he's fixing to be a cook in the Navy.) We talked a bit later (because let's face it, that sounds like an odd combination - I thought perhaps I might be missing something), and it turns out he had just panicked. It happens. His brother, our science/technology/programming/all-things-automated Spock child, once told the head of the computer science department that he was going to major in Psychology. When asked later, he said, "I don't know. I panicked." It's good to get it out now, instead of later, when you're filing paperwork.

And then we've gone and gone and gone. Game day and ballet and ballroom and ballet and so. much. driving. Em was scandalized when she heard me tell Jacob the other night that he needed to find a girlfriend with a driver's license. (She thinks it's funny when Z says absurd things, but from me, she expects reason and Good Advice. I may have done something wrong, here.)

Jacob's entire educational plan is on hold for two or three weeks while he spools up on his new schedule. Blessedly, he's a reader, so he's still plugging along with books. That makes me hyperventilate a little less. And his posture is already improving, which is like having two months of physical therapy thrown in as an added bonus. Other than that, though, he pretty much eats and sleeps. Growing is hard work. He's doing a fine job.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

On Encouragement

Encouragement is something we all need. It's something we crave. We don't all necessarily want it in the same way... For example, I have one child who loves some high fives and goofy accolades from friends, acquaintances, strangers on the sidewalk - he's pretty much willing to be encouraged by anything... and another who is much more encouraged by a quiet positive comment that can't be heard beyond the two of you, or by receiving a note or a card, than by anything loud or likely to draw attention her way. Both are receptive to encouragement, but they are not encouraged by the same thing.

I wonder if we sense that aspect of it, but don't quite know how respond to it. I know I struggle with "knowing" how to be encouraging. I hear friends express a desire to be encouraging. It's often accompanied by a semi-apologetic self-deprecating half-laugh. 

It always catches me off guard coming from them, because I hear it from some of the most encouraging, uplifting, strengthening women I know. These are the women who I trust with my most precious things: my children's struggles, my own fears, my worries. I trust them with my hopes, my crazy ideas, my broken nature. They are the ones I know will actually pray when they say they will. They mean it when they say they'll help with anything. They extend good faith and assume the best when there are disagreements.

(And if you're thinking right now, "Wow, Dy, you are one lucky gal!" Well yes. Yes, I am. I don't know how it happened, and I absolutely don't deserve it, but I'm not about to point it out to anyone who could fix it differently.)

I don't claim to know the answer, but I would venture to suggest that being encouraging isn't a thing in itself. I'm starting to believe that just by being in relationship with others -- real relationship, where you share your lives together, and you know each other -- your presence and interaction are, by their very nature, encouraging. 

When you know whether someone feels better by laughing or sitting quietly, and you care about them, you learn to bring that to the table (or, if you're me, at least try to be calm and quiet if that's what they need) when you come to them. But really, the fact that you're *there* is the root of the encouragement. You're traveling along with them, not expecting them to go it alone. It doesn't have to be perfect. You don't have to be perfect. Just be there. Be willing. That is so encouraging.

Be encouraged (and encouraging!)

~ Dy

Gosh, but I Am So Old!

I used to be my mother's tech support. I could program the record function on a VCR like a boss. I could scan for channels and get a new remote paired with the TV in no time. And her clocks? They were always synchronized and accurate, never flashing. This morning, it's a different story...

I'm writing this up in Open Office Writer because my internet connection is hinky. I ran the troubleshooter and it said the modem is experiencing difficulties (which is code for, “You have Charter. They're probably down, but they said not to tell you that.”) The troubleshooter suggested rebooting the modem.

Hey, I can do that. I remember doing that, back when you had to set up your modem on the phone that could do pulse/button dial tone! (I got a new phone just so I could do that!) My IT is leaving this year, so I'll just quietly assume my old position. Cool. That's cool.

I peered around the back of the TV and...

You can't be serious! First off, we're missing one – either the router or the modem – but there's only one box back there and I'm pretty sure there should be two. So, if the modem is actually missing, that would explain a lot.

But right now, it doesn't really matter because I can't tell if the one that's left is the router or the modem. It doesn't seem to say, outright, what it is. I feel so old.

