Let Us Give Thanks and Responses

Our family is looking forward to celebrating Thanksgiving this week. My brother drove in tonight from Utah with his life partner Kirt and will be spending the week in Duncan with my parents. We will be there off and on during the week, but with the kids and school and me having to work until Wednesday, we will not be able to be there the whole time. So on their way through, Jerry and Kirt stopped off to visit us and Shannon asked the obvious question, "What are you going to do in Duncan for the whole week?" It got the obvious answer, "We have no idea." Duncan, where excitement happens!

However, my kids love Duncan and we are actually very excited for this week. My kids were extremely excited to see their uncle again after reconnecting over the Labor day weekend, and it was the first time Kirt had ever gotten to meet Logan and Kate. We are guaranteed to have many hard fought battles over cards or other games that we will introduce them to. My only concern is that my son Braden will at some point take us to that area where we dare not tread...POLITICS! I don't really have a huge fear as Jerry knows my views on abortion. I have been very up front that that is probably my one driving issue above all others. I have never asked his specific views on it, but I am fairly certain he supported Obama in the presidential election. Earlier this year when Braden asked if we wanted Obama to win, we explained that we didn't because he was pro abortion. Those of you with six-year olds know exactly where this conversation is headed. He asked what abortion is. We explained as delicately as we could and after a 10 minute explanation, it all boiled down to this. "So son, do you understand why we don't want Obama to win?" "Yeah, he kills babies." Nice Son!

For whatever reason, he and Logan have really stuck with this McCain and Obama thing. We will periodically hear them in the bath with Braden saying, "Ok, I am John McCain and you are Barack Obama." I don't know what they do, I don't think I want to know. Anyway, if Obama comes up at all, Braden immediately spews out, "He kills babies." I am just waiting for that to occur some time this week. I am sure Jerry and Kirt will handle it extremely well, but I am also sure they will be thinking: "What are they teaching those kids?" And yet, even if this happens, I guarantee it will not be as awkward as last Thanksgiving, where our guest list included; my parents, Shannon's mom and brother, Shannon's mom's boyfriend, Shannon's mom's boyfriend's son and Shannon's mom's boyfriend's son's on and off again girlfriend (whom we had never met) who lives in another town and didn't have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with. If all that together doesn't spell awkward, I don't know what does.

Bottom line, we are looking forward to a fantastic Thanksgiving and pray that it will be the first of several to come with all of us together. We wish everyone who might be reading this a very Happy Thanksgiving.

In an unrelated topic, I wanted to respond to a couple of comments that were left on our blog by family or friends. So I will do so below:

1. To my cousin Mike and his comment on my embarrasing moments post: "I had totally forgotten about those Garfield books. Those were hilarious. I had thought my first real bout of uncontrollable laughter had occured on the outdoor basketball court at EAC when my friend Spencer Bigler did his impression of an epileptic basketball player. (Highly politically incorrect, but unbelievably funny. To my friends who have epilepsy or know someone who does, no offense is meant by this.) But Mike reminded me that no, my inability to control myself at times while laughing dates back much further. Thanks Mike.

2. To Chris Kartchner and his comment on my Mini Posts post: If there is anyone who could beat me at Trivial Pursuit it would either be you or my mother, but I will never admit to being owned especially if we haven't played the game. The one exception is I will admit to being owned at bowling by Timilee Brown. I don't care how slight in stature she is, I once watched her bowl four strikes in a row. I carry her bowling shoes. Let's move on.

3. To Anna Marks on her comment on my Mini Posts post: I am so glad to have found a fellow Toddler Fetch player. We should write a book advancing the positive growth patterns of toddlers who play fetch with their parents and make millions. We may have to admit we were wrong in 30 years, but I didn't see Dr. Spock giving any money back while making his admission. We'd be set.

4. To everyone commenting on my Mom and her current medical condition: Thank You from the bottom of our hearts. We don't know where the road will lead, but it is nice to know of those who are rooting for us during our journey. We greatly appreciate it.

