Saying Goodbye to the Military



This past week we spent the week cleaning and starting to declutter some rooms of the house. At the end of my bed I have a hope chest my dad made for his mother. In that, I packed all my military uniforms, hats, coats and odds and ends. And then, I hauled them around with us for 6 years like that, unused, never worn, just taking up space. I saved out my caps and just before hauling them down to the Army-Navy store, I took pictures of the kids wearing the caps. Along with those pictures, a flood of memories came back to me as I said goodbye to my clothes and a feeling that the door to that part of my life was closing forever.

Just like high school, or mission, or wedding, or childbirth, most people don't forget their days in basic training. Some of my uniforms still had the markings on them you use to identify them as your belongs. First letter of your last name and last four numbers of your social security number. The day we got our uniforms we were instructed in how to identify our uniforms and particularly reminded to remember that those numbers go on the UNDER side of your cap visor. Well, guess what? I wrote them on the TOP of mine. Then we had to stand at attention at the end of our beds and our Drill Instructor (D.I.) walked down the aisle and inspected our work. Then he got to me. Now, Sgt. Berrigan was a Scottish immigrant and had a thick Scottish accent. He chewed gum a lot. He was a big dude, and very much intimidating. He sees my hat and loses it. He snatched the cap, threw it on the ground and was screaming the whole while. I was trembling and on the verge of tears from embarrassment and just...no one had ever screamed at me like that. At the end of his rant he screams "Now look what you made me do! You made me spit out my gum!!!!". From then on, he called me Visor. Or Dookeystomper.




Marching. I can't do it. Walking in step, marching to time, parades, I just couldn't get the hang of staying in step. One day he started yelling at me to get in step. I tried and tried and finally he sent me to the back of the flight after yelling DOOKEY STOMPER at me. The day that we were being judged on our abilities to march (it was like winning a competition between flights), I was put on dorm duty so that I didn't embarrass him with my marching (a.k.a. dookey stomping).



When our uniforms were issued we were also issued BCG's (Birth Control Glasses). These things were hideously ugly. I had heard that if you got bifocals in them, it took longer to get them. So, I thought I was being sneaky and order the ones with bifocals having had them off and on through high school. Three days later, I snapped my normal glasses in half attaching a nerd strap to them because they kept sliding down my nose and Sgt. Berrigan caught me pushing them up while marching at attention. Again, I was sent to the back of the flight and told how much I embarrassed him. I was used to getting yelled at by this point, so I just went. Later that afternoon I had to approach him and tell him I busted my glasses. The result: I was given BCG's long before anyone else in the flight got them, but even worse, they weren't even my prescription! To see out them, I had to turn my head so I could see out of the outer edge of the glasses. If I didn't embarrass Sgt. Berrigan before that point, I sure as heck was doing it now. One day my glasses arrived and they had been placed in my locker. I was so excited at just being able to see, I put them on and was jumping up and down with excitement, and then in the middle of my glee-fest was called into to report to Sgt. Berrigan and then had to report several times to get my greeting correct to thank him for my new glasses.

I had no idea you could be so tired you could fall asleep while marching.

It is extremely uncomfortable to stand in formation while listening to the girl behind you hyperventilating so she didn't throw up, and then keep your stance while she barfed all over beside you.

My hair that has never worked for me in the past, failed me again in Basic Training by growing 1/4 inch too long below my eyebrow. In line to get lunch I was berated about my hair being to long.

Another day in the lunch line I was accused of bribing Sgt. Berrigan by leaving a nickle in the folds of uniform pocket that he found while doing a dorm inspection. Dorm inspections included him searching your dirty laundry hanging in a laundry bag at the top of your bed. Later on, I made the mistake of correcting him that it was only 5 cents I tried to use to bribe him while he got after another girl for bribing him with 10 cents.



On the first day of basic training we were instructed on how to set up our lockers. Ever one of our uniform buttons were to be buttoned, our hangers to be 2 fingers apart, our iron cord to be wrapped without twists, our personal items to be placed on display in the bottom of a drawer in our locker and our shoes to be polished, shined and laces at even lengths and then evenly aligned at the bottom left side of our beds. I was woke one night during a midnight inspection because my boots were too shiny. I also failed most of the locker inspections because while we were being instructed in all this, I was day dreaming and looking around. I recently asked a friend if there was anything he kept doing left over from the military. He said it was how we folded underwear and socks: six inch squares.

