tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307605652024-03-07T13:20:56.684-05:00McMadnessA suburban mom's blog filled with random and irrelevant thoughts.McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.comBlogger325125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-69557845017884688262011-11-15T21:14:00.006-05:002011-11-15T21:32:00.286-05:00A Hap-py story<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WYhe8gnV1M05GCTtGc9hVTpvftrbT9Z5n3QxZ2Aqosn90UtpiXIjno64zvG1ofdEU-cQl-uQ8FQCuj1tYvm01OsxLZhft2ezpIztX00uJS5vbKA8RzW2yWTkiheEg3c844NPbA/s1600/2011_09_18_16_29_460006.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WYhe8gnV1M05GCTtGc9hVTpvftrbT9Z5n3QxZ2Aqosn90UtpiXIjno64zvG1ofdEU-cQl-uQ8FQCuj1tYvm01OsxLZhft2ezpIztX00uJS5vbKA8RzW2yWTkiheEg3c844NPbA/s400/2011_09_18_16_29_460006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675411814779741650" /></a><br /><div style="background-color: transparent; "><p dir="ltr" id="internal-source-marker_0.19978110305964947" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Sometimes it only takes one person and one day to change how you view things forever.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I met Ray ‘Hap’ Halloran when I produced a story on him from CNN’s Tokyo Bureau in 1995. We bonded right away. We were both from Ohio. I asked him how he got the nickname “Hap,” he said people called him that because he was always so happy. His life however was not always so...</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Hap was a World War 2 veteran and former POW who had returned to Japan 50 years after the end of the war with a lead on a possible location of where his B-29 had crash landed east of Tokyo in Chiba Prefecture. </span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTb-U_yHc3JyadMcOVaE32YHuorxMbTtbVpCXyWS386WJVYs90QtBnEz1fOctX8MnyIUQoowr0QKjnj-UoJ4Rmo3KYceJ7yLcxgwhAwb8IFboCR_2FmQJTxdB4r9gKMGXmGVAMwg/s1600/2-13-95+Hap+Halloran.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTb-U_yHc3JyadMcOVaE32YHuorxMbTtbVpCXyWS386WJVYs90QtBnEz1fOctX8MnyIUQoowr0QKjnj-UoJ4Rmo3KYceJ7yLcxgwhAwb8IFboCR_2FmQJTxdB4r9gKMGXmGVAMwg/s400/2-13-95+Hap+Halloran.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675412797826895826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px; " /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u>(This is me in a bamboo forest searching for the downed plane. Think of Geraldo Rivera in Al Capone's vault)</u></span></div><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">During the war, Hap was part of an Air Force crew of 11 men referred to as the “Rover Boys” who carried out bombing missions on targets in Japan. After enduring a fierce high altitude air fight during his 4th mission, Hap jumped from his plane in sub-zero temperatures, free-fell 24,000 feet before opening his chute 3,000 feet over Tokyo. When he landed he was beaten by locals, before being taken into the harsh conditions as a prisoner of war.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">What he endured in the months that followed, surviving the Tokyo fire bombings in March of 1945. Soon after he was put on display naked in the tiger cage at the zoo, with his emaciated body (down about 90 pounds) full of sores from the bed bug and lice infestations in the prisons. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Hap talked to me of this experience saying most of the people who had witnessed his display in the zoo were women, likely because most of the men were in the war. As humiliating as it would seem this was intended to be Hap said he thought he saw compassion in the faces of those that were there. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">The years following the war, Hap tried to move on and forget all the things that had happened to him, but as any survivor with post traumatic stress disorder can say these things have a way of bubbling up. He endured almost forty years of nightmares, the kind that make you run screaming into the night.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">One of the truism I found after meeting people from all walks of life through my job, the statesmen or celebrities never really impressed me. The people that truly stuck in my brain were the ordinary people who did extraordinary things. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">While the horror of what humans can inflict on others terrified me, his story reinforced my belief that we are always stronger than we truly know. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Hap and I kept in touch long after we aired our story on him, until my life swept me away, somewhere along the time of my first baby being born. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">When my book club read Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand a few months ago. I was reminded of the story of my friend Hap. As it turns out the author and Hap had a correspondence relationship while she was working on the book. He is mentioned in the book and has photo credits. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I found Hap’s website and reached out to him through it. His daughter emailed me back right away, unfortunately Hap had died three months earlier. I am grateful to him for that time I had with him. After the war ended and the POW camps were liberated, Hap knew how fortunate he was to survive and go home. Freedom is never something that can be taken for granted. He called the remaining days of his life “bonus days.” And since he lived so long he started calling them “double bonus days.