parents ink fall 2014 edition

~ Fall 2014

Art

Photography

Poetry

And More

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

Babies a selection of poetry by Shawntee Lyons. This

includes The Beginning, Life of a Baby, and Am I Good or Evil.

Therapist and mom of an autistic child,

Caz Collins describes some of the

challenges she and some of her clients

have faced within the South African

school system. She discusses the

misconceptions of behavioral issues,

what that has meant for their family

and those of her client, and how

difficult it has been to not only obtain

an education for her autistic child, but

for her neurotypical children as well.

This is something every parent should

know as the controversies surrounding

autism is still at the forefront of

education. Page 18

Ten Little Fingers

and Ten Little Toes

By Joann Washburn

A story of love and loss that

can only be told by someone

who has been there. In this

beautiful piece of creative

nonfiction, Joann shares the

story of their first born and

how she and her husband

found victory in their faith.

Page 32

~ Fall 2014

Changes.

Transitions.

Endings.

Beginnings.

Saying Goodbye to

My Old Life and

Hello to A New

One. Page 44

By Sharon Cathey

~ Fall 2014

PARENTS INK ACCEPTS:

● Fiction

● Creative Nonfiction

● Poetry/Prose

● Essay

● Article

● How--To Article

● Recipes

● Product/Book/Movie Review

● Photography

● Graphic Art

● Cartoon/Comic

● Images of physical art such

as:

Painting

Sculpture

Jewelry

Pottery

Quilting

Needlework

And More

Send all submissions to:

[email protected]

Dear Readers,

Thanks for coming back for this second edition of Parents Ink. As you can see, we have some really great stories to tell, helpful hints to pass along, and fun fabric pumpkins just perfect for the fall. We so appreciate your continued readership and encourage you to participate. Everyone here is a parent or grandparent and just wants to share their gifts and talents with you. Please share yours with us! To submit work, email [email protected].

Best,

Jeni Tetamore Editor-in-Chief

mailto:[email protected]?subject=Submission

~ Fall 2014

Babies Poetry by Shawntee Lyons

The Beginning

Everyone knows where they come from,

though they all act as if it’s a big secret.

Some are lucky to have a partner in crime,

others get the wrong flip of a coin.

Ready or not?

This decision may not always be

yours…

Your life is going to change

A baby grows within,

movements, kicking, flipping, hitting.

Nerves and excitement mix deep down.

Nine Months later….

Mommy, Daddy you better be ready!

Because here I am ready for the world!

Looking up to you.

My life will be in your hands,

Don’t sweat it mistakes happen.

It’s really how you fix it that matters!

For now…

Just keep me safe,

warm, happy, full, clean.

And everything will be

great!

~ Fall 2014

Life of a Baby

A tiny person,

who loves to run and play.

I can’t quite talk, but I like to try!

I watch all around,

mockery is the way I learn.

Why can’t this be easy?

Little feet, hard to walk

Little hands, I can use them to talk?

I move my feet and hands,

sometimes they don’t do what I want!

What do you expect I am a

Baby!

I’m a baby, doesn’t mean I can’t try,

I take naps many times a day.

Beware though when I’m up,

I’m always on the go!

I’m tired…

Goodnight and good luck

keeping up,

tomorrow!

~ Fall 2014

Am I Good or Evil?

My innocence can be deceiving!

Many love me.

I love to cuddle and play,

hugs, giggles.

You want some of my candy?

Haha you can’t have any!

Something you taught me.

You fall for me,

when I’m little,

Then I grow…

Things will change,

In the end can you say….

If I’m truly good or evil?

I think not

because…

I can be both!

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

HELLO NUMBERS DISCOVERY PACK is a portable multisensory learning tool that reduces math anxiety by turning numbers into “friends you can count on.” Each plush number includes magnets on both sides of its “head,” allowing the creation of multiple-digit numbers, and embroidered dots on the back link the number shape to its quantity. The number characters also appear in the associated book Hello Numbers and free tablet app for iPads. The book includes 72 stickers and a decoder in the shape of Zero that allows children to create their own numbers and discover secrets on each two-page spread. The combination of book, plush and app makes this a great way to introduce children to the fun and friendly number characters!

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

I f you are a parent of a child with Autism,

you realise pretty quickly that you will

need two things: a thick skin and a lot of

money. The money, to start with, is just to

get through the visits to psychologists,

paediatricians, paediatric neurologists,

Occupational therapists and speech therapists

for assessments. Then if you are pointed in the

right direction you will have to keep paying as

your child goes through hours of behavioural

therapy, OT, speech therapy, horse riding

therapy, auditory integration therapy and you

keep paying for the gluten-free and casein free

diet, which costs about R30 just for a loaf of

bread.

But you breathe deeply knowing it is for the

good of your child’s progress. The thick skin part

is needed in many arenas; dealing with friends

and family who don’t understand and who think

you are a bad parent; “In my day a child like

this would do well to get a jolly good

spanking...” you hear them say. The gymnastics

club tells you to take your child to the Special

Olympics because he doesn’t fit in and even still

you take a deep breath, but when you have to

fight just to get your child an education, that’s

when the thick skin really needs to grow.

As a behavioural therapist, I work with children

on the Autism spectrum. I encounter two kinds

of parents: group one has been told by doctors

and other professionals not to expect too much

from their children. They find some sort of care

facility for their kids and are happy as long as

the kids are happy. Group 2 hasn’t believed the

misinformation from the professionals and who

know their children have potential, are capable

of learning and who believe the South African

Constitution which says every child has a right to

an education.

Group 2 parents, of which I am one, having an

13-year-old son with Autism, spend many hours

hoping our children will be allowed to stay at the

school they are in. “Will they allow us back next

year?” we wonder. We look for any gaps at

school where our children may be falling behind

and work on these at home. We lend the

teachers books on Autism Spectrum Disorder

(ASD), we try not to rock the boat too much and

we pray. Our kids are under the microscope. If a

neurotypical child (that is a typically developing

child) pours sand on another child in the sand

box, the child gets a verbal reprimand and the

day goes on. When our kids do the same thing

we are told at pickup that day there was “an

incident” and that other parents would not be

happy with what our child has done. This is a

mainstream school after all. Good thing for that

thick skin.

The Government White Paper 6 (2001) tells us

that schools are moving towards inclusion and

children with IQs average and above are entitled

If you are a parent of a child with Autism, you

realise pretty quickly that you will need two

things: a thick skin and a lot of money.

~ Fall 2014

to attend mainstream schools. That teaching will

be moving from “making a child fit in” to finding

out the child’s learning style and helping him

achieve the same goals as the rest of the class.

It sounds good. Unfortunately, it’s not so easy to

achieve.

The teacher training curriculum doesn’t offer

much in terms of

ASD and I recently

saw a text book

from the teaching

qualification which

incorrectly

describes children

with autism as

having “psychotic

episodes” so,

clearly, to

mainstream our

high-functioning

children with

Autism we have a

long way to go in

South Africa.

I attend many

school meetings

with my clients

who are parents of

children with

Autism. These

parents, thick skin

and all, have the

following choices when their children reach

Grade R American Kindergarten) or Grade 1:

send their children to an expensive private

school (just keep paying, just keep paying) with

a personal facilitator, which they as parents

must personally fund (cha ching); send the child

to one of 12 schools in Kwa Zulu-Natal (a

province in South Africa, much like a state in the

USA) which accept pupils with Autism, but don’t

expect to get a matric (high school diploma);

home school, give up your job to do it and

possibly limit neurotypical social interaction for

the child; open your own school, to which other

parents of children with ASD will flock due to the

limited educational choices for their children or,

of course hope to

win the lotto and

move to a country

that has better

services for

children with ASD.