And my internet is down SO I CAN'T EVEN LOOK IT UP.

*sigh*

I checked my watch. Hmm 6:30... I wonder how long before I can risk waking my tech support?

Where's my phone? I found it. It's charging. Just need enough charge to figure out if that's the modem behind the TV. If so, I'll need to find out how to reboot it. (Yes, I know you just press the button. But there are a zillion buttons.) And if that's not the modem, well, I'm going to have to wake tech support, then, and inquire just where they've relocated the actual modem to...

And why.

Because I am old and cannot even begin to reason where you'd put a modem if not with the router. (Or vice versa.) But I will! And I will put a note in my journal so that the next time this happens I won't be stuck offline during the prime Quiet Moments of the day.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

P.S. James got up fairly early this morning, so I just told him the internet was down and he made magic. He also showed me where the modem is living, now. AND gave me a cool trip  -- if you can't remember which is which, just remember that your modem communicates with your ISP (which is easy - the router broadcasts, or routes, things to the devices in the house), so if you find the ISP cable coming out of the wall, you can follow it to the first box you hit and TA-DA, that's the modem. I'm still not remotely prepared for him to leave, but this will make it easier.

The Things You Miss

Aside from one child's era of tying things in knots, I've generally loved the weirdness that comes with having children in the house. This latest bit cracks me up...

A friend described it as a hipster plush party! LOVE IT! Everybody should have a party in the hallway. At least once.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

The Glamorous Side

Do you know what I did today?

I kept a straight face as I helped my eldest son parse the intricacies of communicating with the staff at the local community college. The faculty may be great, but man, their office staff needs some help. We'll have to go down there when they re-open, because as things stand right now, a hold on his account that should have expired at the end of this semester is currently set to expire "December 2099", which, you know, seems a bit drastic for anything not involving criminal or ethical breeches. But the best part is that the dual enrollment coordinator has informed him (in writing, I'm not making this up) that State law prevents that date from being changed.

I don't know. Maybe he pissed off the Governor.

Know what else I did?

I looked for colleges for me! Well, not for me, initially. John had sent me some things to check out, so I started looking on his behalf, but then... there are some really cool academic programs out there. And the next thing I knew, I was looking at family housing in Las Vegas, New Mexico. It's a good thing he's motivated and focused, because I fear I am going to be no help, at all.

I also tallied grades and updated the transcripts, which felt a lot like that image, just up there. Good times. I actually figured out how to upload a correction to the Common App (these things - all things applying for college - should come with donation buttons and a note box: "Yeah, this was on me. My bad. He's actually better at math, but we didn't think it wise to let the student calculate his own GPA. Turns out, we probably should have. But, well, yay for honest students? And did I mention he can math good? So, uh, here's coffee money. Get the Grande. Love ya!")

Actually, it's probably best to just make that available after the decisions are in. I'd still send coffee, even if they said no.

And then, I printed out John's Spring Semester. Got it bound, found a great graphic for the cover... realized I was probably just procrastinating at that point, and got back to business. I can't believe he's also almost done. Just, wow. This is crazy.

In the down times between all that, I ironed a thousand perler bead sets. My plan, there, is to let the process just burn itself out. But y'all are gettin' plastic keychains for every major gift giving occasion this year. Fair warning.

That was the glamorous day. And if you've been homeschooling for any length of time, you know just how shiny and exhilarating a freshly bound planner can be... not even kidding.

Be encouraged!
~ Dy

The End

We've wrapped up quite a bit this week...

Z finished his class, passed the course, and has a nifty certificate for it. He's one step closer to getting the certification he's been working toward, so that's exciting. They keep changing the requirements for the certification, and while this is good - in that they're raising the bar - it's a little like trying to catch a carrot that's dangling from your own head. There's no grandfathering in to a specific set of requirements, and his year-of-travel last year put him out of the course just long enough that he'll have more courses to complete after this. But for now, he's done. And he's going to rest his brain for a bit before diving back in. I don't blame him. It's good to have him back!

James is just about done with the semester. Time to apply for internships, pursue getting signed with an agency... do whatever he's going to do from here. It's exciting. And weird. And not a little terrifying. He's got most of his college applications done, essays and all. I'm really proud of the work he's put in this year, and of the man he's becoming.