5. Lastly, I have never solicited comments, but I found the comments on what people have on their iPods, and what they listen to because of their parents, fascinating. So I guess I am now soliciting comments. I would love to know what things have been passed on to you from your parents or you are passing on to your kids whether it be music, movies or whatever. I am just really curious. And thanks to those who started this fascination with your comments on the matter.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

The Way We Were

As previously documented in the last post, our week did not start well in the illness department. Well, to quote Sean Connery from Indiana Jones, "Our situation has not improved." Following Braden, Logan got sick on Monday night and though we thought it was a one night thing, he proved us wrong by providing a new upholstering job to the inside of our van yesterday afternoon. This was followed by Shannon going down last night. All of these things combined with the "regular" life of having four kids caused me to reflect on how we got this point. I then realized, I have never recorded anywhere how Shannon and I met, started dating and ended up married. That might be important. So, if that story doesn't interest you, Danae and Lamar have some beautiful pictures of Maine and New Hampshire up on their blog that might be of interest. Otherwise, OUR STORY BEGINS...

The first time I remember becoming aware of Shannon was when I started playing tennis every Monday night after FHE following my mission. I played doubles with Brian Taylor, Adam Layton, Boyd Bryce/Heath Brown every week. Around that time, Brian Taylor was dating Shannon. I would love to report that our first meeting was love at first sight, but instead my opinion was that anyone who would date Brian Taylor probably wasn't for me. Great tennis player...I hope he doesn't know about this blog. Anyone who knows Brian Taylor...great guy just very different from me. (There is no good way out of this so we are just going to leave it hanging out in the air like that and go on.) Shannon, meanwhile, was not all that impressed with someone who would paint their face, put a Horrible Gila Hankie on their head and yell into a megaphone all through basketball games. There just wasn't a lot to get her excited about a guy who would lead the student section in yelling the Fat Albert, "HEY HEY HEYYY!!!" every time one guy touched the ball. (That was a great game. He was one of their better players and we had him so frustrated he was totally ineffective by the end of the game. This was right up there with the Vidal Sassoon guy from MCC. Good times. Anyway, I digress.) So not a lot happened until Choir tour. On our way home, I went and sat by her because my seat mate, Spencer Bigler, had a female admirer who sat on both of us until I moved. (I don't mean to imply anything about weight here, it just got very uncomfortable being a third wheel while simultaneously having a human being in your lap.) We had a great time and my friend Janelle DeWitt suggested I ask her out. I did. When I asked her out, she told me she had had a dream about me. That's right folks...I am the man of her dreams. Of course the dream was that I was throwing rocks at her to get her attention so...I don't know what that means.

Our first date was a triple date with Mike Bradley and Becky Phillips and Preston Bigler and Nancy Everett. We had dinner that was symbolic of all of our missions. Ok, we were stretching it quite a bit because dinner was home made pizzas on English Muffins (England) with Canadian Bacon (Canada) and some kind of guava juice (Brazil). Let's just say, I don't think the girls had an amazing cultural experience that night. We had a great time and at the end of the date, I was so smooth and told her, "Now don't go getting all weird on me now." Aren't I a great communicator? What I was saying was that I didn't want her to ignore me the next day. She took it to mean that I was saying, don't be surprised when I ignore tomorrow. Right there we should have seen what our ability to communicate with each other was going to be like.

Two weeks later, we were at my apartment and I kissed her for the first time. Actually, I was moving in when she got tired of waiting and closed the distance with lightning speed. An interesting side note is that Shannon's sister and her husband bought that house about two years ago. I am glad for her sake that she married me. That could have been awfully weird for her. It's a little weird even though we are married.

The fact that she stuck with me after we had dated a couple of months is truly amazing in retrospect. We started dating during my holy month of March. This is known to others as the NCAA basketball tournament or March Madness. During these games, Shannon was only able to get about 50% of my attention...ok 40%...25?...all right more like 10. In fact there was one particularly low point in our relationship. The last night I would be in Thatcher before moving to Mesa for the summer, Shannon said, "I don't care what we do tonight, but I don't want to watch basketball." Through a chain of events we ended up watching basketball. Nice Ryan. Also, my choice in clothes was nearly an insurmountable barrier. For our first date, she got dressed up, and I wore...my dress baseball cap and plaid baggy shorts. Another low light occured during an institute class we went to together. I got up that morning and needed to do laundry desperately. So my ensemble that day was a long sleeve button up dress shirt and cut off sweats. Wow, it is truly still embarressing to admit that. Bottom line, when I moved to Mesa, I was barely hanging by a thread. I had been there a week and was coming back to Thatcher for the weekend. I didn't know it, but she was planning on breaking up with me unless some kind of sign was received. Well, I was living with my Uncle Jack and his son, my cousin Michael, saved me. I told him I needed to get a good outfit to wear down to Thatcher and surprise Shannon with some actual good taste. Michael is the coolest, snappiest (I know it is 2008, but I like that word) dresser I know. He went shopping with me and that outfit proved to be the sign she was looking for. Disaster averted.