Some of my clients

are in mainstream

schools. There are

some schools

where principals

continually

upgrade the staff

by means of

training in the field

of ASD, then there

are others where

teachers have

been left

exhausted,

principals

frustrated and

parents, of course,

are left feeling

desperate at the

thought of where

to send their children since things don’t seem to

be working out at the current school. I have

been surprised at the responses of some of the

schools who have turned down teacher training

offered at the parents’ expense and have simply

asked the parents to take the child out of the

school. I have had the unfortunate experience of

~ Fall 2014

being turned down by several schools because of

my son’s diagnosis; I have even had my

neurotypical son refused entry into a school

because of his brother’s Autism.

Children with ASD are not always model

students. They often have sensory issues and

behavioural difficulties, but nevertheless as South

African citizens they deserve an education.

Schools are often scared to accept (or keep as

the case may be) high-functioning children with

Autism. There is much misunderstanding about

the condition and low training available for

teachers in South Africa. The principals and

teachers, understandably, fear backlash from the

parents of the neurotypical children. They have

to answer to the school board and they feel the

neurotypical children may not understand a child

who is different. When my child first started in a

mainstream school, I too feared the other

parents; would they complain about my child?

Could they influence the powers that be to have

my child removed from the school? I kept his

diagnosis a secret from other parents. One day I

realised if I wanted any type of support I would

have to come out of the Autism closet. Instead of

angry parents who would feel sorry for me or

would ostracise me, I found understanding.

People who encouraged their children to help my

son make friends, I found kids who were kind

and helpful to my son and I let the thick skin

drop for just a moment, long enough to see a

glimmer of faith in mankind after all (I hear

Kumbaya playing in the distance at this point).

Not every child with Autism will cope in a

mainstream setting, and there is talk that “full

service schools” are in the pipeline, but in the

meantime there are children who can cope with

mainstream schooling. There are also (a very

small number) of government schools in South

Africa which don’t say no to our kids and “hats

off” to those few schools which give our kids a

chance, considering the teachers have had no

formal training and little experience in Autism.

I honour those teachers, some of whom have

taught my son, some of whom have taught my

clients, who go the extra mile because they see

the child, and not the limitations of Autism. The

ones who emphasise the strengths of the child

with Autism to build the child’s confidence and

raise respect among the child’s classmates. The

teachers who try harder, who never give up, who

say at the end of the school year, “That was hard

work” followed by “I have learned so much from

this child and I am so glad he was in my class.”

Since it is considered that 1:68 children are

affected by Autism, I can only hope that South

African schools will grow in awareness of the

condition and will embrace these children who

are different – no doubt – but not less.

*Article originally appeared in the Daily News on Page 12 in the Lifestyle

section on Monday, April 2, 2012.

~ Fall 2014

I honour those teachers,

some of whom have

taught my son, some of

whom have taught my

clients, who go the extra

mile because they see the

child, and not the

limitations of Autism.

~ Fall 2014

This afternoon I drove out to friends farm near Brownsville to pick blackberries.

Armed with clippers, gloves and a variety of containers I walked down the hill

where 9-10 foot high vines towered above my head. It was a sunny day with a

soft breeze. The vines provided shade.. Grabbing clusters of berries with my

gloved hand, I lifted them up so I could pluck the berries from underneath with

my bare right hand. A friend taught me to cut off branches with clippers that

were obstructing my progress and access Working my way through the thorny

bramble I clipped off berry loaded branches, laid them down and picked off the

berries. That helped lesson the number of scratches from the vines. While I

picked I listened to the cows distant lowing, chickens crowing, and the dog

rustling through the dry grass. Birds twittered. The fragrance of the berries

drifted in the air. Of course, a delicious few went into my mouth instead of the

bucket.

My mother was a gardener, a farmer at heart. She shared that she could be very

worried, upset, or stressed when she went out to work in her garden and

flowers. While she dug, weeded, trimmed or picked, she said she would discover

that she was at peace with the world. I can identify with her experience. A

sense of pleasant peacefulness settle over me as I picked.

An hour quickly passed. Suddenly I heard a voice calling my name. I looked up

the slope to see my friend's husband kindly inquiring if I was all right. Assured,

he left and I turned back to my task. The shiny plump juicy orbs filled my

containers. At the end of the second hour I reluctantly left clusters of berries still

hanging on the vines and made my way up the hill with my overflowing pans

and large plastic buckets. My friend invited me in to wash off the stains and have

a cold drink. Back home I washed and tucked the berries into pint plastic tubs

with a little sugar. Satisfied with my labor and having fruit stored for the winter,

I smiled at my row of fruit in the freezer in anticipation of pie, cobbler or ice

cream with blackberries! The stains on my hands washed away and lotion on my

arms soothed out the scratches. The berries are long gone but the pleasantness

of that peaceful experience still lingers in my mind. Worth a repeat.

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

By Joann Washburn

We decided to announce our miracle with peanut

butter and jelly sandwiches. That probably

sounds a little silly, but my husband’s name

starts with a P (Peter) and mine starts with a J

(Joann). We put a B (Baby) in the middle and

that gave us PB&J. We carefully made each

sandwich, wrote the message “Peter B-? Joann”

with permanent marker on each bag, and

prepared to see our relatives. The plan was to

deliver the surprise through the sandwiches, but

neither of us knew exactly how to give a PB&J

sandwich to somebody who is not hungry?

Nonetheless, we arrived at my parents’ home,

tossed the first sandwich at my sister (who I had promised would be the first to know

when we were pregnant). She squealed and tears filled her eyes. Her reaction gave it

away for the rest of the family before they had a chance to decode the message on the

sandwich bags. They immediately embraced us and gave us their congratulations.

The following weeks of early pregnancy had me popping Zofran, a medicine used to help

reduce nausea in patients from radiation treatment. “Usually the morning sickness just

goes away after the first trimester” seasoned moms would say. “Hang in there,” they

would encourage. I clung to the advice and counsel and prayed for the vomiting, dry

heaving, headaches (side effect of Zofran), and overall misery to be gone. But at 16 weeks

God had not answered my prayer because I was still miserable. Instead of becoming

angry at God for not taking this suffering away, I decided to use it as an opportunity to

pray more for our baby. I tried to pray for baby’s health and safety in those moments of

nausea which amounted to dozens of prayers daily for this little person.

There were days of some relief when I would find solace and praise God for the first

sensations of visible baby kicks against my uterus, or the somersaults my baby was

performing in utero. These moments allowed me to marvel at the life growing inside me.

At the 8 week point, we had an ultrasound, and one again at 20 weeks. Ultrasounds were

my favorite part of pregnancy, as I was able to get a glimpse at the world and the wonder

inside me. This world was especially created for a tiny, growing human with arms, legs,

fingers, toes, and a heartbeat. During our 20-week ultrasound we saw our baby tossing,

~ Fall 2014

turning, waving and wiggling on the screen. The technician took measurements and told

us with certainty we had a healthy baby.

“Do you two want to know the gender of your baby?” the ultrasound technician asked

me. I did not. I wanted that knowledge to be a surprise. I asked the technician to write

down the gender of the baby on a piece of paper and staple it shut just in case I change

my mind later. She did so without hesitation and handed the note to me.