My career field training took place in Denver, Colorado, that base now shut down. My first duty station was in Merced, California, also shut down now. My last duty station was in Tacoma, Washington. Later in the Air Force Reserves, I was assigned to bases in Utah, Ft. Worth, Texas, and then did annual tours and trips to Italy, Hawaii (twice), Alaska, New York, Georgia (4 times, each time in a different season), and San Antonio.



The day 9-11-01 happened I was at an NCO school in San Antonio. They announced we were under attack, and I remember panicking, thinking, no one in the building we were in was armed or prepared for this. We were all wearing dress blues. Later when we were sure the building was secure we were in we were allowed down to the break room to watch the news and we arrived just in time to see one of the towers fall. It was scary. Even scarier was to be separated from my husband and little boys. When it was announced the airlines were shut down I started feeling so trapped. There was no way for me to get home without a great deal of expense. My parents lived 2 hours away and we were able to get together that weekend. They returned to San Antonio with me, and was able to stay in the room right next door to me, where we shared a bathroom. It was the most comforting thing ever, and a little weird to realize that at 27 years old, you still felt better and safer in the presence of your mom and dad. The flight home, a week later, was the eeriest travel I have ever experienced. No one talked. Everyone was tense. Every little bump and strange sound caused visible jumping of the passengers and clenching of the arm rests. While I was certainly agitated, I noticed a muslim woman in the airport who was even more uncomfortable as everyone eyed her in suspicion and judgement. I remember feeling that things would never be the same.

Three years after that I went inactive upon Simeon's birth and it became near impossible for me to attend my drills with four small children and my husband on a civilian contract in the middle east.



Really, not a day goes by that I don't think of the military life. It gets so ingrained in you. There is a sense of pride that comes to you, but also a lifestyle that is comforting and conflicting at the same time. Patriotism, honor, courage. Things that make you grow and mature. It teaches you to things that you pass onto your kids. It is with some envy that I pass by military members in public. I feel that twinge of "I once wore that uniform, too". I also feel pride and thankfulness for them for carrying on where I left off, not that I did some great job in the military...I cooked and passed out lodging rooms or basketballs to them... but it was all for a greater purpose: the protection of our country. So I say my final farewell. More than likely I will never wear the military uniform again, but I do have some great memories.
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Back to School Preparation

I say back to school, but we've really been doing school all summer. Off and on. Ok, I'll just admit it, more like 2-3 days a week. As fall approaches and the public school kids get ready, I can't help but feel excited for us as well. Finally, the cooler days of fall will arrive, which for me signals it's time to get work and learn.

I wrote a review a few months ago about the Konos curriculum on here. The other one that I'm using is Epic Beings Courageous Adventures. It is also a unit study based curriculum, but we spend almost the whole school year studying one subject. I enjoy them both and have found I can combine them together and we have had some awesome units over the summer using these resources.

We are going on our 6th year of homeschooling!! I cannot believe we've managed to homeschool for this long. Of all the temptations any person experiences, the hardest for me is that temptation to put my kids in school. I say this because I get all excited in Walmart in the back to school aisles of glue, crayons and notebooks. I get all excited at the thought of getting back to work, on a schedule, planning field trips, and I love some sharpened pencils! I want my kids to be just as excited as I was about school starting, but to them, we are homeschooling. Does it really get THAT exciting to revisit the kitchen table year after year?

These are some of the changes I have adopted over the years to keep it fresh, exciting and motivating to continue.

* They each get a three ring binder and notebook for the new year. I add dividers for specific subjects: vocabulary, quotes, science, writing, journals/notebooking.

* Individual boxes of crayons, pencils, markers, glue, and scissors. Of course, by the end of the year, these are either gone, or dumped into one big bin, but it adds a some excitement that these are THEIR supplies.

