tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37583350394856226852024-02-20T14:44:57.690-06:00Three SyllablesKeithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.comBlogger491125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-82208880146880379312020-01-09T07:35:00.016-06:002022-11-19T12:00:05.227-06:00Happy New Year, Happy New Decade, Happy New Life!Just before Christmas someone asked me, "What are you most looking forward to in 2020?" Without missing a beat I replied, "Saying good-bye to 2019."<br />
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Some good-byes are heart-wrenching and agonizingly painful. Some are healing and cathartic. There should be different words for the different layers of good-bye. On second thought, I guess there are. I should have said, "Saying good riddance to 2019."<br />
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But that's not even quite right. Good things happened in 2019. Many good things happened in 2019. I filled a personalized calendar for 2020 with hundreds of those fantastic memories, and I will enjoy reliving every one of them as the pages of the year turn.<br />
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But 2019 is attached to three words that weigh it down with a ferocity that prevents the buoyancy of those good memories from claiming the year as their own. Meniscus. Cancer. Pedophilia.<br />
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The meniscus might not seem in good company with two powerhouse words like Cancer and Pedophilia; but, oddly enough, its diagnosis unleashed some of the year's most powerful sobs...of joy!.? Since college, my left knee has periodically reminded me that basketball exacts a price. In the 2010s, it began screaming at me that falling on ice exacts a higher price. And in 2019, it went on strike and made its case known 24-hours a day, refusing to fully bend or straighten, or walk down stairs or inclines, shrieking its displeasure with the persistence of a toddler. It's not like it had been ignored. It was pampered with multiple physical therapists, an orthopedic surgeon, an MRI, and more therapy, ten years of it. Everyone, except the MRI, saying meniscus. Come to find out, the MRI in 2012 had agreed with those experts but someone reading it did not. So, I sat in my vehicle sobbing last Tuesday as the words "torn meniscus" confirmed that I wasn't crazy and gave me hope that there could be an end to the pain and immobility. Even so, it was pain I had resigned myself to bear and live with. In 2020, I have hope that I may not have to.<br />
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Cancer was a bigger, bully of a word. I expected it to envelope my world and shut me off from my normalcy, ushering me into an unrecognizable and dark hall of gloom. But that's not what cancer did to me. Instead, it took me into a world of the Zootopia sloths. Everything moved in slow motion. A lump on my neck in early May, an ultrasound in late May, a biopsy in late June, an all-clear diagnosis in early July, a wait-a-minute-something-looks-fishy addendum in late July, all the while hearing "you can just wait and repeat the test in 6 months". I was the rabbit pushing for each next step as the cancer world moved in slow motion imperceivably turning the pages of the daily calendar. Surgery to remove half of my thyroid in late August. Finally, the word cancer in September. Oh, and by the way, it was angio-invasive (entered the blood stream), but just a little bit. It sounded like, "we dropped some cow manure in your scrambled eggs, but just a little bit." New doctor, new city, cancer specialists, another surgery, hormone replacements, tired, tired, tired. The slow motion and the time dragging and the tired and the recovery were the trials. The Cancer felt safe, it was in God's hands. The suffering came from all of the other side effects. But, those effects promise to subside, and the cancer numbers, which are in check, will be something we slothfully monitor for the rest of my days. My "follicular, angio-invasive thyroid cancer" is something I can bear and am resigned to live with. 2020 gives me hope for complete eradication of the hints of straggling cells.<br />
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But then, as the year drew to a close, Pedophilia reared its most ugly head. I was introduced to this beast at the too-young age of 10, brought to me by one to whom I owed my very existence and who should have been protecting me from the very thing with which he tormented me. 1972 was a decade or so short of public awareness and stranger-danger education. Mine was no stranger, only danger. My prepubescent mind did what it could to sort out the confusion by compartmentalizing it in the "well, that part of childhood really stinks" and moved on. By the time I understood that was the wrong compartment, the danger was past and my silence seemed to be all that remained. Tragically, the danger wasn't past. Thankfully, braver-and-more-informed-than-me, young souls found their voices, spoke up, and pointed fingers. He served his first sentence in 1987. Thirty-three years later our family history is littered with lies, incarcerations, divorce, broken promises, deceptions, years of intentional