***

The pregnancy progressed into the sixth month, and about 3 weeks after our 20-week

ultrasound, I noticed a drastic change in our baby’s movement. I remember sitting in my

parent’s backyard waiting for our child to move, but feeling nothing. As I sat there, it

occurred to me I had not felt our baby move for about 5 days. Being a new mom, the

lack of movement did not alarm me, but my family, especially Peter, thought otherwise.

They convinced me to call my physician.

My doctor offered to meet me at his office to make sure the baby’s heartbeat sounded

okay. I would wait until Tuesday because it was Sunday and Memorial Day. He agreed

and said I should lie down and drink juice because the sugar would usually motivate a

baby to move. He assured me that a lack of movement was not a sure a sign of a

problem because babies at 24 weeks are still very small. I remember feeling no peace

after our conversation, and my angst grew when the juice did not solve the problem.

“Please God, let my baby be okay,” I prayed.

Tuesday came and our baby still had not moved,

so I made an appointment. I went to work in the

morning and met my husband at the doctor’s

office around 10:30. Our appointment was at

11:00. In the parking lot outside the clinic, Peter

grabbed my hands and began saying, “In the

name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the

Holy Spirit. Dear Lord, please be with us during

this appointment. I pray for my wife’s strength.

I pray we may accept the outcome of this

appointment, but please Lord let everything be

okay with our baby,” he prayed. I replied with a

firm Amen. Peter’s prayer gave me peace and

strength as had many of his prayers throughout the entire pregnancy.

I checked in, urinated in a cup, and Anna, the medical assistant, weighed me and took

my blood pressure. It all seemed like a routine appointment to me except for Anna’s

demeanor. She appeared concerned. Dr. A. and Troy, the physician’s assistant, came in

~ Fall 2014

promptly after Anna left. After a short greeting, Dr. A. took the hand-held Doppler

(ultrasound wand), asked me to lie down, and then rubbed a clear, gooey substance on my

stomach. He immediately took the wand and began his search for a heartbeat. I

remember lying there pleading with God that we would hear our baby’s heartbeat like a

small horse, and break the unbearable silence.

Dr. A. continued his search. “I am very sorry. I cannot find a heartbeat,” he said. He told

me he wanted to schedule an ultrasound at Skyridge Hospital because sometimes it is

difficult to get a heartbeat with the Doppler. We agreed and he scheduled the exam

immediately. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face and Peter’s. I knew. We knew.

Our baby was gone, despite Doctor A’s best effort to give me hope.

The appointment was scheduled for 1:00 PM. We left Dr. A.’s office and drove straight to

Skyridge. The nurse checked us in and took us back to the exam room immediately. I

laid there starring blankly at the vacant screen as the technician set up for the

ultrasound. Just three weeks prior we saw our baby alive and its image moving on a

similar screen – waving, wiggling, and hiccupping. Baby’s heart was strong at 150 beats

per minute.

The technician squeezed the ultrasound gel on my stomach and I was brought back to

reality. Without making eye contact with the technician, I asked her, before she placed

the wand on my belly, to turn off the screen. I did not want to see what my instincts told

me I would – a lifeless little baby.

It did not take long for her to confirm our baby’s heart had stopped beating. That was it.

Our baby was gone. PB & J sandwich announcements to sheer sorrow in a few hours.

After a few more minutes had passed, the nurse shuffled us into a small, sterile office with

cabinets and two chairs. She asked us to wait. It took a while for another doctor to come

in and meet with us. We would later learn that the cause of death was most likely an

umbilical cord accident at 24 weeks.

When the doctor stepped into the room, she shook our hands and told us how sorry she

was for our loss. Without any further transition, she said, “we need to schedule your

delivery as soon as possible,” “we’ll have to induce labor because baby is too far along to

do a D&C,” she continued coldly. I remember feeling angry at the lack of sensitivity this

doctor had for the raw emotional and psychological state my husband and I were in. We

sat there, hunched over and still. I was not ready to hear that I had to deliver my dead

baby. I was not ready to hear I had to deliver within the next 24 hours. I was not ready to

be a grieving parent. I was not ready for this to be my reality.

We listened to her sterile rundown of what needed to happen and when she was finished,

she patted my knee in an attempt at sympathy, said she would contact Dr. A shortly

(because he would be delivering our baby), and she left in the same business mode for

which she came. There was very little time to digest her words before another nurse came

~ Fall 2014

in and shuffled me awkwardly into a very large room with longer tables, more cabinets

and more chairs than the other office. She motioned toward one of these tables pointing

to a phone receiver; I don’t remember her saying one word to me. I walked slowly to the

table and picked up the phone.

“Hello,” I said with a dry, shaky tone.

“Hi Joann, this is Dr. A.”

As soon as I heard his voice, I felt comforted. Dr. A took the time to make sure I was okay

before gently explaining the next steps in the delivery process. He told me exactly what

the other doctor had said, but he did so in a way that allowed me to process and accept it

(Dr. A is the definition of superior bedside manner). He scheduled the delivery for 7:00 AM

the next day.

Peter and I left the hospital in a daze and drove straight to our church. I remember

kneeling in the small, warm, dim-lit chapel and instead of praying for our little one’s

health and safety, I asked for our baby’s intercession. I asked baby to pray for us because

we were really sad that he/she was gone. I felt peace from that prayer and that was all

that I needed in that moment.

Standing in the parking lot after leaving the chapel, Peter looked at me intently and said

with assurance, “From this point forward, Babe, we’re not going to ask ourselves ‘why’ but

we’re going to ask ourselves ‘how’. Why God allowed this we will never understand, but

we can and will continue to ask God to show us how He wants us to use this for His glory.

He will get us through this.” I embraced him in agreement.

When we returned to our apartment and sat on the

couch, Peter pulled out his wallet, opened it up to a

little compartment, and pulled out the stapled piece of

paper we had received from the technician. He asked

me what sex I thought the baby was. I told him we

were having a girl. Yes, a girl. I just knew it. Peter

listened to my conviction and agreed it was probably a

girl. Slowly, he unfolded the paper, and it read:

We were having a son.

***

The next morning, I checked into the hospital. The

room was cozy and non-threatening. The atmosphere

helped to calm my nerves. I didn’t know what to

~ Fall 2014

expect. Up until this point, I had been preparing myself for a natural delivery - a delivery

initiated by a baby. Now, a pill would be doing the job. It was a tiny white pill. I never

even noticed when it was inserted into my cervix to start contractions. Dr. A. said it could

take up to 12 hours for the first pill to start working. I prayed ardently that God would

make the delivery occur more quickly than that.

I felt contractions within the first hour. God had heard this prayer and I was thankful.

Eight hours later, the contractions intensified and the pain was strongest in my lower

back. Peter massaged my back trying to ease the pain. Jenny, my nurse, came in and

asked if I wanted an epidural. I knew the pain was too much for me to handle on top of

my emotional state, and I accepted it.

During this time, Peter had called our priest, a good friend of ours, and asked if he would

come to the hospital to offer strength through prayer. When he arrived, he brought the

comfort of the Church. He, along with Peter and our close family, who were all in the

room with us, stood at my bedside, bowed their heads, placed their hands on me, and

prayed silently as Father anointed my head with Holy Oil and prayed. God offered His

healing and strength through the warmth of every hand, the gentle voice of the priest, and

the coolness of the Oil on my forehead and I accepted it; He assured me that I was not in

this alone.

Shortly afterwards, Jenny came in to check my cervix and insert a catheter. This was at

approximately the 12 hour point in the delivery. When she was finished, my water broke

and I had the urge to push. I looked at Peter and remember saying, “I can’t do this. I

can’t do this. I can’t do this. Don’t make me do this.” He squeezed my hand, looked me in

the eyes, and just then, Jenny delivered my son. He came into this world after just one

push.