* Clipboards. I have shied away from these in the past, thinking they may have added more bulk or just that 'one more thing' we have to haul around. These have actually been really nice for us on field trips. Some websites list scavenger hunts for their exhibits. The clipboards keep the papers and pencils in one place and we have less chance of loosing the information.

* Costumes. I took this idea from Epic Beings Courageous Adventures. Some of my kids really like to dress up, some not so much. But it helps in their imagination play and gets us more interesting in discussions.

* Workboxes. I got a set of three plastic drawers (in the storage bin aisles) and I labeled each drawer with their name. They keep their workbooks (math, language arts, notebook) in there so we know exactly where things are. I also got some manilla folders and labeled each with things like Reading, Copywork, Social Studies, Art, Science, etc, and if I found something I wanted them to read, put together, play with, or use, or if I knew we were going to have a busy day and wanted them to get something done for school that day, but quickly, I add things into those folders.

* I get a teacher's planner. While some curriculums will come with a planner for you, I used mine to write down each days assignments, appointments, and short notes on the kids (like if we had a bad day, good day, difficulties, or cute things they did). This ends up more like a journal for me, but it helps for me to see everything for the week laid out and then I just check off the things we did accomplish and then rearrange some things we didn't get accomplished.

* Because we have two preschoolers sometimes homeschooling doesn't go as planned. We have learned to be flexible, with the kids doing more individual work in the morning and our group activities in the afternoon. I also moved the toys upstairs and made room for them in our school room. I hope this will keep them where we can see them plus occupy them for short periods of time during our discussions. I also sorted and stored some toys so that it's not overwhelming for them to choose what to play with and so they can't dump everything and make a huge mess. Who wants to clean up an entire room after a hard day of schooling?

So, those are somethings I thought I would post about today as we get ready to return to school. I will try to get pictures up of our rooms to enhance this post. Visual aids are always a good thing, right?
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Meanest Mom and Run-Aways


My three-year old Bella and five-year old Meri decided that I don't win the Mother of the Year Award.  In fact, I earn the "Meanest" Mother of the Year Award.  Why?  Well, I make them take naps.  Really, I'm not even that mean--I make them take "rests". 

They decided that they would run away from all of the naptimes and leave home to visit Grandma in Oregon.  So, instead of sleeping, they packed their backpacks for the journey.  When I found out, I had Chrisy {12} write a love note for them to "carry on their journey" and we all signed it hoping it would discourage them.   We were very solemn when giving them the note. (Except a few of the kids who thought this was hilarious.) We packed their bags with carrots and bananas telling them all the while how sad we'll be.  As Meri put the food in her bag she pulled out the GPS that she had packed!  Where was that in the days I wanted to run away? Clever.  Very clever.

Anyway, I told them that we'd miss them and were very sad.  I asked what they would do when they were alone in the night with the fox and owls?  Bella said, "Oh, we'll sleep in the shed!" 

Despite my urging, they gave me big hugs and kisses good-bye and with their older brother {11} following them closely they left the front door.  They got to the next door neighbor's jeep and Bella said, "Well, I'm done running away.  Let's go home!"   Thank goodness!

For Family Home Evening next week we'll be having a family safety class, including the dangers of really running away.  Kids always keep you on your toes!
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August's Favorite Things

In the spirit of thankfulness each month I plan to presenting “My Favorite Things” in a picture collage.

Here is the month of August’s list of favorite things. Each photo is followed by a brief explanation following the collage.

Would you like to join us each month? Leave a comment below with your gratitude posts so we can all visit your site and enjoy.



From top to bottom, left to right:

1. Pink mirror project
2. My five and three year old {Meri and Bella} helping with the weeding.
3. My 14 year old daughter pulling out a mamba-jamba weed! Wowsa!
4. A pink framed chalkboard I made with pink flower.
5. Our family with grandma and grandpa.
6. My Meri with her new brother Braedon
7. Bella being Bella.
8. Blue Duster {see the Homemaking-Cottage site for directions}
9. Madi with a wheelbarrow of weeds.
10. Benjamin as a Bee Gee
11. Benjamin with his new brother Braedon
12. Jewelry holder
13. Candleholder that I painted white and am using for my craft markets as a stand.
14. Our lazy cat Bach. He fell asleep with his head ON the pillow.
15. Family Night in a can.
16. Pink kid's towel apron
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1 Hour of Sanity



Ammon has discovered Play Dough. I cannot believe how long they play with this stuff. I can't touch it or stand the smell of it, but my kids love it and it occupies them long enough I can get some stuff done around the house while they sit still playing.