separation, accusations, greed, and pain, As it is prone to do, history repeated itself, playing the worn out tune of destruction, more of the same. But something seemed different. We thought a corner had been turned and remorse seemed real as his 70th birthday was spent behind bars. We thought it truly was a catalyst to a new beginning. Wishful thinking? We began to build new memories and attempted to find some right in the wreckage of all the wrong. It felt like we were moving, creeping sometimes, in the right direction. And then it was Christmastime, 2019. Christmas shouldn't be spent hoping your father's cancer diagnosis is bad enough to give him a very short life expectancy because the pain of more hurt to another child (NOTE--no relation to us) just feels like too much to bear. But that's what the last days of 2019 held for us, my three siblings and me, more of the same. More of the dreaded, unrelenting same. For me, however, this time, finally, there was a difference. Unknowingly, there had been a power he held over me that kept me silent on certain levels. It's not that I didn't talk about it, I did. I faced it, I moved on from it. I even forgave it. But, calling the police to report the Pedophile felt like I was finally exercising power over the perpetrator, over the evil monster of criminality against innocence. I was finally doing what was right to protect others from his narcissistic cruelty. That phone call changed me. It wasn't vindictive or vengeful. It was responsible. Pedophilia is something I can not bear and I refuse to live with it. This is worth fighting against. 2020 brings hope that he is stopped and that our story empowers someone else to use their voice to stop an injustice.<br />
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So, good riddance to those parts of the last year and decade. I'm glad to have it in my rear-view mirror. But thanks be to the God of heaven and earth who has promised me that those trials will indeed become fertilizer for my soul. Dung has it uses, not in our eggs, but given time, it will decompose and bring nourishment and strength to living things, to MY life. I'm already experiencing the upside of some of the downsides and look forward to more life coming from the dung. I hope in the Lord of Hope who has suffered all things that he might comfort me. 2020 gives me hope that His work is not done and that, even out of the dung, He can bring New Life!<br />
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Happy New Year!!Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-35539030052290537632018-07-30T23:55:00.001-05:002018-07-30T23:55:49.581-05:00Uganda 2018So, why did we go to Norway AND Uganda this summer? It's a fair question, especially when you understand that a year ago a trip to Uganda wasn't anywhere close to being on our radar. A trip to Norway? Yes, that trip was set into motion in May 2017 while Christoffer was visiting us. It seemed like a good time in the lives of our three children at home and it also worked with his family. We only had to set the dates and duration.<br />
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Then in September, a family visited our church and Keith took them for an all day boat ride while Lisa and I were at a ladies camp retreat. The boating conversation turned to missions and Keith was introduced to New Hope Uganda, a place his newfound friend had visited three times. That's a pretty serious commitment. The information was intriguing, orphan care with children living in family groups instead of dormitories, bringing the fatherhood of God to the fatherless. We wanted to learn more. Fast forward 10 weeks and Keith had communicated with the ministry via email, in person, and we had become sponsors. We were able to have a personal connection with the students and family parents, exchanging letters and receiving school reports. After Keith's in person meeting they finally answered his relentless flow of questions with, "You just have to come and see it for yourself." It made sense to Keith to combine it with the trip to Norway to cut out one of the legs of travel and to minimize the jet lag (Norway and Uganda are only an hour different).<br />
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So, here I am with a video slide production on our unexpected trip to Uganda. The contrasts between the two countries could hardly have been more stark. Uganda--land locked, impoverished, and still struggling to rise up from a Civil War, the brutal devastation of the Joseph Kony era, and the ravages of the AIDs epidemic. We didn't have to look hard to see evidence of the hopelessness that inevitably comes from any one of those situations, let alone all three in the last 4 decades. Norway--mountainous, seafaring, and people living in what sociologists call one of the happiest, wealthiest, most stable countries in the world. We enjoyed the irony of the weather however, travelling all the way from Wisconsin (N 46 degree latitude) and Norway (we were as far north as 63 degrees latitude) to the equator to cool off! The temperatures in Uganda were milder, day and night.<br />