I was terrified to look at him because I remember Dr. A. explaining that some babies can

show signs of a breakdown of tissue depending on how long they had been in the womb

after their death. Through a flood of tears, I asked Peter how our son looked. Peter

sobbed, “He is perfect, Babe.” Jenny handed his swaddled body to me shortly after

delivery, and I looked at his tiny face for the first time; Peter was right. He was absolutely

perfect.

Jacob Christopher Washburn was stillborn on June 2nd and weighed nearly 1 pound. He

measured 10.5 inches long. Jacob stole my heart with his baggy skin, itty-bitty feet and

hands, and handsome face. Peter and I spent the next few hours with our families trying

to memorize every feature of Jacob into our memories because this would be the first and

last day to get to know him. I gently stroked his tiny cheeks and bald head and admired

his 10 little toes; his foot, still black from the ink used to take his footprint, was no bigger

than Peter’s thumb. He had a wrinkly brow, petite nose and the long, Washburn

eyelashes. That evening, we said our goodbyes and the nurse took him away. When she

came back, she handed me two sleeping pills. I took one and gave the other one to Peter.

~ Fall 2014

We were grateful to have a reprieve from the day’s painful emotions. When I left the

hospital the next morning without my Jacob, it was the hardest thing I had ever done.

***

Four months after Jacob’s death, I was

invited to a Catholic Vigil Praise at the St.

John Vianney Theological Seminary in

Denver. Vigil Praise is an event for young

adult Christians to spend an evening

worshiping Jesus through music. The

Catholic Sacrament of Reconciliation is

offered during the event and I decided to

pray the Sacrament because of the mistrust

in God I still held after losing Jacob. I sat

down in the Reconciliation room and began

the rite with the words, In the name of the

Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

I briefly explained to the priest my loss and grief and trust issues. The priest, who was a

stranger to me, sat there a moment and then began to weep. His emotion was as if he

knew me, but he did not. His tears were as if he was grieving the loss of Jacob and yet he

did not know Jacob. I saw from the expression in his eyes that his emotion was detached

from him and he had no control over it. He told me with great empathy and compassion

how terribly sad he was for our loss and that Jesus never meant for death to enter the

world.

I left the Sacrament in a bewildered state of mind. I took this feeling to one of the pews

outside the Reconciliation room. There, I knelt down. With my eyes shut and head bowed

I began to recall the day my son was buried. The day’s events played out in my mind as

they had so many times before. The flood of memories was very much like a movie in a

perpetual state of view; rewind; view again. I remembered at the cemetery there was no

sun, only rain. The green tent effectively deflected the rain and under the tent was a neat,

meticulously arranged set of white chairs. In front of the seating there was a newly dug

hole in the ground. The silver pedestal in front held our son’s white casket which was no

bigger than a treasure chest. Small, white daisies adorned the top of the pedestal and a

grave marker rested next to it. The marker was engraved with the words from the poem

“Footprints”:

“Lord, You said that once I decided to follow You, we would walk side by side through life.

But when I needed You most, I saw only one set of footprints in the sand. The Lord

replied, “I Love you and would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering,

when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

St. John Vianney Theological Seminary in Denver

~ Fall 2014

My husband and I sat in the front row. We were numb and emotionally exhausted. Our

family and friends formed behind us as everyone huddled under the tent. Peter and I sat

there motionless staring at Jacob’s casket as our pastor spoke the funeral prayers.

In that pew, though, something changed in my memory. Before, I had always sensed Our

Lord was with me in spirit at the cemetery the day we buried Jacob. This time, I saw Him

under the tent with me. Jesus was crying and sad. He was not invisible this time. He

was not looking down on me from somewhere above. Rather, he was physically present

with us at the grave site.

Those precious moments in the pew after Reconciliation were an epiphany and deep

healing moment for me. Up until that point, I had felt God was with me during my

grieving process, but not in it with me.

Jesus gave me an important message that day. He was going to be there with me, in it,

through this entire process. A few years later, when my husband and I decided to try

again for another baby, we both felt anxious and fearful we would lose another child. I

reflected back on the vigor God provided during my pregnancy sickness, during the

delivery of Jacob and then the wonderful warmth and peace I received during those

minutes in the pew after the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and knew that no matter what

happened next, it would be okay.

***

The delivery of our little girl, Zoey Marie Washburn was a powerful, peaceful, emotional,

and beautiful experience. Despite a few complications surrounding her birth, meconium

and a heart murmur, she came swiftly and safely. Zoey means ‘full of life’ in Greek and we

named her that because she truly is our gift of life; God blessed us abundantly with her

and we continue to be absolutely smitten over this creation from God.

But, I still think about Jacob a dozen times a day and that is okay. I am still healing.

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

Step-by-Step

Instructional

Guide

By

Barb Abrams

~ Fall 2014

* Fabric * Pearl Cotton * Needle * Fiber Fill * Jute

* Stick to Cut for Stem * Artificial Fall Leaves * Raffia

1.) Start with a piece of fabric 9 x 18 inches

2.) Press down the fabric about 1/4” along the length of the fabric. If you don’t want

to use the iron, you can “finger press’. (This will be your top)

3.) Sew the two short sides together (right side together). This is the only part I prefer

to do on the machine to make it a bit stronger, but it could be done by hand. I use a

1/4” seam and then press to one side.

4.) It works best to use a longer needles with a large eye. You don’t want a very “fat’

needle, though. It will be too difficult to get through the fabric. Regular thread breaks

too easily, so I recommend using Pearl Cotton because it is strong (probably have to

find in a quilt shop). Once your needle is treaded, double the thread and knot. You will

be using the strength of two threads. New sew a running stitch along the length of the

bottom on the wrong side of the fabric. This is the side you did not press under. Pull as

tight as you can without breaking the thread around that several times tightly to give it

a good, solid closure. Sew a securing stitch to the end.

~ Fall 2014

5.) Turn your fabric right side out and sew another running stitch on the top along the

turned under fabric. You will be stitching into both fabrics. This will give you a nicer

finish. After you are done stitching, pull just a bit and start stuffing with fiber fill. I’ve

tried stuffing with other things and never liked the looks. I’ve also known people who

put rice or bean in the bottom to add a bit of weight, but since I keep mine in the attic

from year to year, I didn’t want anything to attract mice or bugs, and don’t find the

added weight necessary.

6.) After you have stuffed them to your liking, pull the threads as tight as you can and

tie off. On this side you won’t wrap the threads around like you did on the bottom. You

will have a small opening.

7.) Using your jute wrap around the pumpkin to give it shape, or define its pumpkiness,

go around once, crossed over like when you wrap a package and go around again, tied

and double knotted on top. Repeat the process exactly the same in between the first

wrappings. That will give a total of 8 “stripes” around the pumpkin. The tighter you pull

each one, the more definition you have.

8.) Now it is time to decorate it up! Get some twigs about the right thickness as you

want your stem to be and cut them several inches long.

Push the stem into the center of the pumpkin, along

with artificial leaves, greenery and anything else you

want. When you have them all arranged the way you

want, hot glue them into place. Finish with a raffia bow,

also hot glued into place.

Any size pumpkin can

be made. The length is

2x the width. For a

fatter pumpkin, then

make it 2.5x the width.

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

T his is the stage of life I am in right now. I find myself alternately very busy; then

with large stretches of time on my hands. Sometimes I am happy and content, and

other times, like now, tears are very close to the surface. These days, my work is

to make decisions about which possessions I will take into the next stage of my life and

what doesn’t make the cut.

