Out my kitchen window, day 152

There's a lot of sadness in hospitals, and as I watch the mother wheeling her baby attached to an oxygen machine or see a child with his bald head covered in a scarf, it's tempting for me to think, "Well, at least Kieran's not (fill in the blank)." Or "I'm thankful Kieran doesn't have (fill in the blank)." As if, if he did have (fill in the blank), I wouldn't be able to bear it.

However, I don't believe this is a beneficial -- or biblical -- response to the situations I find myself in . . . for several reasons.

1. It denies the sufficiency of God's grace. God's grace is sufficient for every situation we're in--if Kieran were (fill in the blank), we would have the grace and strength to deal with it. As it is, God sheds His mercy on us every day, enabling us to deal with whatever needs to be dealt with.

2. It diminishes the value of the person who has (fill in the blank). Imagine hearing someone say, "Well, I'm thankful, at least, that my child isn't like (insert your name here)." Each person is an image-bearer of the Creator, and although that image is now marred by the curse of sin, we still retain the fingerprint of God in our lives. All of His children are precious in His sight. And we all stand before Him equally in need of His loving salvation.

3. It's not a very comforting thing to say--or think--anyway. Imagine that you're a person with (fill in the blank). How do I comfort this person? "Well, at least you're not ___." And then that person? . . . What about the last person at the bottom of the heap? How do I comfort them?

4. Proverbs 14:10 is true. Each heart knows its own bitterness. While I can sympathize, and even empathize, with someone else's pain, I can't truly know what they're going through. And thinking or saying this only serves to show that I know nothing of God's grace.

5. My response has already been determined by God: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). I don't believe this means "find something to be thankful for in all circumstances," but instead that I am, in fact, to give thanks for each circumstance because it is God's will for me. Although God isn't the cause of the trials I face (my sin in Adam began that string of happenings), He is sovereign over His creation and ordains what comes to pass. In the midst of my grief, I am to joyfully give thanks for what He has brought about: "Thank you, Lord, that Kieran has Williams Syndrome. May we use this to bring You glory and to manifest Your grace and mercy."

Do you agree? Disagree? Remain indifferent? I invite your thoughts.

Now that I'm done pontificating, I'll let you know that the doctor was pleased with the results of Kieran's echocardiogram and says we are to continue doing what we do. He wants to schedule another one in six months, but at this point, isn't overly concerned about the aortic stenosis.

Out my kitchen window, day 151

Kieran's service coordinator came today so that we can get started with the therapy sessions. She gave us a copy of the review the therapists did last week, and we set some goals for Kieran to accomplish within the next six months (Seth mandated that he be able to play football and speak in complete sentences) and chose an occupational therapist who will meet with us for an hour each week to help us accomplish those goals. We're set to begin sometime within the next few weeks.

After the coordinator left, I made some Jello. I've been under general anesthesia twice (there's a connection between this and the Jello -- trust me). Once in high school when I had my wisdom teeth taken out. (Immediately after that, I had to read Crime and Punishment for an English assignment--talk about being in pain.)

The second time was after I had Kieran yanked from my abdomen. I'd obviously had an epidural for the C-section, but after he was taken out and they were stitching me up, for some reason, I felt the need to move my legs, and I began to squirm on the operation table. Obviously not the best thing to do when a doctor has a needle in her hand. So the anesthesiologist (who was wearing a Steelers bandana in Seth's honor) put me under for about 10 minutes. When I woke up as I was being wheeled back to our room, I uttered these prophetic words, "I think I fell asleep for a bit." Seth just patted my hand.

At any rate, in his 10 (soon to be 11) short months, Kieran has also been under general anesthesia twice. And tomorrow will make the third time. He has another echocardiogram on his heart at 1 pm (to check if the aortic stenosis is progressing) and isn't allowed to eat anything (including formula) for 6 hours before the sedation. He is, however, allowed to have "clear liquids," which includes Jello, until 2 hours before he goes under. Since he doesn't like Pedialyte or broth, I thought I'd give the Jello a try and see if that keeps him satisfied. We shall see if he prefers "blue" or apricot -- or neither.

Out my kitchen window, day 150

Drum roll, please . . . .