Everybody else is done, too. John's working his ice cream gig and learning new songs on his guitar. Em's still making Christmas presents. Jacob has holed up with the Legos the past few days, decompressing and enjoying some down time.

Jase is reading the first five chapters of the first Ranger's Apprentice book so that Jacob will read the first five chapters of the first Warriors book. It's some kind of sibling-instigated cultural exchange agreement. Cracks me up, but I think it's brilliant.

And soon, we'll wrap up the year. Just like that. For all its ups and downs, it's been quite the experience. I'm rather looking forward to 2017.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Holidays With Teens

So, that's weird. It's still pretty fantastic. Party prep takes all of half an hour, because teens actually help with the cleaning. The cooking is a cake walk, again, because they pitch in. Inside jokes are way funnier because they're old enough to get them.

And yet, you come home from class to find everyone sitting in the dark, glued to the couch, stock still, eyes wide... watching "a creepy Christmas movie". The weird part is that you actually have to watch the movie for a couple of minutes to find out if they're being campy about a traditional movie or if it's really a scary Christmas movie. (Odds are about 50/50, to be truthful.)

The biggest downside to teens so far is that they get so busy and can take themselves -- to work, to study groups -- to Scouts and Exploring -- there's very little time spent together as they get closer to fledging. It's probably supposed to be this way -- how else are they going to learn to be on their own if they're never on their own. But still, that part's a little bittersweet.

Yesterday's party was a blast. With teens and littles and mamas. And so much laughter and food.

Today, 3/5 of the kids and I were up and out the door at some ridiculous hour in order to get into town to see The Nutcracker. The other two had things to do. But for the rest of us, it was so worth it. They hadn't seen it before, and they were enthralled. Jacob's considering taking ballet, now. He was quite impressed with the sheer strength of the dancers. (I think his actual words were, "Wow. They could kick your head clean off!" Not that he would do that, but when you're 13, that seems like a straight up superpower.)

John worked this morning, then had to be at a food drive, so we dropped him off and visited a friend at a yarn store. Em had no idea such things (yarn stores) existed. This may  have been a mistake, but she is so very, very glad we went. We also met a lady there who teaches sign to elementary students in music class, but she mentioned that she doesn't understand it well in spoken conversation because she doesn't have anyone to practice with. The kids would like to go back to crochet and sign with her. And touch the yarn. I'm pretty sure the lure of yarn touching factored in, there.

Then we had ASL class, and arrived home.

The movie is actually creepy.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Pfft. Well, there you go.

I started writing again with the intent to sit down once a week. Anyone can do that. Right? Evidently not. I'm not sure what happened since the 8th. Well, no, that's not true. I've driven. About 1800 miles this week, alone. So much time in the Suburban.

I really appreciate air conditioning in the car.

And cup holders.

And teens who shower, who share their music, and who remember to bring water. They make everything easier.

James has been working on his Eagle project. And modeling. And taking summer classes at the local college. Blessedly, we discovered Flonase this month, so he's handling it all really well and only feels mildly overwhelmed. But he can breathe! And think! It's wonderful!

John has been anxiously awaiting the arrival of his card from his driver's ed class, so he can go get his license. In the meantime, I've gotten to know our insurance agent quite well as I call and plead for leniency in adding two adolescent males to the same policy at the same time. She's very kind, but there's not a lot they can do. When I finish writing today, I'm going to go find bean recipes to add to our already fantastic repertoire.

The rest of us are bumping along, listening to Terry Pratchett in the car, singing songs in the car, and playing I Spy in the car. Because have I mentioned that we've done a lot of driving? Yeah, that needs to stop.

So I volunteered for a turn hosting book club at the house in order to prod me into cleaning. Works like a charm. And then, I suppose it's time to start rounding up materials for the start of school.

I wonder if I should get a binder with a hard cover, so I can write in the car?

Be encouraged!
~Dy

The weather has cooled off so nicely, and we don't have any of our cold weather clothing out! Also, I realized the other day, when the high was 65 degrees, that we don't really understand "cold weather" anymore. We were freezing! (It was wonderful.)