Memories will certainly go with me. Memories of my children, my husband, my life…in this

home and our previous homes…all of them. Ten, to be precise. All our children have not

lived in all the homes, and some were our homes only briefly. But they were still ‘homes’

because we were together, sharing experiences, joys, struggles, laughter, and tears.

Togetherness and shared lives are what make a home, a home. Whether I have lived in a

small rented house, an apartment, a large house in a subdivision, the key to making it

‘home’ has always been doing life together. Didn’t matter if it was beautifully decorated

and arranged, with planned gardens and living spaces, or bare floors and walls. We lived

through it all together…And as you might guess, some of it we loved, and some of it was

rough, really rough. But even through the rough parts we made it out alive. J

We always strived for ‘better’ with each move, but different states, leaving friends behind,

changing jobs, houses, and neighborhoods did not always result in ‘better’. Sometimes we

just marked time until that next thing came along. In some of our homes, I learned new

skills like how to feed a growing family with a shrinking food budget, or tiling…or plumbing.

Plumbing, partly because of my pursuit of natural health. I

remember one occasion when I made Master Tonic, a very

potent medicine, derived from blend of habanero chilies,

onion, ginger, garlic and horseradish steeped for weeks in

apple cider vinegar. I strained this concoction and put the

pulp down the garbage disposal. Who wouldn’t? The

garbage disposal had other ideas. The pipe separated at

the joint between the disposer and the trap and the pulp

came spewing out from under the sink, covering the

kitchen floor and filling the air with eye-tearing, nose-

searing fumes, almost strong enough to strip paint. I

handed over the car keys and treated my children to

breakfast while I cleaned and aired the kitchen and put the

pipes back together under the sink. My concoctions are now legendary, part of the

memories and ties binding us together…as well as my renowned plumbing skills! (This was

NOT my only venture into plumbing or home repair!)

Whether there were just a few of us, or all of us, when we moved, most important were

our relationships. We faced the newness together; spending hours with each other during

the first few weeks and months as we played games, talked and worked together making

~ Fall 2014

our new house a home, and explored our new surroundings. We were each other’s best

friends as we played video and board games and cooked together. We explored new

territories, met new neighbors, made new connections in groups, churches, clubs, parks,

and schools. We made it work, creating memories, creating togetherness, creating family.

On moving day, while bringing in furniture and arranging our new home, we noticed a

couple of our children were missing. They had gone to reconnoiter the new neighborhood

alone! They knocked on each door, both sides of the street, to learn who lived where, and

most important, we heard later, “do you have any kids for us to play with?”! Their efforts

were rewarded by finding a family with 4 children of similar ages and stages, pizza for

supper and new friendships lasting for several years…The parents introduced us to their

church, which became our home church for 15 years.

As I reflect on these things, as I go forward into the next phase of life, I wonder…For 36

years, in 10 new homes, 10 new neighborhoods, and with thousands of experiences, our

children led me to new friends and new adventures. They introduced themselves to other

children…on the playground, the soccer field, at swim meets, in classes of all types…and

we met their parents who became friends. We bonded at soccer games in the snow and

went to end of year parties. These parents with whom we have moved through activities

and done life are now mostly just memories although we remain loosely connected. We no

longer have our children’s activities and common experiences tying us together. We enjoy

the memories and ‘catching up’, during the times our paths cross.

N ow, I will be exploring with the man of my life, still together, but different… I

wonder what it will be like making our way without our “advance guard”. Our

house and home will change yet again. Temporarily, home will be a 25-foot travel

trailer (who knows what you can even fit in that amount of space?!), outfitted to see the

world. We will explore to find our

new dream home and location…

together. I don’t know what the

future holds, but I know Who

holds the future. I know, too, that

whatever else it might be, it will

be an adventure.

“For 36 years, in 10 new homes, 10 new neighborhoods, and with thousands

of experiences, our children led me to new friends and new adventures. “

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

What began as a way to support her father-in-law while he battled cancer, soon became a way for Cheri Taylor to

not only make her own statement about her battle with cancer, but a way to save her own life, get back a piece of her independence, and help

support her family.

~ Fall 2014

In 2001, Karl and Cheri

Taylor moved from

Colorado to Indiana to

help his mom take care of

his dad after he had

received his cancer

diagnosis. After years of

working at Rocky Flats, the

controversial nuclear plant

in Arvada, Colorado, and

then as a Fire Chief, Mr.

Taylor’s cancer diagnosis

didn’t look good. Karl and Cheri realized it was confusing for some

people to get a hold of the right people to get help and support, so

started a support group there in Warsaw to assist with resources and

information. However, shortly after this began, Cheri began a health

battle of her own.

~ Fall 2014

Shortly after the couple had

become active in the support

group, Cheri suffered a TIA stroke,

or a Transient Ischemic Attack.

These are often called mini-

strokes, and while they don’t

generally cause permanent brain

damage, they are a serious

warning sign of a stroke and

often have other side-effects.

In Cheri’s case, it adversely

affected her memory, so in

order to help her get some of

that back, Karl and Cheri

started making bracelets. The

patterns and colors helped

her to focus her thinking.

~ Fall 2014

They bought supplies to not only make

cancer awareness bracelets, but also

items they could sell at the flea

market and rallies. But mostly, they

helped her regain brain functions.

~ Fall 2014

But the fight was just beginning for Karl and Cheri. After another TIA, the

doctor did a scan of her head and found a lump in her neck. Once the

biopsy was complete, Cheri was also diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Now

she was making cancer awareness bracelets for herself, as well. They

were able to remove her thyroid, but the stew of medications often

make her sick and dizzy. Her arms and legs hurt all the time and she is

easily confused.

~ Fall 2014

However, when she is at her work table, often with their two adolescent

daughters now, she can smile as she creates the next set of earrings or a

new bracelet. While Karl’s dad lost his battle with cancer a few years

ago, Cheri continues on through being tired, the risk of relapse, more

strokes, and medication side-effects. They recently moved back to

Colorado so that they could be closer to her family and Karl is helping

her find new places to sell her little pieces of sanity-saving beauty.

~ Fall 2014

How Sleep’n Sync is Revolutionary

Mission

To help children excel when facing challenges and improve their functional skills and their wellbeing

Sleep’n Sync’s objective is to help the child achieve their goals fast. It does this through an audio designed to help the

child with the specific issue being addressed, which is played at night, as the child sleeps, every day for six weeks. Sleep’n Sync uses the power of the mind and empowers the natural motivation in children to do well. It does this by integrating to the audio positive suggestions and messages that reach the subconscious mind of the child at a highly receptive state: sleep. Non-Invasive

Non-confrontational: with Sleep’n Sync there is no need for negotiating or convincing the child to do the program every day, no need to use their valuable fun time for it.

Easy to use: the program’s implementation does not affect your child’s schedule, it is at night during sleep time, no need to set time from the child’s busy day for this. Program the alarm with Sleep’n Sync’s audio at a time the child is asleep, and set it to repeat every night.

Based on extensive scientific research and best practices: each Program is designed based on extensive scientific research and best practices, so that the messages and recommendations contained in the program are effective and to the point of the specific goal of the program.

Sleep’n Sync uses: Principles of hypnotherapy by designing the necessary messages the child needs in the form

of positive suggestions tailored to be easily absorbed by the subconscious mind of the child.

