A kindred spirit...how exciting. I have also been, over the years, fairly good at talking myself out of trouble. Not always, you understand, but often enough to make me willing to try every single time I'm headed for more hot water. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />



I think it goes beyond "good" to essential, and life-sustaining. A long time ago, Pep said she found the personal self-deprecation here to be "grotesque." I'm perfectly willing to accept that many people will find strange the propensity of some to laugh when the humor isn't necessarily obvious. You know the old saying, "Laugh, and the world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone." That's not always true. Sometimes when you laugh the world thinks you're nuts. But if it's funny, laugh anyway. You'll be stronger for it, and a little better-prepared to handle the tough stuff which is doubtless just around the corner. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

I know it would've looked weird to others yesterday to watch the 3 of us on the phone laughing about the message I'd left on Neaksis' answering machine. She was stunned, and initially very puzzled to come home and find my voice on her machine, saying in a very quiet, solemn voice, "The funeral is tomorrow at 3PM. Dillion will be buried right near Hans' grave. I don't want you to feel like you have to come , because I know this is upsetting for you and you don't have to be there if it will be too much for you. We'll understand if you feel you can't make it." And she asked me, "Mom, why is there this message telling me not to come to the funeral if I can't handle it?" Which is when I realized that I'd called the wrong number, and left the message at the wrong house. It wasn't the message, or the funeral, either dead baby, or anything like that which was funny. It was just visualizing Neaksis' initial confusion as she sat listening to a very serious message from her own mother, informing her that her presence had suddenly become optional. Even if you left out sisterly loyalty and love, Neaksis will still be the photographer, as well as #1 assistant for juvenile crowd control, so suddenly hearing that she could stay home if she'd prefer, would have seemed very odd, indeed.

I don't think it's disrespectful to the dead to continue living, nor to find enjoyment in life wherever you can. Laughing yesterday, or even today, doesn't detract from the tears which will inevitably be shed when the time comes to say good-bye. In the past, I used to wonder about people talking and laughing at post-burial dinners, but then we started having losses in our own families, and now I understand a lot better.

t&l

We took it one step further and started laughing at the funerals. (Probably not this one. No time to store up any funny stuff.) Grandpa made everybody laugh during his tribute to his mother, and everybody laughed during my little talk at Grandma's funeral. Laughing is ok.

Hi t&l, Neak & SS -

I see I have some catching up to do....what page did I last read... I'll have to dig back a few!

OMG...I just saw about Neaklet, I am so very sorry. This makes me very sad. Prayers and loving thoughts to you all.

Now I see his name is Dillon. Very very sad...

I swear you all feel like family. I'm taking this very hard.
be back later

We are back from the burial. Some friends made supper, and indeed enough for most of the next week.

He was so tiny. I couldn't bring myself to touch him - he was so fragile and looked as if he would break if breathed on. I held him once, and even with layer after layer of fabric, the whole bundle barely filled my cupped hands.

The Pwintheth held him, too.

He should have been almost a foot long, and weighing nearly a pound.

I am so glad I decided to see him. I would always have regretted it if I hadn't.

Please also pray for AJ's mother. We just found out she may have pneumonia and is in the hospital. More info should be forthcoming soon, I hope.

Neak -

I'm so glad you got to hold him. When I had my miscarriage at 20 weeks, I never thought of such a thing. One moment I was pregnant, and then I wasn't. I had emergency surgery because I almost bled to death. Just before going under I asked the doctor if the baby could be saved, and he said I was under the influence of the drugs. He told me I was talking crazy.

I never found out the cause, the sex of the baby, nothing. It still bothers me 25 years later.

Although I know you are very heart broken, I think the way everything has been handled will help in the end.

Neaksis here for T&L. Neak and AJ are on their way to the emergency room right now. During our little funeral dinner (thoughtfully provided by our good friends) the Dervish fell and cut his head open on the window sill. So, instead of languishing at home, they are headed back to the hospital.

Sigh.

Neaksis - Thanks for the update. Gosh, what else can go wrong? It seems like it is one thing after another. How are you doing tonight?

Neaksis

let us know how things went pls with the Dervish. Neak & AJ as are you, are all in my prayers.

A long time ago my DD fell and cut her head from eye to forehead. Now though not deep it was a fairly nice splt to her skull and was pouring blood ...those cuts always do.

so I placed pressure on it, wrapped it, drove to the base hospital with both kids, she was about 3, my DS 2, and I was covered in blood.

First they thought it was me, then when we sorted that out they finally got DD into a treatment room, when she went into hysterics, the doc could not get near her, in the end the chief surgeon told her "Would you like your Dad to fix you up honey?" Complete silence then a little 'Yes please"

SO, 2 hours later Aussie comes in, camo on, stinking of smoke and 2 weeks of non bathing, and was taken off to get clean.... never could find out why those nurses were giggling so much but I was preoccuppied ... so out he comes and cooly as can be picks up the sutures and talking to DD and with the doc giving her a local along the cut, sews her cut while she talked about the picture she painted for him.