We saw the strangest thing at dance last week: the Mayberry PD car. Or, maybe not the, but a (although... how many of these are there?) At any rate, I thought it was neat and made the Littles go stand in front of the door for a picture. The Bigs would have understood how cool it was, but they were off being responsible. The Littles let me know they thought it was awkward, and potentially inappropriate, to approach someone else's vehicle and take pictures. 

When we do groceries, we try to find something new to try. We've always done this, and it's just sort of our thing, now. (When the boys were small, it was more a clever means to avoid the impulse buys at checkout - nobody thought to whine over a candy bar when he was holding his very own pineapple or ugly fruit or whatever delight he'd found in produce. Now, it's habit.) This week, Jase and Em found a beautiful, colorful, enticing vat of assorted licorice candies at Sprouts! They smelled horrible, but we had stuck to the list and we hadn't grabbed anything unique, so we thought this would be something fun to try. It was fun, but they tasted about as good as they smelled. I think James got them all -- he's the only one who found anything positive to say about them. The rest of us just took a snapshot and called it good.

And back to schooling. Or not. While the Bigs worked on portfolios and chemistry research, I found the Littles camped out in the den, playing a game they'd created. They were still hashing out the rules, but paused so I could snap a pic for Z. Sometimes, a little reminder of why we're doing what we do goes a long way toward getting us through another long day.

This has been low immunity week for me. I'm covered in bruises, a little tired, and more than a little irritable. Thankfully, it's short-lived. In the meantime, life! School, reading, playing, dancing, hiking. Not nearly enough napping. We should remedy that. But the rest? It's good. Even when it's a little awkward, or gross, or not really what we ought to be doing at all, it's good. I'm glad for that.

Be encouraged~
Dy

Saturday Doings

The boys collected donations this morning to send BSA popcorn to the troops overseas. Now John's nerding with his People. James is doing the school work he couldn't get done during the week, and JakeRabbit is wandering about, pretending to be looking for his copy of Ivanhoe... Z put up the brick molding on the new door. I used the time in town without children to pick up some much needed garments (also decided I need to drop a good 30 pounds and spend all the grocery money on Target's fall line - PONCHOS, people! They have ponchos! ~swoon~), ran laundry, and got in some work.

The Littles played video games until Em wandered in to lie on the couch and stare pitifully at anyone who wandered by as she whispered, "I'm hungry..." (This is a clear case of Video Game Head. There was bacon, pancakes, and nut butter all within arm's reach. She didn't have to languish on the couch. But I'm convinced video games turn my otherwise intelligent children into garden slugs.)

Every few minutes, people switch it up. JakeRabbit runs a load of wash and then plays Modern Warfare 3 with Z. We check with James to see how his Japanese is coming along and he is reminded that he's not, in fact, supposed to be playing TeamFortress2, but is supposed to be doing the work he didn't get done during the week. (This is always a surprise to him, based on the "Oh," he utters when we check.) Jase is loving the goat simulator on his brother's tablet, insisting I watch as his penguin self slides about, or his goat version licks random passersby. It's a gross looking game, but I'll probably see about getting it on my tablet because sometimes you just want to be a giraffe on a trampoline. I'm a little concerned about starving to death, though, since I doubt Video Game Head is limited to just children... But first, some reading and a snack.

The weather is gorgeous. Fall is coming! Tonight's low is in the high 40's, which means if it doesn't rain, there will be coffee on the balcony in the morning! These weekends are perhaps my favorite in the cycle of days. They are quietly busy, relaxed and pleasant.

Be encouraged ~
Dy

Half-Way Point

We got the results of the scan today, and we're on track to wrap this up in November. It's not gone (it may never be gone), but it is responding, and the scary bits have backed off quite a bit. I didn't realize until we got back in the car that I'd been holding my breath, so to speak, since the scan. Prior to that, I'd been so busy bracing myself. Once I exhaled, I was left with a deep tiredness. Happy, yes. Thankful, certainly. But mostly exhausted. *whew* What a ride.