~ Fall 2014

Sleep, as it provides a highly receptive state of the subconscious mind. The subconscious mind is always awake and receptive, however this receptivity is increased when the conscious mind does not interfere/ is resting/cooled down, as it occurs during sleep. In addition, sleep is a time when the outside input is minimized, and the information received during the awake time is sorted, organized, evaluated, linked with other memories, and stored or discarded according to its relevance. Sleep’n Sync takes advantage of sleep as a natural receptive state for its messages to effectively be absorbed by the subconscious mind, and the natural function of sleep in building and solidifying brain connections, and its natural role as self-therapy since it processes and links negative feelings and experiences with positive feelings and previous experiences, diminishing their overall negative effect (Rock )

Neuroplasticity: which is the changing of the strength of neural connections, the adding or removing of connections or the adding of new cells. Thinking, learning and acting actually changes the structure and functional organization of the brain.(Christiansen & Baum, 2005).

Principles of neuroplasticity: The brains ability to act and react is ever-changing. It is constantly laying down new pathways for neural communication and to re-arrange existing ones. The changing of neurons, the organization of their networks, and their function changes via new experiences

Repetition: It is well known that repetition wires the brain. It is repetition that allows a person’s brain to esptablish the necessary connections or synapses between the brain cells. Learning occurs right where neurons meet. Without these connections, the brain cells are useless. It is known that what wires a person’s brain is repeated experience, and without it, key synapses do not form. And if such connections, once formed are used too seldom to be strengthened and reinforced, the brain eventually elliminates them. Therefore, repetition of the desired messages in the suggestions in Sleep’n Sync audios is a key element for the effectiveness of the message incorporation into the subconscious mind of the child.

Binaural Beats in the background music: Optional. Binaural beats work by sending two different tones to each ear. The frequency difference between the tones is created by the brain as a “binaural beat”. With this technology, one can take the mind into a relaxed and receptive state, allowing easier connections between the brain cells. This is optional since sleep is already a receptive state for the messages to be absorbed, however its use can help.

Connecting the subconscious mind with the conscious mind: This is what Sleep’n Sync’s audios facilitate, so that when the child is awake, he/she has the self confidence, skills and tools to use in order to get his/her desired goals.

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

O ctober 31st is a day

shrouded in myth, mystery,

and mischief. Is it the vigil of a

Christian feast day, a pagan festival, a

secular celebration of capitalism, or a

satanic holy day? Simply put-yes to all

of the above. It seems everyone

wants to claim a piece of the day.

Halloween. The word conjures up

images of ghosts and ghouls, popcorn

balls and candy bars. The word itself is

actually a contraction of two old

English words: “hallow” meaning saint

or holy, and “e’en” meaning evening.

Halloween is, in fact, a holy evening.

Of the claimants mentioned above,

only two have a real historical claim,

the others have “tricked” society by

usurping the day for their own.

Satanists claim it as their high holy day

based on the practices of the early

Celts. Unfortunately, though the Celts

were pagans, that is, they did not

believe in only one God or in Jesus,

they were not specifically Satanists for

they did not believe in him, either.

Those who worship Satan have laid

claim to Halloween more specifically

as a response to the Christian aspects

that were laid down in the early

centuries after Jesus than to any real

historical foundation that this was a

universal day to worship Satan. As for

the secular and commercial aspects

of Halloween, we can only say that a

capitalistic economy will always latch

onto any celebration that will

generate a profit. Costumes, candy,

party supplies, cards, and more are

the contraptions of an affluent society.

They are not good or bad, just

expensive. Christmas is subjected to

the same

treatment.

T he

early

Celts of Ireland

believed in

several gods of

birth, rebirth,

and death.

Their fall fire

festival at the

end of October

was to

celebrate the

harvest. It was

a time of plenty

but also a time

of death as the

earth was laid

barren for the

winter. It was a

time to

~ Fall 2014

remember the dead and ward off

evil spirits. In many ways we

celebrate a similar holiday of the

harvest on Thanksgiving and we

remember our dead on Memorial

Day and Veteran’s Day. We may not

ward off evil spirits at these times, but

Christians acknowledge that evil

spirits do exist and that we must be

alert and proactive in warding them

off through the power of Jesus. For

the Celts Halloween was a “holy

evening”.

E arly Christians honored their

dead, especially those

martyred, from the very beginning.

~ Fall 2014

They initially set aside special days for

each martyr, but by the time of the

persecutions during the rule of

Diocletian (284-305BCE) there were so

many that this was no longer feasible.

In 610 BCE, Pope Boniface IV set aside

May 13th as an anniversary to honor

all who had died in their faith. Pope

Gregory III later moved this day to

Nov. 1st in the early 8th century.

Whether this move was specifically

made to replace the Celtic

celebration is debatable. Arguments

can be made for and against it.

Regardless of the exact purpose, the

celebration of those who died was still

an important part of early Christianity

that still exists today. Nov. 1st was

called Hallowmas or Mass of the Holy

Ones, known today by Catholics as All

Saint’s Day. The word “saint” was used

by early Christians to denote anyone

who believed in Jesus, dead or alive.

The word means “sanctified” or “holy.”

Halloween is the holy vigil held the

evening before, much like Christmas

Eve is the holy vigil held before the

Mass of the Christ (Christmas).

S ome of the common

customs surrounding

Halloween have been gleaned from

several sources, many originating with

the Celtic

festival.

Wearing

costumes was

thought to

have been

practiced by

the Celts to

ward off evil

spirits but did

not become

commonplace in Europe until the 17th

century. Carving jack-o-lanterns

stemmed from an Irish folktale of a

man named Jack who tricked the

devil and was then denied entrance

to both Heaven and Hell due to his evil

ways and was forced to wander the

earth with a single light inside a

carved turnip. These practices were

brought to America in the early 19th

century by Irish immigrants. Trick or

treating is related to a European

practice called “souling.” Early

Christians would walk from village to

village and beg for soul cakes. These

cakes represented prayers that would

be said for their deceased relatives.

Many of the current practices of

parties and so forth are uniquely

American in nature.

Is Halloween a trick or a treat? It really

depends on how you approach it.

You most definitely can be tricked into

~ Fall 2014

freaking out (literally) over its

satanic connections or by the

anticipated costs and cavities

demanded by society.

H owever, you can

treat yourself and

your family to a day to

remember those who have

gone before you in faith. Read

about those martyred for Christ,

both past and present. Dress up

in ways to honor them.

Celebrate God’s blessing of a

bountiful harvest with feasts

from your garden. Carve your

pumpkins using the “Pumpkin

Prayer” found at http://

www.dltk-bible.com/

pumpkincarving.htm

to reflect the

positive aspects of

following Jesus and

let His light shine for

you. Don’t let

Halloween become a

“hollow” day but

rather keep it

“hallowed” as you

celebrate. Happy All

Hallows Eve!

http://www.dltk-bible.com/pumpkincarving.htm



~ Fall 2014

Regardless of

your individual

traditions, the

holidays are

always a time

for family. And

maybe a little

madness. By Jeni Tetamore

~ Fall 2014

With Halloween kicking off the holiday

season, there isn’t much time before

we are bombarded with

advertisements for Christmas (or

Hanukkah and Kwanza if that is what

you celebrate). Any one of three is still

surrounded by gift-giving practices,

family gatherings and celebrations.

And whatever happened to

Thanksgiving?

Really, you’d think the biggest eating

day of the year would get more

respect. If for no other reason than it’s

the kick-off for the biggest shopping

day of the year. But this then begs the

question I think we all ask ourselves at

one point or another sometime

between October and the first of

January: Are we all crazy? And if we

weren’t before, are we by January

1st?