DD promptly fell asleep in dads arms, after, he turns around to me, covered in gore with DS in my arms, biting my lips, asking the doc if she was alright.. perfect apart from the cut ... and hes says "Crikey girl you look a bit of a mess, what happened to you?" ..I never hit him once you know.

There must be a moral in the story somewhere, but really it was to say these cuts are mostly lots of blood and headaches but nearly always look worse than they are.

Hoping all is ok

AW

AJ says to tell you he has a few more gray hairs now. Other than that, the Dervish is, well, the Dervish. He needed 8-10 stitches to close the nice gash, very deep.

He took it like a trooper, in spite of screaming a good share of the way there, "I HATE SHOTS!!!!!!!! I DON'T WANT THE DOCKER TO GIVE ME A SHOT!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It was hard work to calm him down, and we made it all the way through his version of Elijah (you remember him - the man in the Bible, who during the time of no rain was brought food by vultures), and part-way through Jonah, before we got there.

He kept the staff in stitches, too, with his nonstop pattering and jabbering about every topic under the sun. A beautiful moment was during the intake, when the nurse asked him, "Does anyone hurt you at home?" Naturally, without missing a beat, he answered "Yes!"

The nurse nodded sagely. "Who hurts you?"

"My brudder. He hits me and punches me."

I couldn't resist. "And who hurts your brother?"

Shamefacedly, "I do. I punch him and hit him and kick him, and then he punches me. In the face. Him have big mussles."

What they must think of our family! ??????

So he is back home now, fast asleep and quite the conquering hero. They even gave him the hemostats that they used to make his headdress/drape, so he could not be more thrilled.

I'm going to bed now before I have a nervous breakdown. Got to rest up for whatever he's planning for us tomorrow. The only good news is he had a bit of a fever back, so maybe he will be slightly docile again. Yeah, right.

so glad neak I was really hoping it was a stitch & patch job... though I panic if its a over grown toe nail!

Every time I hear of your darling dervish I think OMG what have I done..I'm too old for this !

Who's telling this kid Bible stories, anyway? Stephen King? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />




<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

Tell me which hospital you went to, please. I don't want to accidentally show up there, either as a patient or a nurse!

t&l

Be very careful not to get hurt in or around San Andreas. We have never been there before, hopefully will never go there again, but can guarantee the staff who treated the Dervish will remember him for some time to come.

I forgot to mention the part where he told the Dr. and nurse about how his sister would try to kick him, and he would catch her foot and go like this: *moves clasped hands back and forth violently*. He freely admitted that she would only do this after he tried and tried to push her off the couch. The nurse had great sympathy for the poor, maligned Pwintheth. She still thought the Dervish was adorable, though, and said he was a real turbine. The Dr. had no trouble seeing the resemblance to Dash from the Incredibles.

Back to bed for now. The kids are gone to church, and AJ is here to take care of me while I rest. What a good husband, and a blessing!

You have my word. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

The Dervish fell asleep during church, and I carefully let him slumber until the bell was rung for potluck. Be sure and remember to thank me tonight when he doesn't want to go to bed. Oh, wait--how will you tell that from any other night?! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I'll get online later, but right now I'm the prison warden for the 3 kids who committed egregious offenses against society on the way home from church, and are currently incarcerated in Grandma's Home-style Penitentiary...actual penitence not required.

I did want to put this up quickly, though, since it's long been a favorite of mine. For years, I'd intended to have it sung at my funeral, and whenever I was "down" I'd go to the piano and play it (the theme from "Finlandia"). It got to be a family joke (to everybody else <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />) because they could tell how I was feeling whenever they heard this song. Over the years, though, I've come to appreciate it for the depth of its meaning, completely unrelated to funerals, mine included. This morning HP was the speaker and he chose this song with which to close the service...and that's what reminded me of the poem, and made me want to share.

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain--
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart;
And all is dark, and in the vale of tears.
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: Thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness, all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord;
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still my soul: when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed, we shall meet at last.




Are you troubled today? God is still in charge. Be still, and know...

t&l

Here was my trick for putting kids to bed. I always bought lots of books for them, and encouraged books as presents. At bedtime (that would be 7:30PM) I let them lay in bed and read.

If they are "reading" (picture books help for little ones), they don't feel like it is the end of the fun. But when they lay in bed and read, they usually fall asleep very quickly. Around our house, we never had problems with going to bed.