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-indent: 31.5pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Hap will be interred in Arlington National Cemetery on Friday. It is my highest honor to be there to say good bye and thank you. </span></p><div style="background-color: transparent; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugh8mOehTWfzH_9eJ0goYfai2eD9dhCrgqrQ7T5-VQmkStSVmo7yuYBaKkRH3kcVy7Hxdj0mbrQd-zNqNwCxy_dEsZKPZToj6IX69PjyLGAQ-KyAL86_5ACy4C0Lcf12YEnL_jw/s1600/2011_09_18_16_29_460007.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugh8mOehTWfzH_9eJ0goYfai2eD9dhCrgqrQ7T5-VQmkStSVmo7yuYBaKkRH3kcVy7Hxdj0mbrQd-zNqNwCxy_dEsZKPZToj6IX69PjyLGAQ-KyAL86_5ACy4C0Lcf12YEnL_jw/s400/2011_09_18_16_29_460007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675412105144260018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-69226047312090264992011-01-24T12:25:00.006-05:002011-01-24T13:27:04.264-05:00a new room<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span">Snowmagedon 2011 was about to kick in, and I knew that I would be spending some amount of time indoors. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span">It was time to get rid of teddy bear town border and get Q a big kid room. I took this picture and the new Ty Pennington bedspread (Sears = $35 thanks to a clearance price and a gift card) to the Color Jedi. She put together 3 color palettes for me. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Before</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPukaXqjaBcBlDslB4hrupbejwXkwF52GAqhqOfoCLgiiryQqqa2N_l04L3z-nxZ9P5F_WRlwazHvc0T79BTyc2M5TA6asgfoiZ6P2XdI11cdvXC1ThUN17_FdZZJCBuRRV76HFQ/s1600/DSC_0338.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPukaXqjaBcBlDslB4hrupbejwXkwF52GAqhqOfoCLgiiryQqqa2N_l04L3z-nxZ9P5F_WRlwazHvc0T79BTyc2M5TA6asgfoiZ6P2XdI11cdvXC1ThUN17_FdZZJCBuRRV76HFQ/s400/DSC_0338.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565806121461868306" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span">After....</span></div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDaT7bPOTa9zYzwFvX-BoStrI5S2mV5kKAjPKMmibOX1uOvWMBZDih-5Uhu51EWDB5znjy_Q0zpYIc0RRxwc7oBIcFtua7d46qB7g78Ik9hExWkidHtOlB4BPC9KhR4eKShES4A/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDaT7bPOTa9zYzwFvX-BoStrI5S2mV5kKAjPKMmibOX1uOvWMBZDih-5Uhu51EWDB5znjy_Q0zpYIc0RRxwc7oBIcFtua7d46qB7g78Ik9hExWkidHtOlB4BPC9KhR4eKShES4A/s400/DSC_0019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565807802732341778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"> I played it safe and went with the lightest color option. The Color Jedi had this awesome idea of having Quinn pull from his astronaut pict (on right) and make new canvases. (All artwork is his) I still have more things to do in his room....but this is where we are now. </span></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-8306425373643065492010-12-04T08:59:00.002-05:002010-12-04T09:02:08.072-05:00The Dog Days are Over<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNZkdLJnoSzGLdkn0e2uMmDU7YBlZ4NzC6wXyGa8bzsKIC3lfGFFXy3yZESwyk9jmttVbIa1OUXW85ItFEZMZNrexmOOLUOwNAU8TkbuJsYnxy-t_14dLA7UhNV0F-iQooM5Mcw/s1600/DSC_0196.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNZkdLJnoSzGLdkn0e2uMmDU7YBlZ4NzC6wXyGa8bzsKIC3lfGFFXy3yZESwyk9jmttVbIa1OUXW85ItFEZMZNrexmOOLUOwNAU8TkbuJsYnxy-t_14dLA7UhNV0F-iQooM5Mcw/s400/DSC_0196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546826913352403298" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Last night, the 'baby' put on his pjs (with buttons) by himself and brushed his teeth without anyone telling him to do so. He came downstairs fully ready and happy for bed, shocking us all. Then "The Dog Days are Over" from the Glee soundtrack came on the speakers. We did a celebration song and dance at full volume. Whoever says musical theater is not realistic is just. plain. wrong.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-17385463050783409642010-08-07T00:03:00.000-04:002010-08-07T00:03:58.819-04:00Usher<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5SJ1zeRt7ughWWmAFebw8k4jD8PnpPdCUJe941OU2EtvS3pECczaT0UuaQnG9aix9ptJTTroV0da4DVyyvWh4CodEMUWiUEei1iHF6y55ePvnmosjaOkk9VYeHagnQxFs3DzYg/s1600/IMG00562-20100806-1112.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5SJ1zeRt7ughWWmAFebw8k4jD8PnpPdCUJe941OU2EtvS3pECczaT0UuaQnG9aix9ptJTTroV0da4DVyyvWh4CodEMUWiUEei1iHF6y55ePvnmosjaOkk9VYeHagnQxFs3DzYg/s400/IMG00562-20100806-1112.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The boy after seeing Usher today: "Why is he famous? And why did he spray paint his car?"</div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-58890785259785633122010-07-24T14:10:00.003-04:002014-02-19T19:50:44.701-05:00sh*t their mom says<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">more crazy stuff i found my myself saying.....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Me to boy #2 before a doctor's appt:</span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">"I want you to go upstairs and clean your butt. I mean, your butt hole, specifically. Because if the doctor asks to see your butt hole, I want you to have the cleanest shiniest butt hole he's ever seen."</span></div>
McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-69774544909376120732010-07-23T15:54:00.002-04:002010-07-23T16:05:04.136-04:00July<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The garden is in full bloom -- I need to harvest, weed and put up the bounty. Last year I tried canning for the first time, but got too scared of things like, oh botulism and death.... and ended up putting everything in the freezer anyway. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Tonight I will make more freezer jams. I've made strawberry and peach so far this year.....and I can't make it fast enough. Tonight I will make more peach (98 cents a pound at Walmart), mango and blueberry preserves.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I think I have enough tomatoes and peppers to make salsa - but may end up making a nice garlic, tomato, basil, shrimp pasta dish. The kids may not like it -- but that is OK since I've got two new margarita glasses....that are begging to be put to use. </span></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-31292721216538835262010-07-08T21:10:00.005-04:002010-10-01T17:01:57.627-04:00The hills are alive<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Life has a great way of coming full circle.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> I stood in line tonight with my <i>Very Fairy Princess</i> book by Julie Andrews, waiting for</span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> her </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">to sign it.</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> None of the males in my family wanted to come with me. Whatever. I realize my dream cannot be forced upon my children as fathers sometimes do: ala Tiger Woods', or the Venus - Serena Williams' papas.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>As a preschooler, I played my parents' album of "The Sound of Music" over and over and over on an aqua blue record player. You remember those things, the needle hand had a penny taped to the top of it to keep it from skipping....Hours and days on end I spent in my room, singing and dancing</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> and imagining the scenes and lives behind the music. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">And then when I was about 5 years old, someone took me to my <i>first</i> movie...<i>The Sound of Music.</i> I s</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">tood a bit taller than the back of the seat in front of me and sang at the top of my lungs every song. I heard that I embarrassed and annoyed others, but not for one minute, myself.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>The scenes in the real movie weren't as magical as they were in my head of course because they didn't star <b><i>me</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">, of course</span><i>.</i></b>..in all </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">of my 5 year old fabulousness.<br />And then in a one-two punch came -- <i>Mary Poppins</i>. Julie Andrews was pure English-spoon-full-of-sugar magic. I needed her to be my nanny. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>Tonight, I waited in line about an hour and a half, and when my turn came to meet her, so did the tears. I truly hate that about myself. The crying thing. ugh so annoying. If there was one thing I could change about myself it would be that. Ok nevermind, make that the second thing I would change about myself, the first of course would be my hips, but I digress....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She said I was the second one in the line-up to cry, which didn't really make me feel any different. She said that she appreciates my emotions because she is usually the one doing the crying. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> She was as beautiful and gracious as I've imagined her. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>I thanked her for bringing me so much joy as a child and over the years. for filling my lonely girl head with music, dance and wonder. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">She spent a few minutes asking me questions, if the book was for me or another princess in my life. I gushed a bit about my boys and attempts to bring them over to Julie Andrews Land. She seemed to understand that perhaps all would not like to join me. She asked me about my boys and intuitively knew that I was was aiming for a princess somewhere along the way, and I wished my mom could lived long enough to have seen this. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>I normally am not a star-struck kind of gal, but I was tonight. I walked away from the curtained off room and some employees saw me as I dabbed away the rest of my tears. "Awww," one said, "that was pretty emotional, huh?"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>I stopped for a minute still not sure who or what just happened and said, "I either had to cry, or pee my pants." She thanked me for not making it the second.