A week later, Shannon moved to Mesa as well and we enjoyed a summer working in the city and spending most evenings together. I feel bad about the kind of house guest I was to my uncle and aunt. At the time I was oblivious, but I didn't volunteer to help out at all that I can remember. I basically slept there and ate there very occasionally. In fact, one night my grandmother, who also lived there, was at the dinner table when I was actually eating with the family. She asked if I was going over to visit "that girl". (My grandmother is terrible with names. I was usually Renny half the time.) I said that I was and she asked, "You like her don't you?" I again said yes and she said, "I could tell. You seem pretty hot for her." My uncle said, "MOTHER?!?!?" "Well he does." I think I then, red faced, brought up the subject of rising gas prices. I mean where do you go with that with your grandmother?

Following that summer and all the arguments, great dates and serious discussions that occured, we came back to EAC for one more semester with the intention of getting married over the Christmas break. The thing is, we didn't tell anybody else this. Shannon's dad was apparently telling her mother that if we weren't going to get engaged, we needed to break it off. People at EAC were shocked there still was no ring to be found. It was an interesting time. Finally, on October 10, we got engaged. Then we really started fighting. I don't know how engaged people ever manage to get married. Shannon said she wanted her colors to be pink and forest green. I, like a typical moron said, "Pink?" That led to a month long stretch where our colors were going to be Red, White and Black. I still think that would have been classy, but finally we had the discussion where she told me she hated those colors and I admitted that I really couldn't care less as long as there was that ice cream/seven up drink at the reception. Somehow, we didn't kill each other and we made it to January 4, 1996. People often reflect on what they did the night before their wedding. Some have deep introspection, others party with friends. I ironed clothes while watching the original Planet of the Apes movies with my cousin Michael. There was a marathon on TBS.

The day of the wedding was awesome. We had a wonderful ceremony and then we went to the luncheon. Unfortunately, I had promised her brother David that I would get him a corn dog because he probably wouldn't like anything at the luncheon. We went to three different AM/PMs and they were all out. Unbelievable. Anyway, we were late to our own luncheon and everybody ate without us. One of only two blemishes on the day. Since we had scheduled our reception on Saturday and got married on a Thursday, we then went goofy golfing and then to the movie Sabrina. The second blemish occured when we went to check into our hotel. We didn't know, but they required a $250 deposit if you didn't have a credit card. I did not. We had to drive around Tempe desparately looking for an ATM. Luckily we found one.

I can't believe that was almost 13 years ago. Life has definitely changed a lot in that time. I am grateful that wonderful woman looked past the idiot exterior I had and unfortunately too often still have and decided to marry me. Today, she is feeling like crap and still having to take care of two kids at home including a baby. I am going to owe her big when I get home. I sure am glad I didn't push that color thing for the reception. After a day like today, that almost definitely would have come up at some point.

The Harsh Realities of Growing Older

Try thinking back on the day when you learned that life doesn't care whether it is your birthday or not. As adults, we try to make our spouse's birthday a special time or else we have friends where we make an effort to give them a boost on that day, or around it anyway. For instance, my friend Heath and I have decided to treat each other to a round of golf. It really is a win win as it means we are guaranteed two full rounds of 18 holes each summer. But the reality of life is, that life doesn't care when your birthday is and as adults we all know it. But it is a hard lesson to learn. I think I learned it on my mission when for my 20th birthday we did...nothing. It is one of those situations of, "Hey, happy birthday Elder, can I give you a ride to your next area where you will be tracting in the rain for 6 hours?" I remember the subtle waves of depression that hit me as I thought to myself, I just turned 20 and nobody cares. Of course companions are such a help during these times. Mine was like, a birthday? I had one of those a couple months back.