And the best part was mom got some peace and quiet, and my boys grew up to by excellent readers.

we always had a very mixed time when the two grown ups were kids. Aussie could never see WHY a set bed time was required, he felt while he was up and playing with them it was ok.
Never mind if the poor little ones hsd to be up at 5.30 to eat breaky and then get the school bus by 6 to get into the base by 8.20 after collecting a bus load of kids. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Then when he was gone for weeks I had to use a rod of iron to get them into bed at a reasonable time so they wouldn't sleep at school!

The joys of living in remote communities. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

Surprisingly, books at bedtime work for the Dervish, as well as they did for his Uncle Flard, long, long ago. Sometime I need to find the picture and post it of Flard lying in his crib, passed out cold, with a book almost as big as he was in his lap! The only way a book would put Mr. Computer and the Pwintheth to sleep was if somebody whapped them over the head with it. Otherwise they'd stay up and read till midnight!

Well, I've just spent a breathless Saturday night watching Diva #1 (the Pwintheth is also Diva #1 since neither of them can stand to be #2) use her birthday kit to assemble a potholder. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/ooo.gif" alt="" /> Neak said to let her know when our noses started to bleed. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> Boy I haven't had this much fun since the last time I had a tooth pulled! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

I sent my uncle a copy of Neak's upcoming book, via email, for him to review prior to publication. He's a preacher, and after the last book came out he wondered why she hadn't incorporated some pertinent point he felt should've been included. So this time I thought I'd give him a chance to give his input while it still counted. Guess what? That bad old "Stan" is busy up in Washington, too, wreaking havoc and causing trouble. Either that, or dear Uncle can't type "Satan" any better than Neak can...<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> So, when I offer the man a chance to make suggestions, what does he do? Thanks for asking. I'll tell you. He says he loved it, and so does my cousin who's reading it now, while my aunt waits impatiently for her turn...and doesn't make any suggestions at all!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> I think today was a nice day, though, for her to hear something positive and good. Probably easier to take right now than a detailed critique of her book's "flaws," of which she would've been completely unaware till that very moment!!

I was really relieved to read her post yesterday that she was glad she saw the baby. It wasn't originally her intention, and when she suddenly switched horses on me in midstream, then gasped and burst into tears as soon as she saw him, I was very afraid that something bad had just happened, without knowing exactly what. I was so glad to go online and find out what she was thinking, and that it was OK! How on earth would we communicate without MB? Talk, you say? How retro. How quaint. How yesterday...<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />
t&l

t&l,

It's fascinating to me that it is EASIER to post here, it feels safer somehow than talking to someone eye to eye!

Counter-intuitive huh!

Glad to hear everyone made it through the funeral ok. I've been praying for all of you.

Hope AJ and Neak get some rest!

Gotta love the Dervish!

I don't think so, necessarily. When you talk to people, they interrupt, they get distracted, they mentally wander off in the middle of your oration. When you write stuff down, you can get your whole thought in without interruption (and not just edgewise, either! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />). It can be assimilated by your target audience more than once, should they choose to read it again. You have a chance to edit in a way that's impossible when the words are rolling out of your actual mouth. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> And besides, there's all that messy human interaction that you risk when you talk to someone face-to-face. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

Not that our family skips the direct stuff (you may have guessed <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />), but I would've had a hard time asking her directly why she decided to see the baby at the last minute, or why she reacted so strongly when she did. How on earth would I ever know if it was a good time to ask, or if she was having a fleeting, peaceful moment that I was about to disrupt by untimely words? Writing is a good thing, and the very anonymity of this forum allows a freedom of expression that would be hindered if we were, say, a group of fellow church members that had to see each other week by week, after such frank confessions! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

As for the Dervish, most of the love he gets has just a tinge of fatigue with it, for some reason. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> If his injury has slowed him down any, I'm going to have to get out my electron microscope to find it. I have Neak's 3 kids today. Mr. Computer and the Pwintheth are doing their home school work at yesterday's Home-style Penitentiary, today renamed Noah's Reform School. The 2 scholars <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> have actually been doing quite well, comparatively speaking. The Dervish doesn't have anything set to do, so has been attempting to amuse himself without getting into trouble...not an easy feat for him. Awhile ago, a certain anonymous individual <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> went into the bathroom and seriously polluted the atmosphere. During the process, the Dervish was called into the bathroom to answer a question. He came and opened the door, looked around, wrinkled his nose ever-so-slightly, then backed out quietly and closed the door...all without ever saying a word. (He answered his question from outside the door.) Awhile later, I saw him lugging a little fan around, and when he headed for the bathroom (now empty, with door closed) I asked him, "What do you think you're going to do with that fan?" He looked at me like I was crazy, and replied, "But, Noah, I doying put da fan in dis room. It not smeyoh bewwy dood in dere." At least we can be sure that with the Dervish in their house, AJ and Neak's grieving won't be entirely unrelieved by either excitement or humor.

t&l