We tend to make ourselves that way

with wild bursts of shopping, cleaning,

cooking, baking, more shopping, and

did I mention shopping? Let’s stop the

madness.

Pinching Pennies Costumes, food, gifts, candy, food,

and more gifts take a big bite out of

the budget. If you haven’t been

putting aside money all year for just

these next three months, there are still

ways to keep from going completely

broke.

Thrift Store. For your Halloween

costumes and seasonal decorating,

there is nothing better than your

neighborhood thrift store. Most stores

even carry brand-new costumes at a

significantly discounted price, so you

don’t even have to settle for buying

used if you don’t want to.

You can get some great decorations

for all of the major holidays, too.

Don’t assume that because you are

buying second hand, that it will be

kitschy or outdated! Again, many

stores get in items that were overstock

for retailers and so they are brand-

new, still in the packaging but half the

price. The retailers get a discount for

the donation and you get to reap the

rewards.

~ Fall 2014

Buying Bulk. I know this seems obvious

since everyone nowadays has a

Costco card, but did you know that

you can freeze a gallon of milk? It’s

true. Just buy an extra gallon during a

time when you know you won’t have

time to make that extra trip to the

grocery story, and stick it in your

freezer. Other things to buy in bulk

that are really handy for holiday

recipes:

Bananas (peel and freeze to

use in smoothies or other

recipes; break into thirds for

easy grinding in a blender)

Apples (slice and freeze for

the same reasons; they can

go from freezer to oven more

easily than most recipes, too)

Oranges and other citrus fruits

(peel, separate, and freeze in

Ziplocs; zest your peels and

seal well, then refrigerate)

Loaves of bread (freeze

extras)

And more… When in doubt,

stick it in the freezer or if you

have a dry good, put a bay

leaf in it to keep out the bugs!

Set Boundaries Excess often is the name of the game

this time of year, but that can lead to

cranky kids and grumpy parents.

Knowing when to say when is key.

Cut the Sugar. And I hear the outcry

going out across the land, but hear

me out. All the extra candy and

goodies go straight to the adrenal

glands and put everything off

balance. Especially with all the

refined sugar that is in things. I am

also not an advocate for artificial

sweeteners, but that’s for another

day. Instead, try to keep the refined

sugars out of your own cooking at

home, so that the extra stuff your kids

get at school or elsewhere doesn’t

cause an overload.

~ Fall 2014

For instance, try switching to

turbinado sugar, honey, or agave

syrup in your own cooking. Turbinado

sugar is raw cane sugar, so it doesn’t

have as many calories, nor does it

cause a lot of the side effects that

refined sugar causes (hyperactivity,

headaches, etc.) and has a better

glycemic value for your health. You

can use it just like regular sugar in all

of your cooking and our kids actually

like the flavor better.

Set Your Budget. Even if you haven’t

started saving now, you can still

decide how much you are going to

spend and on who. Keep in mind, you

do not have to buy a gift for

everyone you know. Nor do you have

to buy a gift for every member of your

family. Maybe this year, draw names

among the adults and set a $25 limit.

Instead of buying for all of your nieces

and nephews, have the children all

do the same. One kid, one name with

a $10 limit. If you do this for both sides

of your family and you are a family of

four, you just spent $90 instead of...

how much? Then limit yourself when

buying gifts for your kids. One gift from

Mom and Dad, one gift from Santa

(or however you do that), and a

stocking stuffer under $10. Total

budget for the kids - $50 each. All

others? Homemade goodies!

Party On, Dude. Holiday parties are a

lot of fun, but going and hosting gets

expensive. Again, if you are really

having to watch your pennies, be

choosey about where you go and

who you have over. Maybe if you do

a big gathering for Thanksgiving and/

or Christmas, instead of trying to do all

the cooking yourself - have a potluck.

You provide the main dish and

perhaps beverages, then have

everyone else bring in everything else.

You’ll need to organize who is

bringing what, so you know what to

suggest if need be, but it is still less

expensive than doing it all yourself.

And less work! Plus, you get to taste

other people’s specialties and enjoy

yourself more with those you love.

Preparing for the Invasion Maybe this year, everyone is coming

to your house. Maybe they are all

staying at your house. And you’re not

~ Fall 2014

even close to being ready for people

to be raiding your fridge, using your

bathroom, or living in your space.

That’s okay. Here are some quick tips

to have your home in tip top shape

long before Thanksgiving, much less

Christmas!

Prepare for Battle. Gather up your

supplies. It takes a little longer to put

together a bag for trash, one for put-

aways, all your cleaning supplies, etc.

before you get started, but it’s worth

it to not have to go back looking for it

after you’re elbow deep in suds. Even

if you don’t need something for one

room, you will need it for the next.

Get it all together in one spot and

take it with you from room to room.

Then you are not breaking your stride

as you get into your cleaning mojo.

Now Is Not The Time. Do not try to sort

out too many things. If you know you

don’t want to have something in a

room, stick it in the put-away bag,

store it in a safe place, then come

back to it after the holidays. Just

focus on what must be done to make

your home what you want it to be for

your company and deal with the big

stuff after everyone goes home.

Stay Focused. It’s tempting to want

every single room in your home

spotless. When you start feeling this

way, repeat this mantra: “I am not

Martha Stewart and I don’t want to

be!” Really, no one is going to look in

your closet, or your kids closets, or

many other places for that matter.

Make sure that your guest’s bedroom

is comfortable and clean, that they

have a place to hang and fold their

clothes, and a place to retreat when

they need one. Then social areas -

bathroom, kitchen, dining room, and

living room/family room.

Work your way from your bathroom to

your kitchen to your entertaining

areas as these first two often need

the most in-depth cleaning. Try

starting from the back of your house

and working your way to the front.

That way you can just take the trash

out when you’re done!

~ Fall 2014

Maintain Your Health This is a prime time for people to get

sick. The weather is bad, we don’t get

outside as much. We eat bad food.

The list goes on, and this makes

celebrating miserable. Now, more

than ever, you need to be paying

attention to your physical and mental

health.

Eat Your Fruits and Veggies. It sounds

obvious, but it’s surprising how often

we forget the simple. Raw fruits and

vegetables are our best defense

against virus and bacteria. They are

rich in vitamins, minerals, and

antioxidants. The richer the color of

your fresh food, the better it is for you.

Try to add plenty of papaya,

butternut squash, and mango to your

regular choices as they are

particularly good for digestion!

You’ve Got to Keep Moving. Skip the

New Year’s Resolutions and start

moving on Monday. Those who

choose to start anything on a

Monday have been shown to have a

greater success rate and are more

likely to stick with it. Yoga, treadmill,

walk your kids to school instead of

driving them… Something! Get your

heart rate up and release those

endorphins. If you’re not sure about

your ability to exercise, now is a good

time to schedule that check up with

your doctor and ask.

Find Some Quiet. Meditate, do a Bible

(or other religious) study, turn off the

electronics and get some silence in

your life. There is a lot of noise going

on around you, adding stress and

making you feel pressured. Even if

you only do this for fifteen minutes a

day, you will notice that you are

calmer and more ready to handle

the pressures of parenthood, job, and

all the holiday crush.

The important thing is to keep your

life, diet, and priorities balanced so

that you can enjoy the holidays with

your family and friends and not spend

it sick, miserable, and stressed. Take

the time you need for you.

~ Fall 2014

~ Fall 2014

I am a freelance cartoonist/graphic artist. I work with a client who has a number of sub-clients they work with. My job with this client is to be the GA that makes sure everything is

ready to print. This is industrial printing, so it’s finicky work, everything must pass what is called “preflight”: organizing the materials so the large print machines won’t automatically reject it.