For autistic kids, this is a God-send. They get sensory stimulation and I've noticed that after my kids play with it they are helpful, content and easy going. YAY!
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I Love Summer Because....

Remember summer back when you were a kid and how wonderful it was? Blissful, lazy days. Warm evenings watching and catching lightening bugs. The smells of barbeque's. Swimming. Even with the mosquito bites and sunburns, summer was my favorite season. It still is, but lately I've been re-evaluating my love affair with the season. I'm thinking it is not as in love with me, as I am with it.

1. Broken or bruised bones. Three summers in a row have given us falls out of trees which resulted in concussions, skateboarding accidents that resulted in scrapes and bruises and most recently a fear that a femur was broken (it wasn't, thank goodness!), and trampoline injuries of various forms (and not just on the kids).

2. Nothing says "I have it together" by taking your kid to the doctor in nothing but his underwear. Or barefoot. Or wearing flannel jammies when it's 103 outside.

3. Artwork! It's great to see it in chalk on your driveway and sidewalk. It's great to see it on beautiful coloring book pages. Not so great to see it on your wall, side of your van, all over the two year old, or on your bills.

4. Speaking of artwork, how about science experiments gone bad. Like, the marker in the microwave? Or catfood in the bathtub water? Or bubbles in the dog water? Or creating mud pies with the hose and a bucket?

Ammon felt it was necessary to cook a marker in the microwave. It exploded.

5. Day Trips. I wake up thinking it will be a great day for a day trip! Let's go to the zoo, the museum, the park, the waterfalls, etc. Usually these places are enjoyable and fun for all of us. But don't we all get that one kid that HATES to wear shoes, or sit in the stroller, or dumps all your bottled water for the day in a nice trail behind you as you pull him along in the wagon? Day trips that end in muddy clothes, missing shoes, almost heat stroke from lack of water, soggy sandwiches, and speeding trips back home because you have a naked two year old WITHOUT a diaper on because you forgot them or used them all up.

6. Potty Training. This is the third summer I have potty trained one our kids during. My tactic is to let them decide when they want to potty train because I don't have the energy or time to fight with them. Joshua has finally potty trained this summer, and it's gone pretty well. But we still have occassional accidents and these usually happen at the same time as 'not having a diaper' or 'we're 15 miles from a bathroom!' or 'we just passed the bathroom and "I have to go potty" is uttered from the backseat'.

7. Amnesia. I think winter wipes the slate clean in your brain. You're so cold, so bored and tired of living in the dark that when summer arrives you are bursting at the seams to get out the door and enjoy summer and all the things you associate with summer, except for a couple of minute details, like the "adventures" from last summer. Which is good. I'm not complaining about the amnesia. It's what motivates me to get all excited and do it again the next year. Will our kids remember that we were ~this close~ to admitting ourselves to the insane asylum, or will they remember that trip to the zoo that was so fun because they got to see the baby elephant and penguins? I don't know if I drove my mom nuts during the summer, but I don't remember any bad summers as a child, even though it may not have been completely enjoyable for her, bogged down with the grown up things of the world that don't take a break just because its summer. And maybe this is why we have kids that remind us that summers are for breaks, that we just have to go with the flow for a bit, and so what if your marker is blown up in the microwave. We have 5 others.

I watched Joshua lay on the basketball court the other day by himself and watched clouds passing overhead. I thought about how this is what he will remember: watching dinosaurs and birds form in the clouds, watching the ants scurry by, getting licked in the face by the dog as he lay there and she came to inspect everything was alright on him, and the warmth of the cement warming him in the cooler breeze of the evening.
Aren't summers great?
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We Had the Baby - Baby #8!