Today marks the 150th anniversary (day) of the Out My Kitchen Window series. Thank you. Thank you all very much. I'd like to thank . . . well, me. I'd like to thank me both for the ridiculous idea of documenting the view out a Holler kitchen window and for actually following through with said ridiculous idea for the past 150 days. I'd also like to thank you (all 10 of you) who have avidly followed the exploits of a Holler-dweller for the past 150 days.

I wish I could say that 150 days was the half-way point in this little experiment of mine. But I can't. I can say that there are 206 more days of kitchen-window documenting. Who's with me?

Out my kitchen window, day 149

This was the view as Dan L and his family left after watching the Vikings win. It was also the view after we returned from visiting a nearby alpaca farm (this weekend is National Alpaca Farm Day -- or something like that).

Owning an alpaca (or two) is on my non-existent list of things to do in life. However, I put it on my list before I realized that alpacas cost money--lots of money.

So I'm afraid I may need to settle for a yearly visit to the local alpaca farm, which is just fine in Seth's book.

Date Night

What do a couple of Holler Dwellers do for Date Night? The answer is sure to surprise you.

I'd heard on the country radio station that Willie Nelson was coming to town--not to our town but to a town down the road. He was the event headliner for its Fall Festival. It didn't take much to talk Seth into going. So we lined up a babysitter -- SIL Scarlet -- and made plans to paint the town red.

For dinner, I had a hankering for a place that served cheese fries.

I was thinking more along the lines of the Aussie Cheese Fries at Outback, instead of processed cheese spread over half-baked string fries from the Hollywood Grill at the Festival.

But, when you live in a small town and near a small town, beggars can't be choosers. And the Hollywood Grill it was.

While sitting on the sidewalk and eating our romantic dinner of Philly Cheesesteaks (made with processed cheese spread dipped from a bucket sitting on the back of the grill) and cheese fries, Seth decided we should have frequented the Radio Fryer instead of Hollywood Grill, which got me to thinking, "What if we bought a tow-behind-grill and started traveling to various fairs and festivals peddling our wares?"

We could have the Holler Fryer, and . . . Seth quickly squelched any further dreams I may have had about being a roadie.

Of course, no festival experience is complete without a funnel cake.

I learned three things at the Festival last night:

1. If, 15 years from now, I still have the same haircut, please be a friend and tell me to update my hairstyle. Also, please tell me to buy updated clothes.

2. It is child abuse to carry a baby in your arms and lit cigarette in your mouth.

3. Whilst discussing Willie's age, Seth mentioned that his heyday was in the 60s and that 1960 was 50 years ago. I then realized that I was born a mere 15 years after 1960 and was therefore just 15 YEARS AWAY FROM TURNING 50! I can't believe I'm almost 50. Where has my life gone?

Oh, and Willie Nelson? That's him in the middle of the picture above. No matter how old he is, that man can still pick a guitar and carry a tune. Seth has predetermined that Kieran's musical ability will manifest itself in the form of guitar (or possibly harmonica) playing and that he will play in Willie Nelson's band, since Willie's sure to still be around 50 more years from now.

Out my kitchen window, day 148

Out my kitchen window, day 147

While it was continuing to rain outside, Kieran was inside sharing the love -- and the slobber -- with Seth when he got home this evening (apologies for the darkness of the video).

Out my kitchen window, day 146

Rain, rain, rain. And we all know what that means: a full cistern and many loads of laundry. One of my new favorite laundry friends is Oxi-Clean. I was recently chatting with a gal (my aunt says "gal" a lot--I'm not really a "gal" type of person, but I thought in this instance "gal" fit) about the best way to wash and clean Kieran's cloth diapers. For the first few months, I was just washing them in the washer. But they still had a lingering smell. And then I started bleaching them but didn't like the bleach smell on the diapers, and that I was actually using bleach on them. Enter this gal. She suggested soaking them in Oxi-Clean for a few hours and then rewashing them. So, I bought some a few weeks ago and tried it. And it has become my new favorite diaper/stain cleaner.