<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-14414052273007833292010-07-02T12:29:00.001-04:002010-07-02T12:29:57.305-04:00I can now blog from my phone. Just getting the hang of it. Took me a couple hours to figure out how to set it upMcMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-14958223923026220182010-07-02T12:27:00.001-04:002010-07-02T12:27:37.641-04:00IMG00467-20100619-1705.jpg<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAIni9WdlCcx81_VTX9xYAuNSBhhmC9PPkw0iBJycP16Bzl8P0WewEbsXhz3X6yBYkZRVp1jRwjfzCvBPNoxS83WN7XRAsxBINZSorZ_Epj4-4W2l9VhNDXdbm9XPWbwE9DnG3CQ/s1600/IMG00467-20100619-1705-757642.jpeg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAIni9WdlCcx81_VTX9xYAuNSBhhmC9PPkw0iBJycP16Bzl8P0WewEbsXhz3X6yBYkZRVp1jRwjfzCvBPNoxS83WN7XRAsxBINZSorZ_Epj4-4W2l9VhNDXdbm9XPWbwE9DnG3CQ/s400/IMG00467-20100619-1705-757642.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489346409467295234" /></a></p>A statue of 3 boys that looked like mine. The statue boys are in a water fight with other statue boys. We thought this was coolMcMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-36002561228747391522010-06-20T20:55:00.000-04:002010-06-20T20:55:27.545-04:00NYC<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr6EDa8xDsnHz8dr3OymfR9PCM324NlZ4yh-_qevz3B25ZiVzc10bsZ07I52oiqgr6HCMhEUd_fEyC3m9-lT3_65E0vSoGVzNQfUqlKXjLSUY1O8c7uR81-AgInd28Sx3jjgZ1A/s1600/DSC_0162.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr6EDa8xDsnHz8dr3OymfR9PCM324NlZ4yh-_qevz3B25ZiVzc10bsZ07I52oiqgr6HCMhEUd_fEyC3m9-lT3_65E0vSoGVzNQfUqlKXjLSUY1O8c7uR81-AgInd28Sx3jjgZ1A/s400/DSC_0162.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br />What we did on our summer vacation....We went (along with the entire subcontinent of India and Pakistan) to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. This is one of those rare photos where everone is looking in the general direction of the camera.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-79543428485993274812010-06-20T20:40:00.003-04:002010-06-20T20:50:27.999-04:00Toy STory #3I don't think I was supposed to cry, no, weep at the end of Toy Story 3, was I? <div>Andy grows up, goes to college sure sure, empty nest that's easy. But uhm let's see, it is afterall --MY blog how can I make this about ME?</div><div> Do you know that I have gone through Pixar people? No less than FOUR Buzz Lightyears and TWO Woodies? Dozens of Buzz underpants, pull-ups, t-shirts, hoodies, pajamas and costumes?<div>These movies (we're on our second copies of each DVD because we've worn them down) have been memorized and acted out. And now our last little boy goes to the big theater and asks for a new Buzz. </div></div><div>He will get one at $30-40, because our life is unlike the movies. Andy takes care of his toys and doesn't hand them down through two more brothers.</div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-19556674685058167432010-02-22T09:50:00.005-05:002010-02-22T17:28:33.553-05:00kids<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqP3afCKvZJjYXnLrqSw0LJrV0t5ebjfrZY0biOwd4Lrok3cf4HZpyLz3tEi6YK6SFYItUX0xvMfID83t-KB-mL6BhOy-vRo64YaLfBWyN0LHbTZ_tx3Xfzux9fU7z64ZawSweYQ/s1600-h/DSC_0488.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441085027972526370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqP3afCKvZJjYXnLrqSw0LJrV0t5ebjfrZY0biOwd4Lrok3cf4HZpyLz3tEi6YK6SFYItUX0xvMfID83t-KB-mL6BhOy-vRo64YaLfBWyN0LHbTZ_tx3Xfzux9fU7z64ZawSweYQ/s400/DSC_0488.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Perhaps, it is because I miss my mom. Perhaps, it is because I am desperately for my kids to have grandparents in their lives. Perhaps, it is because I want someone else to look at one of my kids and see that he is a beautiful, smart, compassionate child of a most awesome God. </div><br /><div>I guess I just want someone to see what I see.</div><br /><div>Yesterday, I got a taste of this when the boys' 'Aunt' Patty spent the day with them and gave me the best gift of all. Patty is not related by blood, but has been at each of the babies' baptisms. The boys have known her from the beginning and think she is an aunt. </div><div> </div><div>Before she pulled away in the driveway she said, "I left you a surprise." I found it later as I was going to my oft frequented spot-- the refrigerator. She left a letter in which she wrote about each boy and saw them for what I know they are, but often can't see because I am too busy correcting their manners, breaking up their fights and getting them to clean up after themselves. </div><br /><div>"Q - is very practical and loves to share his thoughts! He has a great sense of humor. "</div><br /><div>" K - is creative....and protective of the other two....and has a great deal of compassion for KC, helping him and encouraging him to 'try again!"</div><br /><div>"KC is definitely secure being the little brother. He knows that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">K&Q</span> are always there for him! Again a sense of humor that is so innocent but so quick! He has no trouble speaking his mind!"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is the human condition to be acknowledged and seen. . It is the mother's condition to have her children acknowledged and seen. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-21010216719283350332009-11-19T21:03:00.005-05:002009-11-19T21:12:36.564-05:00Happy Birthday. Now shut up and eat your brainsOur oldest turns 10 tomorrow. He also celebrates one year seizure (and medication) free this week. To mark this fabulous occasion, he said he wanted a brain cake.....so hear ya go. Don't let anyone tell ya that you don't have a lick of brains. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg4VWT-PtYdAsHTK2kPohGkhIpDVhbaoA6b1Vds8OaGF0x1f9kPD_AiDfIsnXhYiqIN1vrzkGKcSdH9VF930I6jk7NZ7KSDV8wOV8Qu5wq4CC5hltBDZNKfqILD3u4I9wmg31Yw/s1600/DSC_0405.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg4VWT-PtYdAsHTK2kPohGkhIpDVhbaoA6b1Vds8OaGF0x1f9kPD_AiDfIsnXhYiqIN1vrzkGKcSdH9VF930I6jk7NZ7KSDV8wOV8Qu5wq4CC5hltBDZNKfqILD3u4I9wmg31Yw/s400/DSC_0405.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406001277173682466" /></a>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-609326572030581472009-11-19T20:56:00.002-05:002009-11-19T21:48:10.933-05:00October 2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-eWmMWRM7MyaqrpEKvhyavLxyBKtM542FOdqgt0Iv5yk7XqYNSVDyx4g_zgsj77lLdc0_RlTH6l4uh3I7_83VBDfiuJXjYNurqO452jE3Qef2o_uo5yTdGldg00EWDQJ9N7_ZA/s1600/DSC_0256.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-eWmMWRM7MyaqrpEKvhyavLxyBKtM542FOdqgt0Iv5yk7XqYNSVDyx4g_zgsj77lLdc0_RlTH6l4uh3I7_83VBDfiuJXjYNurqO452jE3Qef2o_uo5yTdGldg00EWDQJ9N7_ZA/s400/DSC_0256.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406009940949621346" /></a>Apple picking<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFm4vJoNnFiK4OV7pWoWHalbAICIn8WnQQnUgpJaYodPeH5Tx8LMWB9OHrY0ONLhe5Qr2XUuTcixBpVDmD3zFwfKIYKSvBk0MzQh0WWw_U4eo8s2_Kw6vkrwBDJebfILU6PXKTEg/s1600/DSC_0253.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFm4vJoNnFiK4OV7pWoWHalbAICIn8WnQQnUgpJaYodPeH5Tx8LMWB9OHrY0ONLhe5Qr2XUuTcixBpVDmD3zFwfKIYKSvBk0MzQh0WWw_U4eo8s2_Kw6vkrwBDJebfILU6PXKTEg/s400/DSC_0253.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406009453033580674" /></a>Don't sit under the apple tree for anyone else but me...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwmrVSrKx6eq2eUFpvHcQshmbZOAltl2yTD1B7oH5yY0klhHvwEVrKwpH_L_EFUWTAHbvoydwKHvXmuOiO75sA1CWmezoqmlZjIAQjnNaMydFvg5EV-vOrGwifu5OvHznEG7-jg/s1600/DSC_0214.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwmrVSrKx6eq2eUFpvHcQshmbZOAltl2yTD1B7oH5yY0klhHvwEVrKwpH_L_EFUWTAHbvoydwKHvXmuOiO75sA1CWmezoqmlZjIAQjnNaMydFvg5EV-vOrGwifu5OvHznEG7-jg/s400/DSC_0214.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406000479482239746" /></a>Pumpkin Patch<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_jpUMs7KjLkhoMBkCQW6ThHdEYJ6yfaOYVn60xndHzN7Gnc8QfBcdNHU_ueQ_6tVuqZYTu38eJi42mCoLKPbdRms_b3N3dXdSSQjpfT9FcPGnrO42lUjac3p8R1huPjaaE2lYw/s1600/DSC_0229.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_jpUMs7KjLkhoMBkCQW6ThHdEYJ6yfaOYVn60xndHzN7Gnc8QfBcdNHU_ueQ_6tVuqZYTu38eJi42mCoLKPbdRms_b3N3dXdSSQjpfT9FcPGnrO42lUjac3p8R1huPjaaE2lYw/s400/DSC_0229.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406000476102251954" /></a>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-89936113854743189582009-11-04T17:05:00.005-05:002009-11-05T13:52:00.405-05:00HOME!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">What is that saying about home? Something about it being humble and no other place like it? I can't remember because I haven't slept since very well. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">KC</span> the wonder kid is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BAAACK</span>. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After this morning initial estimate of being at 90 %, he ate something and and then started climbing and ripping up the room. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">His diagnosis .... <a href="https://health.google.com/health/ref/Metabolic+acidosis">metabolic acidosis</a>. And as I said before, his history of licking and putting everything in his mouth -- made the doctors concerned that he got into some kind of toxic substance. The pediatrician said his blood levels were close to normal today, but considering his behavior we were fine to be released. Her only concern was that his body did not react to treatment as expected. Therefore if there are any future incidents, we'll have to investigate a cause. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">For the two older boys -- they are in quarantine upstairs. Both tested negative for strep and influenza, but they are taking Tamiflu as a precaution because of KC's hospitalization. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The love and generosity of friends has inspired and overwhelmed me. A friend is bringing my exhausted soul dinner tonight. Another friend picked the baby and me up from the hospital so we wouldn't have to pile all the boys in the van. The messages on Facebook, email, texts, phone -- I have clung to every word of hope, prayer and laughter. Bits of joy - it is what I live for.</span></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-86586393036524160692009-11-04T06:04:00.002-05:002009-11-04T06:39:19.452-05:00wed 6am<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">There are meowing noises coming from the hospital bed next to me. The sweetest sounds I do believe I have ever heard. KC is back to about 90 %. He still has low energy and is content to be bedridden, but is past the whiny fussy stage he was in yesterday.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday I rejoiced when he started moaning and fussing, because it was a 100% improvement from being near unconscious. When someone can stick him with a needle and draw blood without him even opening his eyes, it is bad.