Shiloah and Braedon

So, we were told that the baby was a girl and while the boys were disappointed we prepared for a little "sister". We bought all pink and purple, frills and bows. It was one of my best pregnancies ever. I was running until my 7th month. After 9 weeks of bed-rest and contracting I got back on the elliptical for the last 3 1/2 weeks of the pregnancy. (Baby was overdue by 5 days).

Braedon Carter Baker was born after 1.5 hours of labor 7 lbs. 10 oz. and 20 inches long at 2 a.m. end of June... Much to the relief of his shocked and exhausted mom, dad, his 7 excited siblings, Daddy's chain of command and the gym staff and everyone else that knows us...IT'S A BOY!!! {Not a girl as we were told!}

Braedon Carter

Ben was tickled "blue" and so was Benjamin. Everyone else was excited too, except little Bella who insisted a girl would be better. :) I think she's used to her brother now.

Ben, Shi, Braedon
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First Month of Gluten Free Life

We are near the end our first month as gluten free. It hasn't been that bad. I haven't felt deprived at all, but I think the kids have to some degree. Just because they go to friend's houses or church activities and there's all the stuff they can't eat.

I have seen major improvements in our health in just one month. The babies are talking and growing. Ammon seems as big as a three year old now, despite being almost 2 and a half. He is talking in sentences, asking questions, and getting some attitude. Joshua is saying words I had no idea he knew. He started potty training and that is still a progress in the works, but he's now able to notice when he has to go. Hannah's moods have improved and she is willing to help out with a lot of the chores. She just seems happier. Jesse just states that he is hungry all the time, but he has gained 7 pounds in the last month and I think he is also going through a growth spurt.

I left Isaac and Simeon to update last. I had thought with this diet, because I seemed to be feeling better and so have most of the kids, that it would magically make the Autism disappear. It wasn't until this week that Isaac woke up one morning and told me he feels good. I don't remember when the last time Isaac had told me that. Simeon was doing really good with a lot of things, like his speech and some eye contact. I had heard some stories about a gluten free/casein free diet, along with intense therapy, made the autism disappear. I just didn't know what to expect from the kids going gluten free.

Yesterday, in a moment of insanity, I decided to take the kids to the zoo. The last time we had gone was the day I got the call that I had Celiac disease. I remember having the stomach pain that was getting worse the longer we spent at the zoo. Yesterday was amazingly different, for me anyway. I had energy, I had no pain, I could pull the little boys in a wagon through the entire zoo and I didn't feel like I was going to pass out by the time we got done.

What was alarmingly the same was Isaac and Simeon. Isaac hadn't gotten his medication that morning in all the commotion getting ready for the trip. He was screechy, making weird noises, and had spastic arm movements. His coordination was off, so when I ask him to help push the wagon up a few hills he looked like he was pushing but instead he was just hanging onto the back while I dragged the wagon and him up the hill. With this awareness of him not being on his medications and that we had been on the diet for a month, while he was in great mood, there was the autism still.

Simeon's only goal when he goes to the zoo is to see the penguins. The penguins should be the only animals we see when we go to the zoo in his opinion. They are in the center of the zoo, so on the way there we stop to see the other animals, like elephants, rhinos, monkeys and small animals. At the elephants he had a complete meltdown. Nothing like seeing a 6 year old screaming at all the other zoo patrons that he needs to see the penguins. A couple times I knelt in front of him, tried to do some counter pressure things on him to calm him down but it wasn't working. He wouldn't look at me, he was fidgety and could only repeat "I want to see the peeeennngggguiiiinnsss!!!!!!!" Eventually we got to them after taking a few wrong turns which only agitated him more. When we got there you could hear Simeon over the crowd of people in there as he talked to the penguins. "Hi penguins! Do you like donuts? I have a flag! I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. You're going swimming? I love swimming. Penguins love fish!" This in itself draws attention because he's so enthusiastic and my children have been blessed with really loud voices they inherited from their father. We are required to stay at the penguin exhibit for no less than 15 minutes. Simeon would be there all day with the penguins if he could. While I relayed all this to Curtis that afternoon he asked if Simeon had taken any of the 4 stuffed penguins he has. He hadn't. In the past the penguins have come along for field trips he carries in his backpack. Lesson learned there.