My only regret is that I didn't actually buy into Billy Mays' pitch on Oxi-Clean before he passed. In fact, it was only after he died and I read his obituary that I realized he was just the pitchman for the product--for whatever reason, I had assumed all along and while watching all his commercials that he was the inventor of the product. Please tell me I'm not the only person who thought this.

Out my kitchen window, day 145

The geo-thermal guy stopped by today to check on some things. He assured us (well, me, in particular, after I grilled him) that, because of the kind of unit we're getting and because it's an inside unit (rather than outside), it will provide all the heat we'll need in the winter (so we won't need a back up source and we'll be able to get rid of the propane tank). I guess we'll find out in December, when the temps dip below 30.

Judi and Georgia -- I may be knocking on your doors sometime in the next few months when it's icy cold outside . . . .

Out my kitchen window, day 144

The therapists came today to evaluate Kieran--one was an oocupational therapist and the other was a developmental therapist. They spent a little over an hour watching and playing with him, scribbling notes and asking questions about him. They said that by virtue of his WS diagnosis, he was automatically eligible for the First Steps program, which I was happy to hear. Overall, they said that he's doing well. The only delays they saw were in his fine motor and verbal skills. And on those counts, they said the delays weren't because he wasn't capable of developing those areas, but just that he hadn't yet developed those areas. The next step is to meet with a coordinator, formulate a plan, and choose the therapists and therapies we want.

In chicken news, the chickens are laying again. This progress may have had something to do with the pep-talk Seth gave them last night, which included the words "hatchet," "soup," and "pot pie."

Out my kitchen window, day 143

Growing up, we were involved in Good News Clubs on Wednesday evenings at church and also in Released Time at school. We learned lots about the Bible and lots of Bible verses in these programs. In our current area, Good News Clubs are active in the local schools, and I've wanted to get involved with them for awhile. The GNC coordinator of our county attends the church we've been attending lately, so I've been networking with her about helping out. Tonight was a training session for several aspects of the clubs. They begin the first week in October. We'll see how it goes.

Out my kitchen window, day 142

We haven't had a good rain for several weeks, so we had to again order another load of water for the cistern yesterday. And then last night it rained. And the rain continues today. Figures.

On the Kieran front, he's finally beginning to crawl. He's been rocking on his hands and knees for months, and is now starting to get the idea that if he moves his hands, he can move his body to other places in the room. The physical therapists come on Tuesday to evaluate him, so we'll see where he stacks up against others of his age.

Out my kitchen window, day 141

Can you see it? The leaves are starting to fall off the trees already. The days aren't as warm as they have been and the nights are much cooler. Fall is definitely in the air, and I love it!

Out my kitchen window, day 140

This was the view as the Propane Man left the Holler. He had come to do a "summer top off" of our tank; however, I was slightly pleased to tell him we didn't need his services as we are getting a geo-thermal system installed which will obviate the need for propane. We will be harnassing the earth's natural warming and cooling power insteand of burning up the expensive fossil fuel he was hauling. He didn't really seem too phased by my pronouncement.

On another note, it encourages my little Holler heart to know that you organize your gift bags, as well--it's nice to know I'm not the only dork in the crowd.
 
On still another note, yes, the neighbor who watched my chickens is the neighbor whose child . . . well, you know. The same neighbor whose parents raised chickens when he was young. The same neighbor who shared with us the time his father called him over, "Son, c'mon over here. I'm gonna show you how to kill a chicken," and then proceeded to whack the head off a chicken. But I'm not blaming him for the lack of eggs in the Eglu. I'm blaming my chickens.

Out my kitchen window, day 139

This was the view when I took this picture. (BAM! Why didn't I think of that one before?!)

Out my kitchen window, day 138

Kieran and I went for another walk down the lane this morning. And I decided to take a kitchen-window picture from the opposite direction -- outside the house looking toward the window. The kitchen window is the small one in the middle.

And the view that you usually see comes from the top half of the window. I'm thinking about painting the shutters -- maybe a nice, bright purple. Seth is not keen on this idea.

Regarding the chickens. Something seems to have happened to them while I was away. They seem to have stopped laying. I'm not sure if they just missed me terribly or if the shorter day-lengths are causing their egg-strike, but they haven't give me any eggs since I've been back. And the neighbor, who looked after them while I was away, told me he only got 5 eggs from them, instead of the 8 he should have gotten. So, for now, the Egg Counter will need to stay at 87--sorry, Jude.