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We began our Uganda trip in Kobwin, a new location that invites a peek at what the original work at Kasana (near Kiwoko) looked like in its infancy 30 years ago. Kobwin has one family group, Kasana has 7. Kobwin has a primary school, a one room guesthouse, and a one room medical clinic. Kasana has a primary and secondary school, a clinic building, an institute for gospel training (all staff attend the 20 weeks course that focuses heavily on personal spiritual understand and cross cultural ministry; but it's also open to others), a pastor training institute, and guest housing that held over 40 for a few of the days we were there (different teams overlapped one another and stayed for varying lengths of time). We had the opportunity to tour all of these places as well as the local hospital and the New Hope run radio station.<br />
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We loved seeing how caring for the children did not end at food, clothing, and shelter, or at education. The goal is to mentor them as any father does his child, to lead them and guide them in the paths of the Lord as they press on with life. We met staff members who grew up as "sons and daughters" and are now committed to giving back in the same way they received so much. We met a child who is adopted into a family, but started life in a public latrine, dumped there with the umbilical cord still attached. Now this child is treasured. Not all of the children served at New Hope live in the family homes. If a child has a safe place with a family member but needs assistance they are brought in for school and access to medical care. The pastoral staff visits the family in the village and seeks to care for the child where they are, which includes loving their family (whether it is a single mom, grandparents, or aunt or uncle).<br />
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I begin the video with text explanations, but once again the text operation quit working and would not let me add text. Some things and people you will see without explanation are Murchison Falls, Mulu and Lucy (house parents who came with us on the safari--it was their first trip away for three days in their 13 years of marriage and they care for 23 children), Junior (a boy who advanced from the special needs program to the regular classroom), hanging bird nests, a Civil War memorial where skulls that were once piled on the roadsides are buried, tomato harvesting, the Secondary school chemistry lab and kitchen, Lucy's Ugandan meals she made for us, and our final airport stop and customs photos.<br />
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What I did not get many photos of (except for the group picture with Keith) were the staff members. We spent hours and hours with the Ugandan staff as well as the foreign missionaries from the US and the UK. We were welcomed by generous, caring, people who love the Lord, love children, and serve with very full hearts. We were so busy enjoying their company that we just didn't think to take pictures! Thank you to the McFarlands, the Sinklers, the Dendys, the Brittons, the Mulus, Susan, Brenda, Joanna, Tony, Fred, Simon, and more I'm sure. Lastly, thank you to Uncle Jonnes and Auntie Gertude Bakimi (I copied a photo from FB) who are co-founders along with Jay and Vicki Dangers (who we missed by 2 days). We are enjoying spreading the good news about what God is doing at New Hope!<br />
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<br />Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-3191051393625377922018-07-30T12:25:00.002-05:002018-07-30T23:04:03.775-05:00Norway 2018<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
We had an amazing opportunity to spend two weeks in the beautiful country of Norway visiting our Norwegian son/exchange student, Christoffer, and his wonderful family. They were our most gracious hosts for meals, travels, hikes, and a truly memory-making experience. We started in their home town of Rakkestad and drove as far north as Rongay on the coast, down through and around the fjords to Bergen, back through Oslo and home again.</div>
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Our entourage of nine also spent several days with my third-cousin Tove, her husband Jon, and son Henrick at their cabin. They took all of us in and treated us like family, which some of us are, albeit exceedingly distantly related (Tove and I share great-great grandparents Fingal and Berte Halvorsen, both born in the early half of the 19th Century). Tove and I hadn't even seen one another in 45 years. We hope to return the favor and get their family to the US sometime soon! We were also blessed by cousin Sonja (Tove's sister, who I also had not seen in 45 years) who had all 12 of us over for dinner at her beautiful farmhouse near Stryn! I don't know if all Norwegians are known for their wonderful hospitality but we were certainly treated to it everywhere we went.</div>
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I put together a photo show to sum up this amazing trip to the Land of the Midnight Sun (seriously, the sunset took place around midnight and before the pink could fade from the northwest sky it shifted slightly east and became the sunrise. Incredible!<br />
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My text option gave out early in the process so you kind of have to figure it out yourself.<br />