And the other lesson I learned: The gluten free diet is not going to cure everything. It will make us better to some degree, but in the end, Isaac will still have Aspergers and Simeon will still have Autism. I'm not upset by this, just maybe I had my expectations set too high.

Over all though, we have been doing really good. I am so relieved to have a diagnosis. Cooking has been an adventure in finding things to replace what we used to love. I did convert our favorite chocolate chip recipe and so far have made some muffins, corn bread and pancakes that were wonderful from scratch!!

I will try to get some posts on here for recipes I have tried. I'm still trying to remember to take pictures of the bakery products we have tried, but we are to excited to eat them instead of taking time to take pictures.

Here are some of the things we have come up with for quick meals.

Rice cakes with peanut butter and jelly
Corn tortilla shells with refried beans and cheese
Muffins
Eggs
Baked Potatoes (I found the big ones at Costco, wrapped them in foil and put them in the oven on 300 for three hours while we were gone for an appointment. They were done and wonderful!)
Spaghetti with corn noodles
Pepperoni and cheese sticks (more of a snack)
Steelhead trout and salad

I'll keep posting things as I find them.
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Happy Father's Day!

I know it's a little late, and this post probably should have been done last week BEFORE Father's Day, but better late than never, right? In honor of Father's Day, I wanted to tell you a bit about my dad.

Life with my Dad was never dull. He had stories to tell, and it didn't matter if we had heard the same story forty times before, if we laughed, it was good to laugh again, only this time it would be harder. I only had one younger sister (15 months younger) so we didn't have a large family or younger brothers and sisters to look after that I sort of envy my own kids for having, but I can see how being raised by my father has taught me to be more patient and humoring of my own children.

Some of my earliest memories of my dad were dancing with him in the living room. I think it was to Kenny Rogers? We were just getting silly with him while we waited for company to arrive, and of course, being three and a half feet tall with a 6 foot tall dad didn't make it exactly easy to keep up with him, so we weren't doing any work at all as he held us and spun around and dipped us. Then we'd stumble over to the couch giggling till the dizziness subsided. Dad was in construction when we were little, so in the summers he was gone a lot for work. In the winter, when it was cold and work was slow, I have more memories of dad.

Dad's stories of his childhood were ones we kept wanting to hear. There was the sledding story. He and a couple of friends piled onto those old wooden sleds with the metal runners. In the commotion, the guy on the bottom got his tongue stuck to the metal but too late! They took off down the hillside, his friend wailing and yelling, but none of them could understand "UUUUUNNNNNGGGGGG" so they kept going, till they went airborne and the tongue was ripped off and they landed in giggling heaps, except for Bleeding Tongue. I'm thinking they must have been extra careful on future runs that no tongues were close to the metal after that.

My grandmother cooked on a wood stove most of the time dad was growing up. He also didn't have an indoor toilet until he was in high school. He attended a Nebraska country school until he 8th grade, which was essentially a one room schoolhouse. Some of the teachers left a bit to be desired, but my favorite story was of one teacher he had that insisted every kid ate everything in their lunch, and conducted inspections to ensure no crumbs were left behind. Dad pulled out his desert. A wonderful looking piece of pie! But one bite later, it wasn't so wonderful. Grandma must have bumped or scraped the stove as she pulled the pie out of the oven, and some of the wood ashes fell into the pie. Dad refused to eat the pie, but here came the teacher, insisting he eat it, to which he stubbornly held his ground that he would NOT eat it, and this continued until she finally had a taste. That was the only time he was not allowed to finish his lunch. Although, I often wonder how dad managed to choke down some of those sandwiches he's told me about having, like peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. Maybe he didn't.