Out my kitchen window, day 137

This was the view when Kieran and I arrived home after a day out and about. He spent the morning with his birthday buddy Kate (Kate and Kieran were due the same day; Kate actually came on her own, while Kieran held out for the C-section 5 days later), Kate's mom, and Kate's brother while I was getting some work done. He had a blast, and he thinks Kate is a cutie (I do, too).

Then it was off to Children's Hospital to get his kidneys checked out again ( a follow-up from our previous visit with the urologist after his UTIs), and they appear to be fine.

And then we arrived home to find this parcel waiting for us on the doorstep. It contains mounds of flower bulbs which I apparently ordered last spring. And apparently the time is now ripe for planting bulbs. What in the world was I thinking when I ordered bunches of daffodils, moutain bells, irises, snowdrops, and giant crocuses? Did I really think they would plant themselves?

Out my kitchen window, days 135-136

This was the view late last evening when Kieran and arrived home. The flight itself was uneventful, although Kieran was not. He was relatively quiet the entire time (again, refusing to nap as I had hoped he would). Instead, he decided to have an explosive diaper--one which got on my skirt and his onesie. And he decided to have it at the moment the beverage cart was going by, blocking the aisle to the lavatory.

So there we sat, waiting, waiting, waiting. The lady across the aisle from me just happened to have a 15-month-old and so just happened to have some baby wipes, which she shoved at me. I used them to clean us both up as best I could and then finally tried to make our way back to the bathroom, which, as I found out, is not very baby-friendly. Let's just say that changing a 10-month-old on top of a closed toilet seat is not the easiest thing to do. I may need to write to the airlines and suggest they install a baby-changing station in every airplane. Mothers everywhere would thank me, I'm sure.

We finally arrived home (after Marcia graciously picked us up from the airport) and met Seth, who had been on his own adventure while we were gone. The reason we went to Florida was because The Men of Seth's family (his 2 brothers and 2 BILs) were on a Boys Weekend Out in West Virginia -- white water rafting, mountain biking, wood chopping, cabin sleeping, bee stinging -- the works. And I refused to be left alone with Kieran for 4 days. So off I went while off Seth went. And we met up again in the Holler.

This was the view this afternoon when I was reminded of my dorkiness. I was putting together a gift basket for a friend's bridal shower and needed some tissue paper to dress it up. So I pulled out my Gift Bag Box.

I recently purchased a plastic tote box in which to store all the gift bags I've been given which I reuse in giving my own gifts (don't act so shocked--you do it, too). I actually organized the gift bags according to size and then according to occasion--wedding, baby, birthday, Christmas . . . .

And then I organized all the tissue paper that came with those gift bags according to color. If that doesn't scream "dork" I don't know what does.

Out another window, day 134

This was the view from the train window after we finished a little 2-hour train ride this morning -- in the rain.

Granddad enjoyed showing Kieran the view from the train and around the train yard.

Political thought for the day

A friend has recently started expressing her views on the our government's antics by illustrating political cartoons. I think she's done a great job pithily capturing the sentiments of so many.

Out someone else's kitchen window, day 133

It's not always sunny in Florida. Today we had a bit of a rain shower, but the nice thing about Florida is that the rest of the day was wonderfully full of sunshine.

Kieran enjoyed spending time with his Granddad, who showed him his G-scale train.

Not out my kitchen window, day 132

Yesterday, Kieran went on his first plane ride. Other than not napping during it like he was supposed to, he did quite well--no screaming or crying qualifies as "quite well" in my book.

Since we're not in The Holler, I'm not able to tell you about Holler life today. Instead, I'll give you some glimpses into the views my parents experience every day.

After all, Kieran and I are visiting them in Florida.

These are the view from their kitchen window.

Not too shabby, eh?

Photos of Kieran

We had Kieran's picture taken a few weeks ago (he was about 9 months). These are low-res copies of the ones we ordered. Enjoy.

Out my kitchen window, day 131

This was the view when Kieran and I packed our bags and headed out the door to . . . .