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Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-60736499524764228312017-10-12T12:57:00.000-05:002017-10-12T13:08:15.504-05:00Ken and Nancy's 60th Anniversary60 Years<br />
6 Children<br />
36 Grandchildren<br />
34 Great Grandchildren<br />
30 Weddings<br />
76 Births<br />
0 Funerals<br />
These are but the cold logistics. The beauty of the life is in the faces and smiles and the hearts and memories.<br />
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This is the life.<br />
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Children playing on the floor</div>
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Neil</div>
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Kent</div>
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Karissa (Ellen's daughter) and Lauren</div>
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Marty</div>
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Keith and Nicole, Joey with Carson and Cameron</div>
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Lisa and Ellen</div>
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Brett and Ryan</div>
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If anyone doubted the heartfelt appreciation and sincere feeling of unworthiness for the outpouring of love expressed to Grandma, you needed only to look at her teary eyes throughout the entire evening. She was overwhelmed.<br />
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Grandma and Papa</div>
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The "older generation"</div>
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Renee (Ellen's daughter)</div>
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Opening the book, created by all of the children and grandchildren with their well wishes</div>
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Ed and Robin Foster (and Nehemiah) in the foreground with Dana, David, and Claire in the background.</div>
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Keira (Joey's daughter) with Elizabeth (the Fosters granddaughter)</div>
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Would this be a true family gathering without a football? Shane and Owen got away with it for as long as they could....or until Grandma caught on.<br />
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The youngest grandsons, Gabe and Zach, with Benjamin (Ellen's son)</div>
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Dana and David</div>
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Kelly's family (minus Marty and Mark)</div>
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The original family: Kenny, Kyle, Kevin, Keith, Kelly, and Kennan</div>
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With spouses: Cindy, Jodi, Pat, Cindy, and Marty (missing Katie)</div>
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Ken and Nancy/Daddy and Mama/Papa and Grandma with almost all of the guests who attended the reception.</div>
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<br />Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-33899237666915509102017-06-01T14:04:00.000-05:002017-06-01T15:58:56.921-05:00Bryce and Audrey's Video Montage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i9.ytimg.com/vi/-GIQacnE3Q8/default.jpg?sqp=CLDIwckF&rs=AOn4CLAwFLAIRK1dk3GEtYWITPisSimLjw" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-GIQacnE3Q8?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
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I love that couples do these videos I love the story they tell of their individual lives and families blending into their new life and family together.<br />
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I don't love that it makes me cry, but it does. Every time.Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-70260724911632920652017-01-24T12:52:00.000-06:002017-01-26T14:25:12.439-06:00To My Young Adults, thanks for growing up and moving onI just read a surprising statistic this morning: according to a Trulia analysis 40% of Americans ages 18 to 34 were living with their parents, siblings, or other relative in 2015.<br />
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I am left speechless by this percentage, yet I'm also left with SO many thoughts swirling around this reality. I choose not to voice most of them, but to consider--gratefully, thankfully, and proudly--the absence of my eight children in that range from the 40%. (I need to post this soon, because in a few months I'll have one in that range, 18 but with a year of high school to go.)<br />
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The upper reaches of the 18 to 34 would be the most likely to have gained independence and you five 26-32 year-olds are all caring for families and, as anyone would hope and expect, self-supporting. But you next three, you're the "in between" age range. You're not kids, not parents, not homeowners and maybe not a lot of things--maybe not married, maybe not out of school, and maybe not settled in a career or even your part of the world yet. You three are voted "most likely to be adults still living at home". But you're not.<br />