More importantly, though, I am a stay at home dad for my four-year-old boy who stays with me throughout the day while my wife goes to work.

In the first week of August, friends of ours in Japan sent their nine-year-old daughter to stay with us for two weeks. My wife taught their daughter English while we were living in Japan five years ago, and we have stayed close with the family since we came back. Luckily for her, my best friend also has a ten-year-old daughter who is very eager to meet her Japanese counterpart. Naturally, she stayed with us as well. That means I have three kids with me on a rather chaotic work day. The following is a transcript (Loosely transcribed) of one hour of my day with the three kids and work:

As you may suspect, I’ve changed the names to protect the guilty: Jamie is my friend’s daughter, she calls me “Uncle Guy” because our families are so close. Aoi is our Japanese guest and Ken is my son.

~ Fall 2014

Aoi

Guy, I dropped a quarter into the sewing table, can

you come get it?

(I go upstairs, the quarter is pretty deep in the table.)

Me

I don’t know, Aoi… I think it’s gone.

Aoi

But… I wanted to collect American quarters, though.

Me

That’s easy, I’ll give you a new one to replace it.

Did you know there were lots of different quarters?

Ken

(Yelling from downstairs)

Daddy, will you help me fix the tree? I can’t fix the tree in Lego Star Wars!

Jamie

We are going to make pancakes.

Me

I’d rather you didn’t. You trashed the place yesterday making pancakes.

(At this point Jamie wanders off to the kitchen,

either not hearing or ignoring me.)

I begin working on uploading one of my clients’ graphic sets,

it’s slow going because we are having some internet slowdown.

But things are going well… still, I hear the girls in the kitchen.

Jamie

Where is the oil? I used up all of the oil and now

the pancakes are sticking to the pans!

~ Fall 2014

I can smell burned pancakes coming from the kitchen…

I’m wondering how fast I can get to the fire extinguisher and just how much

damage that does to a stove…

Aoi

I opened the big milk… was I supposed to use the red milk up first?

Jamie

Aoi, do you want 4 pancakes? I think I made too many.

Aoi

No, thank you. Perhaps Guy or Ken will eat them.

The girls go upstairs, forgetting to ask us if we actually wanted the blackened

pancakes… I begin to wonder about the fate of said well-done confections.

Going in the kitchen I find it in expected disarray; Plates of mostly eaten food

disturbing small dunes of unmixed pancake batter sprinkled with dark

shadows of nomadic cinnamon. Bowls left half-full of viscous,

slowly hardening batter mixed with thin columns of amber honey which

straddle the lip of the bowl and then flee from the white porcelain confines of

their container, streaming outward to create mixed-color dots which scatter

liberally about the countertops in such a way as to make

Jackson Pollock proud. A few pancakes of random sizes lay where they fell in

a plate next to a toppled, gaping bottle of grapeseed oil.

They do indeed look like little flattened maps of pitiful, misshapen alien worlds;

scorched-earth continents adrift in beige oceans.

Thankfully, though, there are no burn-marks on the walls or stove. Regardless,

trashed is still not good. Time to call Jamie and Aoi to the carpet.

Me

Girls, I asked you not to leave the kitchen trashed.

This would be why I didn’t want you to make pancakes.

Jamie

Sorry, Uncle Guy.

~ Fall 2014

Aoi

I’m sorry about the mess.

Me

It’s not the mess that’s the problem. That’s normal. I really hate to being

made responsible for other peoples’ problems. It is disrespectful to me. It feels

like you don’t care about me.

Jamie

Sorry, Uncle Guy.

(They start to clean up the kitchen.)

I get an Email from Bob (My client): One of the components of our client’s website just

went offline and they are demoing it in half an hour. The problem needs to be fixed yesterday.

Triple Urgent.

…and Ken throws the controller for the PS3

Me

That’s it. We do NOT throw electronics.

I’m a tech guy, I have strict rules about respecting electronics in my

household. Without warning, I turn off the PS3 mid-game

eliciting a plaintive wail from Ken.

The girls declare that they are finished cleaning. I look over their work: they

have simply tossed everything in the sink. The sink is now filled with goopy

pancake-batter water which is slowly infiltrating the precariously stacked

dishes causing them to threaten a catastrophic, suicidal revolt in order to

escape their sludgy fate. The sink has also become hopelessly clogged and

the countertops still sport more dots and dashes than a turn-of-the-century

telegraph station. They stand looking hopefully at me, giving me the “Can we

go now?” smiles and bouncing a little.

~ Fall 2014

Me

Nope… dishes too.

Jamie

What?!? Where? The dishwasher is full!

Me

Okay… well I can’t really dispute that.

(The clock is ticking on the demo but I empty the dishwasher anyway.

Naturally, the girls vanish.)

Finished. Girls? Girls? Girls!

The girls come back and put the dishes in the dishwasher, looking dejected

that I would be so mean as to interrupt their play.

Ken

Daddy, I’m bored.

Me

Go play Legos.

Email: One of the sub-clients print items didn’t pass preflight and failed to print the front of

the business card. I need to fix that as well.

I manage to get the primary website problem fixed just in time for the demo.

Now it’s time to get cracking on the problem with the print issue.

Jamie

We’re done with the dishes, can we go play?

Me

Will I need to do work in there to clean up after you?

(Jamie considers this, mumbles something and goes back into the kitchen.)

~ Fall 2014

Ken

Can I play Lego Star Wars now? Please?

Me

No.

Ken

Why?

Me

Why do you think?

Ken

I don’t know.

Me

When you remember, come back to me.

Ken

NOOOOOOOOOO!

(Ken runs off crying)

Email: A third client is adding a new product and that needs to be uploaded.

The second client document failed preflight again. Back to the drawing board on that problem for me.

Jamie

Aoi! Stop spraying water all over the floor! Stop! Stop it! Stop! Stop!

Ken

Daddy, tell Aoi to stop spraying…

Me

I heard Jaime. Go play with your Lego.

Ken

But I want to play Lego Star Wars.

~ Fall 2014

Me

No.

Ken

Why?

Me

You know why.

Ken

No, I don’t.

Me

Then when you remember you can tell me.

Ken

(Wails)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Me

You can always go to your room, you know.

Email (from a separate client): Guy, You forgot to give me an

invoice for the storyboards (I had done some boards for a

commercial the week before). Could you really quickly write

up an invoice and send it to me?

Jamie

Aoi! Stop spraying water.

Me

Girls! Get it under control in there.

Jamie

Aoi is…

~ Fall 2014

Me

I know what Aoi is doing, Get a grip, guys; you’re the big girls here.

Jamie

Yes, Uncle Guy

Ken

Can I play…

Me

No. Go play with your Legos.

Ken

I don’t WANT to…

(He begins to wail again)

Jamie and Aoi are finally done. I approve their dismissal and

they go back upstairs. Somehow unnoticed, however, they have

picked up a shadow as Ken follows them up the stairs.

Email: The second clients’ cards passed preflight and finally printed just fine. The first

clients’ demo went awesome; they are now very excited about this program and are now on

the way to getting it under contract.

Jamie

(From upstairs)

Ken, why don’t you leave us alone and go play Lego Star Wars?

Ken

(Comes downstairs. Big, blue eyes dawning over the lip of my desk…

burrowing into my very soul)

Daddy, Jamie told me I could play Lego Star Wars…

~ Fall 2014

parents ink fall 2014 edition

Documents

chief page

sharon cathey page

little hands

little feet

old life

art photography poetry

babies poetry

little toes