Having enjoyed many sledding activities as a young boy, Dad was not going to let us miss out on sledding adventures of our own. When we moved to Germany there were a huge hill called Bismark Hill that I insisted we needed to go try out. We borrowed some sleds, took a Saturday morning after the first snow of the season and made our way up this huge hill. I think we hiked for a good hour and a half till we found the perfect spot. There were a few things that should have tipped us off that this MIGHT not have been a good day to go sledding. Grass was still poking up through the snow. The direction we wanted to go had deceptively been graced with leveled tiers into the side of the hill, and the wind must have been blowing from the north. It piled about a foot of snow at the base of each tier, and blew the rest of the snow off the hill. Dad thought it looked alright though, so we began. First my sister and I tried it out. We didn't get very far. So, dad tells us "Let me show you how it's done." He lays the sled out, took a runny leap onto it and was off with greater speed than my sister and I had ever seen. Until he got to the first tier. The sled went nose down in the foot deep snow. Its a wonder dad didn't break his neck because all we saw from the top of the hill was dad's legs straight up in the air. Then the sled let loose and slid right over dad's face. It was all fun and games till we saw the blood. The sled had skidded right over his glasses and left matching tracks right up his forehead. Well, the sledding adventures were over and we packed up the sled, dad and hiked back down to the car. He had to go in to the optometrist to get his glasses fixed and the guy fixing his glasses also had the same suspicious tracks on HIS forehead.

When I turned 17 my dad got orders (Army) to Korea for one year unaccompanied. When he came home on leave my mom wanted my sister and I to go on a separate date with dad. He took my sister first, but came home right after dinner because he had dumped his drink his lap. The next week was my turn. I was trying to spear a tomato and it flew off my plate and rolled down my front, leaving a trail of French dressing in it's wake. Dad asked if I wanted to go home to change. I refused. I was not giving up this Date with Dad after a meal. We went to play miniature golf. Looking back now, I wish I had gone home because I'm sure I looked the part of a great date with dressing smeared all over my shirt, but I had a great time regardless. I don't know about dad, but I did. Another year my mom was sick and stayed home after she had gotten us tickets at Christmas to see The Nutcracker. My sister was excited. She loved ballet, dance, musicals. Dad and I however were not that hot about it. Dad tried to back out, but mom insisted we had to see it. The ballerina was from Russia, and it was going to be good, she insisted. It also happened to be freezing that night, so bundled up and wearing dresses, dad begrudgingly got us in the car. We had near front row seats. We sit down, my sister was jittery and happy to be there, but she couldn't see over the cotton ball hair do's of the ladies in front of us, so Dad switched seats with her so she could see. The ballet started. About 15 minutes into it, we hear faint snoring. We assumed it was someone behind us. It got louder. Then we look over and notice it was Dad! I elbowed him a couple times. At one point he says he couldn't see because of the hair do's the ladies in front of us had. He got into more comfortable position and feel asleep again, sleeping through most of the ballet. My sister was ecstatic to see the ballet. I entertained my thoughts using something like self hypnosis trying to will myself somewhere more interesting, because I couldn't really see over the cotton balls of hair either. Once it was over and we left, dad commented on what a great nap he got. I was still laughing when we got home and mom was saying how much she wanted us to get some "culture". Of course, I used this same excuse on my own family years later. I think Isaac was all of 1 years old. I married my opposite. My husband loves musicals, ballet and operas. Like my dad, I tend to find "other entertainment" in those things, like how many cotton-ball hair do's I can find, or how outrageous the costumes can get.

I think one of the funnier and dearer things to watch is my dad as a grandfather. And dog lover. Both get equal "spoilage". Cookies for both. Trying to get them both to help him work something out. My kids think it's great that grandpa will give them a soda with snack. He'll play football with them, and the dog, at the same time. He send them email birthday cards for their birthdays, the funnier the better. It's probably easier to take older kids out on excursions, but he was willing to go out with my kids. (My sister's youngest is 10, while my youngest is 2).

I can see where I get some of my traits though. While my mom was gone with on a military contract one year, to fight boredom, my dad decided to make homemade soap with something like 17 ingredients. Then there was a soup craze. Dad is a great baker and so he would also make breads to go with his soups. I'm prone to these things too. Some of them are successful, some not, but I'm sure we learned something doing it all.

Those are some of the things I've enjoyed with my dad. I pass these stories onto my kids who laugh just as hard as I did hearing them for the first time. So, Happy Father's Day, to my dad, all the other dad's out there, and to the fathers of our own children. We have some big shoes to follow, I'm sure.
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