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I had two fabulous weekends to remind me how wonderful and very rewarding it is to see your kids turn into grown ups.<br />
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The first weekend was with Shane and Claire, (enjoying a girls weekend away with Lisa) and being the recipients of their warm hospitality. They're juggling a lot--marriage, school, sports, a home, pursuits of medical school, and hosting family with relaxed smiles. They make their share of sacrifices (imagine Shane's 6'7" frame on a moped in all kinds of weather) but they're working hard, and taking responsibility, and they're shining!<br />
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We were able to watch a couple of basketball games, too. College basketball hasn't ended up being all that Shane had hoped it would be, on a number of levels. Disappointment is hard to take, but it's even harder to watch when it's served to your kids. The pride, though, in seeing him handle it well, turn it into a positive experience, and grow from that experience has been tremendous. Even so, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see him flourish in a hard fought win over the number one team in their conference. Shane played a big role in defending the inside game against two opponents that Lisa and I nicknamed Thing One and Thing Two. It was a joy to see his huge smile and watch him really enjoy the game he's loved for so long.<br />
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The next weekend event was a surprise trip with Keith to Georgia to celebrate Troy's birthday. It was our first trip to his new home in the southeast and, after he got past the utter shock of his Mom standing at his front door (accomplice Bryce had set up the ruse) he showed us around. He's made a marvelously practical choice for his living space and needed to give no typical bachelor apologies as he showed us around (OK, maybe one apology). I love to watch the unfolding of adulthood and see the results of dreams, plans, and trial and error all come together. Troy's confidence knows no bounds!</div>
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The surprise continued when Bryce schemed with the restaurant host to take the place of our wait staff and deliver Troy's dessert. Troy was in disbelief as an inappropriately friendly "waiter" leaned from behind him over his shoulder with the dessert and announced, in a heavy accent, "Hello my name is Fronk and I have come to serve you the double chococate...." His laughter was genuine, but it wasn't until Bryce started making up words that he turned around and took a good look at this weird waiter. There's almost nothing better for a mom than seeing her sons genuinely euphoric to see one another.</div>
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Bryce, still a teenager, and absolutely the most likely to be living off his parents had made the four-hour drive from his home in another state where he has settled and is making his own way, figuring out his own life, and planning to share it with his bride in a few months. He doesn't have things all figured out, but is ambitiously learning where he fits and how to make changes to get where he wants to go. His trust in God is paramount and the joy of Christ pours from him into the lives of all he touches.</div>
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We experienced the combined energy and creativity of these men for an exhausting 24 hours. We laughed at their antics (following their car), relaxed and played (or watched) games, and got to turn a blind eye as they ran over flower garden chasing a football into prized landscaping at the botanical garden (not our "kids", not our problem!").</div>
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Three boys, three states, three states of life, on different paths, but all doing it on their own. I'm thankful I only have to imagine what it would be like to be the parent of the 40%.</div>
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I love you!</div>
Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-8549553857973997872017-01-09T09:12:00.001-06:002017-01-09T09:12:39.845-06:00Can't We Just Have a Quiet Basketball Season?Just when I think the dust has settled on the 2015-16 basketball season and we can look forward to a typical basketball season we have a whole new set of events going on. The news so far this year have been Shane getting his front tooth knocked out while playing the Minnesota Gophers; Owen's knee surgery and missing the first month of basketball; and the pertussis outbreak at the high school that cancelled all games and practices for Owen and Lisa for a solid 16 days.<br />
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Can we just settle down for some nice, quiet basketball already?</div>
Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-62160866646252504402016-03-11T09:17:00.001-06:002016-03-11T09:41:18.882-06:00My Favorite Sports Story EverIn light of the negative attention that last week's basketball game received, and in honor of Gabe turning 10-years-old this week, I thought I would relive this great memory from football season 2014.<br />