At the halfway mark, I've noticed a few things:

* I'm not getting the awesome weight loss I'd hoped for. Hrmpfh. But now that the masses aren't pressing on my arteries, I can get back to the gym. Maybe give things a boost for this last few laps.

* While food smells don't make me sick or nauseous, I'm not loving food the way I normally do (and I DO love me some food!) I still eat, but I can't remember the last time I was legitimately hungry, and I sound like Ben Stein when I compliment the food. (Go ahead, say, "this is delicious" or "this is great, thank you" using his monotone inflection. You'll laugh at yourself. Or at me. It's OK. I laugh at myself, too.)

* Still not 100% okay with the thought that this is a life-long chronic condition. However, a friend said something at the onset of this that another friend reminded me of today. It's going to be my focus for the coming months: a lot of people die with lymphoma, but not many people die of lymphoma. (If you tilt your head a bit and half-smile when you say it, that's actually very encouraging. People die with acne, or with a lisp, or with a cowlick, too. We all have things we'd like to change. But still we live.)

* When you don't look sick, people forget that you need help. You have to ask for it. Sometimes, you have to sit on the couch and announce, "This is low immunity week and I am not moving until there is somewhere safe in this house for me to move to."

* Moving helps. And sometimes not moving helps. It's important to listen to your body without guilt or letting your inner voice tell you how it should be.

* People can be awesome. Let them.

* This is hard on others, too, and it's hard to find that balance between getting what you need and helping others get what they need. But it's important to try.

There's probably more. Strike that, there is more, so much more. I'm looking forward to posting a what-I've-learned entry at the end of this.

So Monday's another round of chemo. Moving forward. We've got this.

Be encouraged~
Dy

Old. Old, old, old. And dark.

I used to love the Fall time change. (Actually, I used to love living in Arizona, where I didn't have to deal with the time change. But if I had to spring forward, then being able to fall back was a perk. I got a jump start on each day, and we'd likely be on time to things for two or three months.)

This year, though, I'm not coping so well. Sure, I'm up and moving at five each morning, which is pretty fantastic for my overall productivity. But I find myself trying to herd the kids to bed each night around six o'clock. It's dark. We've eaten supper. (That productivity thing in action.) We've watched a little something. I have read everything I can handle reading for today. TIME FOR BED! Wait, what? HOW is it only six?

:30 minutes later:

I quietly check the time on my phone. Damn.

:30 minutes after that:

OK, kids, how about you get your jammies on and... but seven is nearly eight thirty... aren't you even the least bit tired? (Nope. Not in the least. As a matter of fact, who wants to play 5 Second Rule!?!?)

:another 30 minutes:

If you go to bed now, I will make you doughnuts for breakfast. (No takers. They're not tired! What is wrong with them?)

:30 very long minutes later:

You know what, I'm done for. I don't care if you ever go to bed, but I'm about to pass out on the floor. Start the dishwasher before you leave the kitchen, okay? M'kay. Love you. Night.

And they follow me into my room and proceed to do what they do every night - the snuggle-and-data-dump. Which I really love. Only in the Summer they do it much later and when it's still light out. I don't know why that combination makes such a difference, but it does. I've fallen asleep fully dressed three times this week. The Bigs think I'm just getting old. The Littles are worried that I'm losing my mind.

They may both be right. *yawn*

Kiss those babies, and send 'em to bed really early!
~Dy

November, What A Great Month

Having a great month so far! (Yeah, it's the fifth. I've decided to call it early and just enjoy the rest of it, whatever comes.)

Jacob managed to get a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup out of the wrapper without skinning the bottom. He was very excited (as I figured when I saw this on my phone --->)

We had a party on Halloween. It wasn't a scary, gory party - mainly because nobody would have come, and parties are more about the people who come and enjoy time together than they are about props or themes or decorations. (Thank God, because even for other holidays, I pretty much stink at any of that.) But I do miss grown-up costume parties. And I wanted to have some fun with the day, too. So I bought sparkly silver eyelashes. The children were scandalized. (Evidently, that's not appropriate attire for a Good Mother. I had to take my own picture, with my short little dinosaur arms that are not made for selfies. And what appears to be a fish eye lens... I'm not sure what's up with that.)