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This morning he is charming the nurses with his sideways smile and meowing his answers back to them, as if he's pulling off some big joke on them. But we've got his number.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We are in a holding pattern this morning until the doctors can have a last look at his lab tests from this morning. The toxicology tests have become negative, which rules out one of the initial fears that he got into something he shouldn't have. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Last night he ate for the first time in four days -- rice, applesauce and something like 12 packages of saltine crackers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">God has been so good to us. His presence has shined in the kind words of friends and talents and generousity of the staff. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And today -- we will figure out what we are going to do about going home. The oldest two have the flu fevers that hover around 103-104 if you let the Motrin slide by a a few minutes. I don't know that we should let the baby back into the plague just yet. Off to order His Royal Kittyness some food.....</span></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-17994326803036002062009-11-03T13:05:00.002-05:002009-11-03T13:08:42.197-05:00tues 1pm update<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif, 'Arial Unicode MS'; font-size: medium; border-collapse: collapse; "><div id=":11z" class="ii gt" style="font-size: 13px; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 15px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 15px; padding-bottom: 20px; ">Good NEWS!!! -- Kenji will be moved out of the ICU today!!! His labs are almost normal. They will move him to a regular room for the tonight. We expect to go home tomorrow. He smiled for the first time today and is becoming more of himself. The staff entertainment unit (or whatever they are called) just brought in a craft and he glued and colored. He also has more interest in playing.<div><br /></div><div>Bad News -- Kai and Quinn have some other kind of ailment, so Shawn will be at home with them today. The initial strep tests are negative. (Though for Quinn they usually are, so we had the strep test sent for the one day test) They are treated them both protectively with Tami-flu, since Kenji will soon be home...and well, what is that saying about the last thing i need...?</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for all your notes and calls of support.</div><div><br /></div></div><div class="hq gt" style="font-size: 13px; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 15px; clear: both; "></div><div class="hi" style="background-image: none; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(247, 247, 247); padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; width: auto; background-position: initial initial; "></div><div class="gA gt" style="font-size: 13px; background-image: none; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(247, 247, 247); padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; width: auto; background-position: initial initial; "></div></span>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-20166387077083616922009-11-03T11:35:00.001-05:002009-11-03T13:04:37.649-05:00Monday 11/2 update<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif, 'Arial Unicode MS'; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><br />Just a little update about Kenji.<br />Kenji is in ICU tonight at Scottish Rite Children's Hospital. He started the weekend off with what we thought was just a stomach bug. Vomiting started Sat afternoon and continued throughout the weekend.<br />We brought him in this morning for what we thought was some simple rehydration. I thought he'd be hooked up to IVs get some zofran and we'd be on our way.<br />His blood work came back showing that his Bi-carb levels were at a critical level. Normal is a 20 -- His was 8. After getting some fluids it dropped further to 6. This is apparently something that happens when during dehydration -- but his organs began to show signs of trouble too. Increased heart rate etc... And given his history of putting things in his mouth (they know us around here) they were concerned that there may be another cause.<br />The ICU doc indicated that he should only be in ICU for one night and will mostly likely go to a regular room tomorrow.<br />Kenji is sleeping comfortably now. (in fact -- they just drew blood from the top of his hand and he didn't even wake up)<br />Continue to pray for God's healing hands in this.<br />Will update as I can,</span>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-81613081544478063212009-10-03T00:02:00.002-04:002009-10-03T00:17:49.921-04:00Baby no more<span style="font-family:arial;">Have I mentioned how much I do NOT enjoy planning or throwing birthday parties for my children? I know this is not a statement that will move me up on the mother of the year rankings, but tis true. I do enjoy going to other parties that other people have thoughtfully planned and taking home a goody bag at the end of it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">We approach the 4th birthday of my third son. We celebrate much -- the child speaks, he goes to the potty and does what he's supposed to in it (90% of the time.) He can recognize letters, numbers, shapes. This was the boy that seemed lost in his silence for what I can only call the <em>lost years. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">So he needs a party really. A few weeks ago we went to Ohio to witness my niece's wedding. It was a traditional celebration complete with flowers, song, dance. The boys enjoyed all of the festivities. After we ate, danced and celebrated for hours, I dressed the baby in his night clothes so he could just be plopped into bed when we got back to our friends'. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">"Mama, was this my birthday party?" he asked as I pulled up his PJ pants? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">pause</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">"Yes it was," I said. "We need to thank Uncle Rob."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-53563289573274289832009-06-25T20:54:00.003-04:002009-06-25T21:02:58.357-04:00end of JuneLast day of VBS is tomorrow for the two oldest boys. <br />They have expressed their annoyance and embarrassment of me writing about them, chatting about them with other people. They told me to stop writing about them on Facebook.<br />I remember feeling the same way about my mom when I was a kid, minus the blog and Facebook thing of course, but for crying out loud I had a beauty shop full of women to contend with.<br />It is cheap therapy for me, of course, and I haven't even really hit the terrible stuff.<br />speaking of .... I turned 41 yesterday, I ate myself silly to celebrate. One of my favorite restaurants is <a href="http://www.flyingbiscuit.com/default.aspx">Flying Biscuit</a> and I am determined to try everything on the menu before I fly to the Big Biscuit in the sky.McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-12639796459738551072009-06-21T20:07:00.004-04:002009-06-21T20:26:31.894-04:00Worm Farm -- part one<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHmvcP3kMF5U2wIFhSKezVHUASatuUoYUFO-LpDvcdeFNhloqJjdjlD4RHOJ3HYEtxS39acPI98yN7rQ1VI5KlqbFdTlHe8M4aD6-_joakN1hPkzuPTETlIlYgUhA6IBs2KHI0Xw/s1600-h/DSC_0288.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349937904754430418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHmvcP3kMF5U2wIFhSKezVHUASatuUoYUFO-LpDvcdeFNhloqJjdjlD4RHOJ3HYEtxS39acPI98yN7rQ1VI5KlqbFdTlHe8M4aD6-_joakN1hPkzuPTETlIlYgUhA6IBs2KHI0Xw/s400/DSC_0288.JPG" /></a> A couple of months ago, our mailman Barney delivered 1000 red wiggler worms to our front door. We began our quest to start our own <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">vermicomposting</span> project.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiW2VCpLNfmaAPTi_8dNsVbacF3frNzfT7vQf_BbAzDmq5KDmlD5k6_TUl1peboQ4tKwHCGoBcPZBvAnnAHEGDCaPm4h3Ai0JfnKB4y73rRCLE85FPw9GLTXzfSr6UvvjDJzAobQ/s1600-h/DSC_0287.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349937897328165346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiW2VCpLNfmaAPTi_8dNsVbacF3frNzfT7vQf_BbAzDmq5KDmlD5k6_TUl1peboQ4tKwHCGoBcPZBvAnnAHEGDCaPm4h3Ai0JfnKB4y73rRCLE85FPw9GLTXzfSr6UvvjDJzAobQ/s400/DSC_0287.JPG" /></a> You can sense the joy (or is that fear and disgust) on the face of the children. "What has our mother gotten us into now?" I know, I know, I'm a mind-reader.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHtAAAr1sFMD2l5OrKw5Mb8TB2VtPmRGw97bCjLlOVdXkx-SWMvowHdNS9ib_MoGhTaBOgAzmgHbC0b-Fn3he4KXqbO8Ifztpq1XP1yK3eIL79PndcaAZ5UTFoHv8rtMgn2ryMpw/s1600-h/DSC_0282.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349937890412170402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHtAAAr1sFMD2l5OrKw5Mb8TB2VtPmRGw97bCjLlOVdXkx-SWMvowHdNS9ib_MoGhTaBOgAzmgHbC0b-Fn3he4KXqbO8Ifztpq1XP1yK3eIL79PndcaAZ5UTFoHv8rtMgn2ryMpw/s400/DSC_0282.JPG" /></a><br />Our friend owns a landscaping company and supplied us with plastic flats that potted plants come in. We layered kitchen scraps (vegetable and fruit peels, egg shells, paper towels, paper bags and even a pair of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cotton</span> socks) in the trays and stacked them inside this blue <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Rubbermaid</span> container. </div><div>The amazing results to come in pictures to come.....</div><div>Garden update...</div><div>We've got yellow squash and cucumbers coming out our ears nowadays.<br /><br /></div><div></div></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-61823072430443209862009-05-19T07:53:00.005-04:002009-05-19T08:19:25.462-04:00good deals<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hpgfsLaKwY9-_yIAm5MbiyKERGwSPL8WVnPMcdTrc14M8nTjtIYtSwHbfupQrNQnT6e6WhtU7EMsn0rCNOOs1mK8UaPH_Kyguc-mXP47LVh3ZVc9367988cZuZRakfDP2zJ8YA/s1600-h/DSC_0499.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337504599471825906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hpgfsLaKwY9-_yIAm5MbiyKERGwSPL8WVnPMcdTrc14M8nTjtIYtSwHbfupQrNQnT6e6WhtU7EMsn0rCNOOs1mK8UaPH_Kyguc-mXP47LVh3ZVc9367988cZuZRakfDP2zJ8YA/s400/DSC_0499.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Our spring garden is fast moving into summer. So we are in the process of moving out the spring lettuces. The boys organized a organic produce stand. Neighbors generously stopped to shop our wares. I stood like the fat field boss drinking coffee and barking orders (ok, suggestions) </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz5TmmQwcn9Q12GvdpBdVXZZ-ipNHYIf1zflYC7JCUMzzgDoJZOUUYnLE8KHCLrWF0gqnli9Z2O_vUTFvZ2SyIdhqDws-6zNS7irtye1ZljoYEkUZ0LeNL7-sliMwS18WuY6BBTQ/s1600-h/DSC_0489.