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I am not so naive as to think that this is how athletic competitions should end all the time, that it never matters if you win or lose, and that we just need to make everyone feel good. But I sure am glad that this select group of people on this one particular day came together to make Gabe's day, and in the process, left smiles on the faces of millions of people around the world. The video shows Gabe (a then 8-year-old, being guided by his older brother, Owen (who was also on the court during the stall game last week) and then chased down by a great group of opposing players (from Mosinee) who just make this the best high school touchdown ever.<br />
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Happy Birthday Gabe!!<br />
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(I wish I could get the NFL video with commentator breakdown to show up as a full video, but I can't, so here is the link to their piece:<br />
http://www.nfl.com/videos/nfl-videos/0ap3000000415609/8-year-old-scores-inspirational-touchdown)<br />
<br />
Or, you can see the original footage here:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KdvErwdyG6g" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<br />Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-85830485153222328202016-03-05T11:44:00.000-06:002016-03-11T09:18:13.642-06:00Basketball or "Stall Ball"?<div class="MsoNormal">
March 5, 2016</div>
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To: Wisconsin State
Basketball Coaches and the WIAA</div>
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Re: Basketball or “Stall
Ball”?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Dear Coaches and Board Members,</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat through a painful 36-minute “stall ball” game last
night. Even before the end of the
blisteringly boring excuse for a game (and while we led by 4 points) I was
drafting this letter in my head. The
nauseated feeling that began in the first five minutes of play never went
away. For me, this isn’t about winning
and losing. For the coaches, apparently,
that is all it is about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for basketball, I am not new to the game. I played high school basketball in MN, played
on a European women’s team while I was an exchange student, and played one year
of division 2 college basketball before transferring to a division 1 school
where I knew I could not (and did not care to try to) compete. I stayed involved in athletics by officiating
intramural games; and I married an athlete who played high school football,
basketball, and baseball and has officiated at upper levels of competition. We have eleven children; and, our ninth child
and seventh son is a now high school athlete.
I have been watching my kids play baseball, soccer, softball, football,
and basketball for twenty-two years. Besides
all of the regular season games, I’ve watched them play in all-star games, AAU
games, state east-west games,a MN-WI border battle, state tournaments, college
football games, and college basketball games.
I estimate that I have sat through at least 1600 games.</div>
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In twenty-two years and 1600+ games I have seen only <b>ONE</b> team end the season with a
win. Only <b>ONE </b>team made it to the final championship game and took home the
trophy. That’s only one in almost 200
teams’ seasons, less than 0.5% success. Learn
a lesson coaches, it isn’t just about winning.
If it is, you are a collective group of ultimate failures. </div>
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I haven’t encouraged my kids to play sports so they can “win”. I’ve encouraged them to play because they
enjoy it and to learn very valuable life lessons. I believe kids should walk away from an
athletic experience knowing more about hard work, cooperation, teamwork,
handling pressure, submitting to leadership, letting others down, and knowing
how to deal with those who’ve let them down.
I believe they should learn the benefits of dedication, giving it
everything they have, improving their work ethic, and doing all they can as a
team to do to those things together. I
believe these lessons take them into job situations, marriages, families, and
community positions better equipped to be leaders. </div>
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I want my kids to be leaders, <u>but not without integrity</u>. Leadership without integrity is what most
people call “politics”. What we all
despise about “politics” is the blatant maneuvering to position oneself for
personal gain and victory. We link it
with a lack of integrity.</div>
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</div>
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That’s what I feel is happening with high school basketball. We were witness to this kind of basketball three times this season. Sitting and watching a team hold the ball for
7 straight minutes is not a game. Watching
a team dribble in circles and pass for minutes on end, waiting to draw a foul,
is frustratingly pointless for players and fans alike. But the fact that it’s frustrating for the
fans is not a reason to change strategies.