I'll be honest, I couldn't see, and the sparkly bits threw light around and I kept dodging and twitching because it looked like things coming at me out of my periphery. But it was fun. Also, I have so much respect for anyone who can wear those things and dance. Clearly, I'm not going to be heading for the Vegas stage any time soon.

Em and Jase were *stoked* to find their pumpkins on the wall at the library. When you're in the under ten crowd, this is right up there with getting published or having your picture in the paper.

Jase looked so cute in his costume. But the flash on the phone is really bright, and it stays on a long time. So I got this shot, which was live-captioned by Jase, "Mom! You're blinding me! Ow!"

And that's been about it. We want to take December off to do fun things, so we're doubling down on November to take up the slack. We'll see how that goes. Should be fun!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

That's So Weird

When the kids were little, I followed a number of bloggers who wrote about life, centered around family and family-centered learning. Their kids were also smallish, but older than mine. It was fun to get a peek into what was coming up - what milestones, what achievements, what challenges. To these ladies, some of whom are in-person friends now, I will be forever grateful.

But I noticed a few years ago that the word "weird" began cropping up in a large number of their posts. Where once there were descriptive re-tellings of events, the reports became a little vague ("We had a good turn out. The kids had fun. Someone set fire to the stage.") and stories were often left out, replaced with what felt like a passing glance ("life is just weird," or "boys can be so weird, God love 'em"). That seemed... odd.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

~ Hunter S. Thompson

I didn't get it. Did something happen? Are they okay? Did the kids mutate and she just can't say anything? A veil descended over the blogging end of parenthood with the ascendancy of the teen years. It was a little disconcerting, and if not for late-night chats with friends, I might have gotten a wee bit panicky.

But now? Now I get it. Teens are awesome, and amazing, and sometimes absolutely frustrating - but it's never just because. There's always a reason behind what they do. (I knew that, once. I'm glad I remembered before declaring it's time for them to walk the Earth and do weird things somewhere else.) And sometimes, moms don't really care what the reason is (if my mother were here, this is about where she'd raise her eyebrows at me and mutter, "You think?") I get that, now, too.

I have long ago accepted that I am a little crazy and a little weird. It wasn't that exciting a revelation, though. Turns out everyone is.

~ Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing.

They are funny and brilliant and exuberant and Oh, so sleepy, all at the same time. And there are some tremendously endearing stories to be told, but they'll have to wait for the anonymity of time, for the buffer of maturity, maybe for an intimate evening with other moms over a bottle wine, swapping sweet, weird stories about years gone by. Right now, in the interest of blogging and honoring my relationship with my kids, I've finally come to grips with the use of the word weird.

And let me tell you, sometimes, life is just weird. Oh, it's good. And it's amazing. And I laugh more, smile more, *think* more, enjoy the inside jokes more with the teens than ever before. (It was pretty fantastic to begin with, so this is really saying something.)

You have this ability to find beauty in weird places.

~ Kamila Shamsie, Kartography 

My music exposure, which had pretty much stalled out at whatever I listened to in 1998, has exploded with new stuff, all courtesy of the boys.

They challenge me to maintain the same levels of integrity we've taught them to expect.

And yet, they're still learning, still growing, still trying things out and discarding what doesn't work (sometimes picking it up and trying it again, just to be sure). In these man-sized bodies, with these Titan-sized dreams, there are still the kernels of the large-pawed puppies they were just a couple of years ago. Beside that, there are echoes of the little boy with his pet slug, his favorite cape, tugging my arm to show me a wren's nest... and the whole thing collapses in on me, sometimes every day, sometimes several times a day. I don't always know what to do with it. It's weird.

Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon, everything's different.

~ Bill Watterson

They still bring me their treasures, and I still cherish them, but it's with a quieter awe that I accept them, now. I get how much it means to share your most valuable gifts with someone, and I'm freakishly honored that they still share them with me.

So if you notice your friends who once told such hilarious and delightful stories about their children suddenly get a little hush-hush, don't panic. Look for the twinkle in their eyes, the laugh that escapes in the pause of a sentence, the little head-shake and loss of words. It just means life gets a little weird sometimes. It'll be okay. It'll be better than okay.