With those memories in mind, you try to do all that you can to keep The Birthday as special an event as possible for your kids. But sometimes, life has other plans. Case in point, this weekend for my 3 almost 4 year old son Logan. He will celebrate his birthday on Tuesday so this was his "birthday weekend". We made plans to celebrate his birthday tonight with both of our families, dinner, a cake and a few gifts (See above pictures). So how did the weekend start out for young Logan? A flu shot on Friday afternoon. The following description comes from Shannon. When she arrived at the county health department, the waiting area was empty. They went back to get their shots and Abby plops down, gets it done and...boom, it's over. Next, Logan is screaming hysterically and clinging deparately to Shannon. So she has to hold him in place for the shot. He proceeds to scream and continues screaming long after they have left and gone to their next stop on the afternoon errand trail. Next, Braden has to be pried off of the waiting chair he has been sitting in. I wish this was an exageration, but prying is the most acurate verb for this situation. So, Shannon had to hold him down as he gets the shot as well. So now Shannon has two screaming boys along with a screaming baby who is freaked out by all the screaming going on around. On their way out, Shannon realizes that the waiting area is now full and realizes Logan is screaming, "That hurt sooo bad! That hurt! AAAHHHHH!!!!!" Braden is screaming, "Why mom, why would you let them do it to me? Why? AAAAHHHH!!!!!!" What a great start to the weekend for the birthday boy.

Up next, going to bed Saturday night. I don't know how the waking of parents works in anyone else's house, but in ours, I have been designated as the one to be awakened. I knew it was bad when I got the tap on my arm and looked up to see 2:30 a.m. and then saw that not one, but both of my boys are standing by my bed. Braden then informs me that he has thrown up. He did it so sweetly and coherently, I thought he was joking. When Abby throws up, she lets out blood curdling screams from the bathroom until someone comes to her. Here was Braden almost sounding like, "Um, father, I hate to intrude upon your peaceful slumber, but I have found myself to be sick." (I love the British way of saying sick to describe throw up. I was sick means, I threw up. It just sounds so much less...wet.) Anyway, I go in to find that he threw up in bed. I don't think I mentioned that Braden is on the top bunk. Which brings me to why Logan was accompanying him on his midnight hurling tour. We have those bunk beds where the bottom bunk is a little larger than the top. Logan described it this way: "I was just asleep, and then I felt a little wet." Fortunately for him, it wasn't a direct hit. Two hours later, we had gotten everyone back to bed. (Kate currently sleeps in the laundry room (don't ask) which obviously was a high traffic area so she got to join the puke party we were having as well. Needless to say, Sunday morning was not a welcome sight.

Next up for the birthday boy, someone thought it would be good for him to give his first talk in primary two days before his birthday. Long story short, Shannon gave his talk while he stood there holding a picture. Got a bit of the stage fright.

Finally tonight, he got to do a little bit of celebrating. He got to wear the coveted birthday hat and eat his chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate ice cream. (He doesn't take after his mother at all.) He got a new view finder and new Playdo. Life was good. I am sure when he looks back, he won't make the connection of a rough weekend with his birthday, but at 3:00 a.m. on Saturday morning as we were cleaning him and his room up, I couldn't help thinking, "Get used to this son, someday, you will realize birthdays aren't all they are cracked up to be."

Indiana Jones and The Ipod of Doom

Isn't it funny what parents pass on to their children when it comes to pop culture. Don't get me wrong, children find most of their pop culture interests on their own, but certain things creep through. You know its true. Someone out there is going to totally relate to what I am about to say and is going to feel a sense of relief that they are not alone. Ok, maybe that's a bit melodramatic, but I own a Simon and Garfunkel Greatest Hits CD. Not only that, but Shannon and I will listen to it over many other CDs that we own. If not that one, The Mamas and the Papas get a lot of playing time, or possibly Mr. Neil Diamond. (On a side note, Shannon and I often comment that he is fantastic but should completely avoid singing covers of other people's stuff. In our opinion, the moving moment from Les Mis when Fantine is preparing to die just loses some of its emotional zing when it comes via the nasal inflections that only Neil Diamond can produce. "I Dreeeamd a Dreeeam of Days Gone BYYYyyye" Not good. Also, his rendition of Candlelight Carol causes the same reaction in me as my nine year old deciding that her high pitched fake laugh is so entertaining it needs to be repeated over and over loudly in a very echo inducing kitchen. PLEEEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!!) Some of my greatest musical memories include listening to my Dad's Chuck Berry tape or my parents Everly Brothers LP. (I have totally dated myself by the reference to an LP. My only defense is that I was very young at the time.) And we are all that way. Shannon has a real affinity for The Carpenters thanks to her mother. I personally find that Unisom is slightly more effective than The Carpenters, but not by much. She also enjoys early 70s era country music thanks to her Dad. Sometimes this phenomenon has very detrimental effects. I was at my good friend Heath's house the other day and we were listening to his Ipod when Janis Joplin came on. I thought to myself, "Wow. All the good and positive ideals and lessons Heath's parents taught him and somehow, they overlooked the damage they were doing by listening to this? Tragedy." I could be wrong, but I think Timilee, his wife, agrees with me. But long story short, I find it fascinating to hear or see other people's pop culture interests and especially those that were clearly influenced by their parents.