Three real reasons to stop engaging in the “stall ball” stategy are: 1) it violates the integrity of the game, 2) it undermines real sportmanship, and 3) the reason for competing in a team sport in
the first place is seriously violated by such behavior. This kind of basketball is the making of a
sports blooper segment, not an athletic event.</div>
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Coaches, when it comes to your “stall ball”, even the
players hate it. They want to play. They joined the team because they like to
play. I hear first hand what is said by
our team’s players <u>and</u> by the opposition. They hate it.
We’ve taught them too well to respect authority and do what you tell
them to do. They do it because you make
them do it; but, THEY HATE IT. Ask them,
I’m sure you’ll find that the vast majority don’t mind losing as much as they mind <b>not
playing</b>. </div>
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<br /></div>
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As a parent, one of the most frustrating things I’ve had to
do is create what seem like obvious rules.
(I’m guessing that the WIAA committees feel the same way.) I wrongly thought
that basic, overriding principles of life would be enough to direct my
children. Then they got old enough to
bend the rules, push the boundaries, and come to me saying, “But you didn’t say
not to…” And so the need for specific
rules and precise language arose. I
would prefer that my kids exercise personal discretion and integrity to do what
is right. As much as possible, I still
challenge them to make mature and honest choices without a defined list of
rules. When it comes to basketball we’ve
had sons share with us how, in games, they tried to ‘get into players heads’ to
mess them up, “accidentally” tap a ball away before inbounding to take time off
the clock, or quietly taunt someone to anger them and get them to retaliate and
foul. We have heartily denounced those behaviors. Whether they’re legal or just something they
can get away with doesn’t matter, it’s bad sportsmanship and lacks integrity.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We want this generation to grow up and make society better,
not more self-serving. While “stall ball”
is within the rules of Wisconsin high school basketball, everyone who has had
to pay $4, maybe drive 1-2 hours (or more) and then sit through what doesn’t
even resemble the game that drives the kids to want to play in the first place,
knows first hand that the integrity of the game, and high school athletcs, has
been violated. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s true, “No one said you can’t do that.” But they should.
<strike>Shame on all of you. </strike> (After some consideration, I feel that this was in inappropriate comment. I apologize.)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sincerely,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cindy White<br />
<br />
Added Note:<br />
Please understand, this is not simply about one game, one team, or one coach. I wrote most of this letter a month ago following another frustrating stall ball game. I wish we had stalled and lost so that you would know this is not sour grapes!<br />
<br />
Here is an excerpt from a comment that may help express the purpose of this letter:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">The debate about this is not new, a shot clock was first implemented in professional basketball in 1954 and the NCAA came on board in the mid 1980s. Everyone understands that 36 minutes of stalling is not basketball. The high schools have been reluctant to go to the shot clock because of the costs, training, and management and because it could potentially hurt younger players who need more time to implement the basic fundamentals of the game. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">The National Federation of High School Association, on its website states, "Currently, Massachusetts, Maryland, Rhode Island, Washington, New York, California, North Dakota and South Dakota utilize the shot clock for either boys or girls or both. Since there currently is no allowance for a shot clock under NFHS rules, these states forfeit opportunity for service on the Basketball Rules Committee."</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">Unless the NFHS changes the rules, I believe its time for Wisconsin to join those eight states and use the shot clock. You can have your 1980s basketball. I"m ready to move forward.</span></div>
Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-77433620925885008252015-10-30T12:35:00.000-05:002016-03-01T15:50:42.141-06:00Time Vacuum--The Next GenerationAs a follow-up to the <a href="http://threesyllables.blogspot.com/2015/10/time-vacuum.html">Time Vacuum</a> post, I am posting the video of the sons performing in their fathers' footsteps. I think perhaps Chet inherited Uncle Kyle's dance moves. This video was taken in 1998 at Camp Nicolet, having moved from Camp Algonquin where the original version was performed. <br />