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 397px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337504602744926930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz5TmmQwcn9Q12GvdpBdVXZZ-ipNHYIf1zflYC7JCUMzzgDoJZOUUYnLE8KHCLrWF0gqnli9Z2O_vUTFvZ2SyIdhqDws-6zNS7irtye1ZljoYEkUZ0LeNL7-sliMwS18WuY6BBTQ/s400/DSC_0489.JPG" /></a><br />A good sale always starts with the marketing team. Here are two of the members now displaying their ad campaign. Each person that drove or walked up had to hold green sticker sheet in hand and admire its beauty. There was also a list of our products on the back. We sold: romaine, arugula, green leaf lettuce, oregano, and flat leaf parsley.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mIcxotdz-iJ69NPe7BPAUhPz8RJaRK9r6m62RHqVGu3rHg7SWWlbV1tt3t8512ZprqlOo4cCoTWrg7rgUXX2VZiOkBO612scvRAFDzN9jgYoawKNp5xHsaAEg8m7Ton0AiaA1Q/s1600-h/DSC_0497.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337506881144336178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mIcxotdz-iJ69NPe7BPAUhPz8RJaRK9r6m62RHqVGu3rHg7SWWlbV1tt3t8512ZprqlOo4cCoTWrg7rgUXX2VZiOkBO612scvRAFDzN9jgYoawKNp5xHsaAEg8m7Ton0AiaA1Q/s400/DSC_0497.JPG" /></a> Pied Piper? Snake Charmer? Really there is nothing that draws the crowds like a welcoming rendition of <em>Hot Cross Buns </em>on the recorder<em>.</em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM3C4BIP6KBbCnvHDy_G9ucNnhzM4ZJ_UtCmMVtczYn5AY9Cucdxi3oOLeM3itAlUQUoATGvCGXPBWOyztHD1s0rTpbt6jEu3p6AOYbBfAonnM9-lgSbpuha7PRBgkYJciXtcDQ/s1600-h/DSC_0491.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337506875344782146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM3C4BIP6KBbCnvHDy_G9ucNnhzM4ZJ_UtCmMVtczYn5AY9Cucdxi3oOLeM3itAlUQUoATGvCGXPBWOyztHD1s0rTpbt6jEu3p6AOYbBfAonnM9-lgSbpuha7PRBgkYJciXtcDQ/s400/DSC_0491.JPG" /></a> Boys made $16.50. Talk about sustainable gardening. Notice the baby holding a paper replica of our lettuce it says "WOW"<br /><br /><div></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-6638104484440947502009-04-17T11:18:00.004-04:002009-04-17T11:29:47.027-04:00Spring 2009April showers brough hail last week. Oh it was very exciting! We collected them and KC ate all the little ice balls.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwc4S_cfujo46WZ_aFzecIL-PcYyZdL5vrQEucnIoE3EST8kGY-2N9KNubxrWkZU95-zKoNLe2EgKmh4yZTAVQuliAWahD_HbogqgTgl_52eHZckq2DdHAZ0hWAxtAbvh0ZY_2g/s1600-h/DSC_0294.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325681682741107826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwc4S_cfujo46WZ_aFzecIL-PcYyZdL5vrQEucnIoE3EST8kGY-2N9KNubxrWkZU95-zKoNLe2EgKmh4yZTAVQuliAWahD_HbogqgTgl_52eHZckq2DdHAZ0hWAxtAbvh0ZY_2g/s400/DSC_0294.JPG" /></a>All hail the chiefs....on Easter Sunday<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FX6BSuPlGZeVKvzfXx0Mc8qcXJMUWJujJlrtsp6BAkGGH92RAHrgCA1C42LwaqMORngfB9lJVJe8tBmoYIdVel1Oe9PeY45vA6GiaCWa3K1tkegnLnZ2doAhTARDyWQ68WT7bw/s1600-h/DSC_0335.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325681205299621762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FX6BSuPlGZeVKvzfXx0Mc8qcXJMUWJujJlrtsp6BAkGGH92RAHrgCA1C42LwaqMORngfB9lJVJe8tBmoYIdVel1Oe9PeY45vA6GiaCWa3K1tkegnLnZ2doAhTARDyWQ68WT7bw/s400/DSC_0335.JPG" /></a> </div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-23651062490481267782009-04-09T12:06:00.001-04:002009-04-09T12:12:33.860-04:00The baby's new obsession....<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_J0GbEDAmi9kpvIfJ62sw2Pb9EHdhPLqXmNlRpHP2E81T3Jbg_Bk_0HPX_8wHUcWWEaIFVg7gg-ZoVfs-jyYTtIZLoTVOVX-PLzQS-J_IKOhKGQC6-LzSbMY4-YWcBtzz_6NMkg/s1600-h/DSC_0239.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_J0GbEDAmi9kpvIfJ62sw2Pb9EHdhPLqXmNlRpHP2E81T3Jbg_Bk_0HPX_8wHUcWWEaIFVg7gg-ZoVfs-jyYTtIZLoTVOVX-PLzQS-J_IKOhKGQC6-LzSbMY4-YWcBtzz_6NMkg/s400/DSC_0239.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk3EvAYdl8ZMw3bAY0kAx-nxjtUMsxKHY885L7zGPF6MfpfCEARFEPtrUvOxMCUynI40o51NgThoQgqq5xuoQezpJxyc3Yav2GPjduUQOGuJDb70qj5vTAz-SVxFmBlAutCZSQA/s1600-h/DSC_0241.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk3EvAYdl8ZMw3bAY0kAx-nxjtUMsxKHY885L7zGPF6MfpfCEARFEPtrUvOxMCUynI40o51NgThoQgqq5xuoQezpJxyc3Yav2GPjduUQOGuJDb70qj5vTAz-SVxFmBlAutCZSQA/s400/DSC_0241.JPG" /></a><br /><br />KC is obsessed with our cat recently. Nevermind that Baka, the wonder cat, has been here from the get-go...suddenly we must always know where said kitty is and what he is doing *at*all*times*. Baka is just annoyed by the whole thing.</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30760565.post-60876255971689172732009-04-09T11:58:00.001-04:002009-04-09T12:02:54.136-04:00Spring 2009<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1i2QMWiUKNFJlL-BLKmFKGitKoNLN0D5jxEd_rGiYm6OfZgpfkZ9rnG2HNpc-xWELGvGAkXn5JwfX3rOZArTngUX5xifUGNopE2RWdGzHt4iUG-KTEBPWnMXEJPtX6UHsA7hPPA/s1600-h/DSC_0204.JPG"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1i2QMWiUKNFJlL-BLKmFKGitKoNLN0D5jxEd_rGiYm6OfZgpfkZ9rnG2HNpc-xWELGvGAkXn5JwfX3rOZArTngUX5xifUGNopE2RWdGzHt4iUG-KTEBPWnMXEJPtX6UHsA7hPPA/s400/DSC_0204.JPG" /></a> </div><br />For you Mom <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>McMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15423079241798823222noreply@blogger.com1