That brings me to the realization that I am doing the same to my kids. I think one of the first times this hit me hard was when my then four year old son was walking around singing, "Hello, you fool, I love you." In 1990, I think that was my favorite song. Braden and Abby love it so much, I now hate that song. Tell me parents if this isn't something you have had to do. You hear the opening note or sound of a song on your Ipod that your children have listened to no less than 187 times in the last week and you lunge to skip to the next song before they recognize it is coming on. It never works. Children recognize what they are hearing long before any parent ever will. My children's current list of favorites to skip ahead to on the Ipod: Hold Me Now - Thompson Twins, Wild Thing - The version from the movie Major League, not the Jimi Hendrix version, I Need To Know - Marc Anthony and Abby's current favorite, Mr. Policeman - Brad Paisley. (I can't tell you how happy I am that at least one of my children is buying into my Brad Paisley obsession. I thought for a while I might be a lone man in the wilderness.) Also some music is timeless and passes through multiple generations. My dad, myself and my son Braden all love Sloopy, Sugar Sugar and Devil With A Blue Dress.

Lastly, I am also going through a back door of indoctrinating my sons on the coolness of Indiana Jones (Movies 1-3. Movie 4 does not count. At times, I pretend it does not exist.) I have not let my 6 nor 3 year old actually watch these movies, but I have rented the Wii version of Lego Indiana Jones and they LOVE IT! By letting them beat up Lego people that shatter into several individual Lego pieces, I am hoping to build a bond that will last a lifetime of watching these classic movies together. For those who don't believe mindless violence can build said bond, I submit that my Dad and I still can sit for over an hour watching old Looney Tunes cartoons and still be laughing our heads off when Yosemite Sam falls off that diving board for the 5th or 6th time. (We have purchased DVDs of the Looney Tunes and I am indoctrinating my kids with those too. I figure after being subjected to them as a child and then never having dropped an anvil on someone's head myself, they are probably ok. This is now a family treat to watch these together.)

I don't ever want to wish away time. My kids are growing up way to fast as it is. But I have to admit that I wish I could get a time machine and go forward in time and see what my kids are listening to on their invisible, weightless musical helmet that is voice activated to play whatever song you request. It would be interesting to see what, if any, of mine and Shannon's musical influence made it through. I pray it's not The Carpenters.

The Legend of the Rogue Toilet Seat Lid

What is it with kids, freshly cleaned things and the middle of the night. A few months ago, Abby was not feeling all that well when she went to bed. Bless her heart, the bug struck in the wee hours of the morning and she jumped and ran to the bathroom. Alas, for all of her efforts, she was thwarted a few mere inches from her desired goal. As she made her way to the toilet to let loose with all things sweet and unhealthy she had gone crazy with earlier, she got there only to find the toilet seat lid closed. In her defense, she wanted to open it. She actually started to try and open it. But her stomach had other things in mind. I stop here to have everyone engage in a mental image exercise. Do you know what happens when you put a spoon underneath running water in the sink? How it turns a harmless stream of running water into a chaotic spray that douses everything in a 15 inch radius including your 9 year old's homework (why it was by the kitchen sink, who knows), your tie that you just put on to go to work and your freshly mopped floor. I am here to testify that a closed toilet seat lid has the same effect on a larger scale when it comes to flowing bodily liquids. Abby launched and then cried out. The crying out had the positive effect of awaking me from a deep sleep, but alas, it had the negative effect of taking all of her remaining energy which meant there was none available to open the lid for shot number two. I arrived at the bathroom door fully prepared to be the loving supportive father who would provide comfort to my sweet, yet sick daughter. I was not prepared for what I found. There was not a spot of that bathroom that she didn't get. The shower curtain, the towels, the floor, the walls (3), the back of the toilet (other than a ricochet theory that doesn't hold much water, I am still at a loss of how) and most of her. As only someone who is a parent can understand, I somehow held it together long enough to get her cleaned up and back to bed. Then I had to clean it up. An hour later I was ready to unscrew the toilet seat, remove it and have just an open vessel. I was also ready to put myself through a high powered car wash.