Be the weirdest little weird in all Weird Town.

~ Grace Helbig

Always, always kiss those babies!
~Dy

Almost Fall!

It's nearly Autumn, and we're all counting down! Mornings have been cool enough to enjoy a hot beverage and a book on the balcony, and that, alone, makes Summer heat almost worth it.

Jacob is 11, now. James is 16. Jacob, I can handle. But James? I honestly have no clue how that happened. I feel neither old enough to have a 16yo, nor like he's been around long enough to have reached that age. It's a bit surreal, to be honest. I mean, it's not like he's still a pudgy toddler who insists on closing doors people have left open. He's taller than I am by a significant bit (although he'll still gladly close doors and turn off lights, so that's handy), and he's full of great questions and challenging scenarios and wonderful ideas. But still... 16 seems so... grown, but not-grown, and so big-but-not-really-done-yet. But still a lot bigger and more grown than seems reasonable. :sniff:

And it's a little weird. The inner workings of the adolescent mind are fascinating and awe-inspiring, and a titch terrifying, from the parent's perspective. I guess that shows on my face, because he'll often burst out laughing mid-discussion and assure me, "There's no reason for this line of questioning. I was honestly just wondering about the (moral/legal/ethical/historical) implications." Oh. Well. That's... OK, I'll take it.

For Jacob's birthday, we had a little cookout and gathering. James wants to have an anime marathon, so that'll take some schedule wrangling with his peeps. They're all so laid back and easy going. I'm really lucky. Old, but lucky.

Again, I'll take it.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Re-Entry is Hard

It's Thursday, and we've been just wallowing in indecision. Do we hang out? Clean? Plan? Go adventuring? Oh, look, Netflix! I should consider asking for a coupon for a maid service to clean the house the day before I return from Circe next year.

It's not the house's fault for being untidy, and having a clean home wouldn't buy me more hours in a day to get in all the planning, adventuring, and hanging out with the children that I would like. But it feels like it might, and so, I daydream. (That doesn't particularly help with the paralysis.)

But, the older boys' 9th and 10th grade years are mostly planned out now. We're using Norms & Nobility as the basic guideline. I've spent the last few days parsing the titles out into 12-week terms, matching the memory work up with the historical and literature content. It's coming together, and I'm looking forward to the Renaissance! The only change I'll make (and it's small, but as with most things, I reserve the right to can the plan and run off with the family at any point in the year), is that we're swapping out The Tempest in favor of As You Like It. We read and watched video of The Tempest last year, and we have the opportunity to see As You Like It performed live next month. Seems like a no-brainer. And let me tell you, three chapters into Norms and I need a no-brainer tossed my way!

No, wait. Also foreign language. We'll keep Latin, but James wants to take Japanese, and John wants to take Russian. I found online high school courses for both through BYU, which was incredibly exciting (for me) because I'm just not going to learn Japanese, and if I'm going to learn the Cyrillic alphabet, it's going to be for Greek studies. So, there you have it: we need to find someone else to keep up with modern languages. I'm good with that. If you have used a BYU online course, I would love some feedback. It looked good, but I've since heard some negative experiences (nothing drastic and terrifying, just experiences that indicate it may not be a good fit for us). So now I've pushed our start date back a bit while I do more legwork.

JakeRabbit, Em and Jase are going to continue on with Ambleside. And wandering in the woods. And catching animals. Because honestly, that seems like a pretty darned fantastic childhood.

Meanwhile, James has got to learn to drive. But he's in no hurry. None of his friends really are, either. What is that? I was willing to give up a kidney to get my license the day I turned 16. Not that it helped a lot (and thankfully nobody took me up on that offer), but it was such a nice bit of freedom. Even today, I love to get behind the wheel and just GO. I felt guilty doing all the driving last week, but it turned out my traveling companion was fine with that, and so my gypsy self just soaked it all in. James? Not a gypsy. And that's okay. But it would be nice not to have to drive to Scouts.

And tomorrow, we get to spend some time with friends! But not here at the house, which means we still have quite a bit of cleaning left to do (we should just host something - that would get it done quickly and well).

Kiss those babies!
~Dy