I was pretty sure we had learned our lesson. For many weeks, we made sure each night that the toilet seat lid was raised before we went to bed. But as in all things, you get complacent. Don't worry, I don't intend to make a gospel lesson out of a toilet seat lid, but if you find one here, that is your business. Yesterday, we cleaned our house for roughly the entire day. We did everything. Shannon bleached both bathrooms and I actually got down with a pumice stone and did....pumice stone things. The house was beautiful. Well, we all now how beautifully clean things are meant to look. You close everything and leave it as if you were trying to sell your home and people would be coming to see it. There it was, the fatal flaw. This morning, Abby comes into our room as I am trying to wake up and says, "Dad, Logan's in the bathroom crying."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Aren't 9 year olds helpful? I think you could ask them if they are wearing socks and they would say, "I don't know." They know Nick Jonas' named his wart Bobby when he was 5, (Thanks Disney Channel), but what is causing their three year old brother great anguish 10 feet away is a little too much for them.

Anyway, I go in to find that Logan has had an accident. I remind you that we had cleaned the bathroom about 18 hours earlier. Shannon even forbade us to use them for a month. I was still trying to work out the logistics for an outhouse by the trampoline. There stood my 3 year old son. His pants off just crying. And there was that dad gum blasted toilet seat lid closed and covered in urine. He had managed to get his pants off (they were completely dry), but hadn't had time to get the toilet seat lid raised. As only a parent will understand, I told him it was ok and tried to calm him as that little lower lip quivered and he kept repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." There was no way to get mad at him. I got him taken care of and then again, I cleaned up a mess that was everywhere, (repeat image exercise from above). I intend to buy a sledge hammer tomorrow and teach that seat lid a lesson. I am sure it will understand it is nothing personal.

Back Where We Started

As the election has come to an end, I promise this will be the last post with political thoughts in it for quite a while. In fact it won't be all politcal, but several things came to me last night regarding where I and my family are, and it sure seems like we have been here before.

First of all, as previously documented, I was livid when the primary season ended and the Republican nominee was John McCain. For a number of reasons that are best left in the past, I had vowed never to vote for him in an election again and now here he was as the Republican option on the ticket. At the time, I remember thinking, I may just vote for Clinton or Obama just so that I don't have to vote for this joker again in four years. In so many ways, McCain never supported things that I believe in and in my opinion was not a good candidate. I also looked at the economic climate (which has clearly gotten even worse) and realized that the next president was going to have a lot of problems that very likely would not work themselves out in four years. In my warped thinking at the time, I thought that it was probably just as good that a democrat get the blame for it as anyone and then we might have a better shot with a more friendly looking congress in 2012.

Fast forward to yesterday and I had come around and voted for McCain. I didn't do so with any great excitement and I knew when I voted that he wasn't going to win. But I had gotten myself in the mind set of a President Obama being something we might not be able to recover from for several years, specifically with Supreme Court appointments. As the night unfolded on Tuesday and Obama was giving his speech. I realized, I was ok. I wasn't devastated like I was when Clinton won. Obama will pursue things that I profoundly disagree with, but recent history has shown us that if things do improve drastically and he tries to push to much of a left leaning agenda, two years from now will be a brutal night for him. Bottom line, I was back where I was in March. I am kind of glad I don't have to worry about voting for McCain in 2012. I still don't like him. I still can't wait to vote against him in his next Senate election. My guy, Romney now can run again in four years instead of eight which is expected if your party has an incumbent president. Or maybe Bobby Jindal from Louisiana will emerge, which would be absolutely fine with me. It was funny because I had come full circle.

Unfortunately, other things also come full circle. November 4 was also a big day for our family because my mom was scheduled to learn the results of her most recent PT Scan. She had started chemotherapy and we all felt good about the likelihood that it would have very positive effects. While she learned that the tumors she had previously had had not grown, we unfortunately learned that new growths were found in her lungs. The diagnosis was again not good. We have been on such a roller coaster between hope and despair that maybe we had grabbed onto the chemotherapy solution a little too much. Please do not misunderstand, we have not given up. But when I talked to my mom last night, I found myself with the dark cloud returning and with similar feelings I had had several months ago.

Personally, I will be glad when 2008 is over. We have been greatly blessed. We have our new daughter Kate and she is such a joy and a blessing. But overall, 2008 has been a tough year. There is no guarantee that 2009 will be any better, but at least it will be different.

So here I am. Feeling the same feelings I had months ago. They say first impressions are often correct. Maybe in these cases they are right. All I know is: Things are the way they are and we go from here. So my final thoughts of this election year of 2008 are, Go Romney/Jindal in 2012 and Go Mom in 2009! We are praying for you.