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From left to right--Jared, Kip, Keith, Marty, Chet, Kaleb, and Joey (sons of Kyle, Kenny, Keith, and Marty)<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iqhL0dL0iYM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-37487705943276242692015-10-29T14:52:00.002-05:002015-10-29T14:54:38.434-05:00Time VacuumShane asked me to send him a clip of a video that we have on VHS. It's TWENTY years old. My four youngest children were not even born when this video was made! <br />
<br />
It has been a favorite among all of them. A few of them remember seeing it performed live, the rest of them enjoy seeing the tape every once in awhile. That is how Shane remembers it, on tape. He was only 8 months old when it was made, yet he wanted me to send it to him so that Claire could see it, too. <br />
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Finding the clip on the tape was quite a throw-back in time. As I ran through it I saw my older children twenty years younger, I saw the self that is now me two decades past. It was definitely old school. Yet, I was impressed to see how little my husband has changed. With the exception of his hair style he looks just the same! (I feel kind of bad for him that the same is not true for me.)<br />
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This clip is a children's song written by Wisconsin artist Ken Lonnquist called Time Vacuum. It is sung by the five White brothers and their brother-in-law, my children's father and uncles. Some years later a group of the cousins of the next generation performed the song for another camp talent show. I'll have to look for that one!<br />
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Here they are, stuck in their own time vacuum of sorts.<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OxGOZE1M7II" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-17591793514054221192015-08-12T07:36:00.001-05:002015-08-12T07:53:49.203-05:00Shane and Claire's Wedding Video<br />
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The wedding description is in the previous post. Maria, a daughter of the cake maker, accepted my request to run the camera for me. Claire was happy to just have it run and capture the ceremony, but Maria turned and zoomed when appropriate and separated the video into four parts so that the camera wouldn't do it's own auto-save and lose parts of the video. I just didn't want the song in part 3 to be broken up.<br />
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Part 1 highlights Dana's beautiful piano playing skills! But, all you will see are the family and wedding party entering.<br />
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In Part 2 Claire's music starts at the 1:00 minute mark and she doesn't come up the aisle until about 1 minute and a half later. The ceremony begins at the 4:00 minute mark.<br />
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Part 3 is the entire song (minus the last word) of Chet singing "I Will Be Here" with the lighting of the unity candle, signing of the license, and a surprise to the parents.<br />
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Part 4, the final word of the song, the tearful vows, the rings, the kiss.<br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/erZcFuwMMIA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tw2D_oqBe20" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-88030861429216522732015-08-10T10:06:00.001-05:002015-08-10T19:59:34.729-05:00Shane and Claire's WeddingShane is our sixth child to get married. While some think we're "old pros" at this it just never gets easier to see a child married. I think that's because children in a family aren't simply a single mass that slowly decreases with time. They may look like it in photographs or in the minds of those outside the family. But within the family and definitely in the hearts of the parents each child is a special unique person with their own place. And that heart is just as full with one or two children as it is with three or more. The heart doesn't divide the love but increases to be able to hold more. There are certainly a few things that are easier today than in 2007 when Joey was married. We know what to expect and the emotion isn't coupled with doubt and wondering. But the feelings run just as strong now as they did eight years ago.<br />
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Shane and Claire were the proverbial "high school sweethearts". I first heard her name when Shane told me there was a girl at school that his friends said looked enough like him that she could be his sister. Her name was Claire Tracy. And he found reasons to mention that name a lot and make casual comments about her periodically. The thing was, Shane never made casual comments. When he talked about anything it was because he was thinking very purposely about that thing. I knew there was more to Claire than just looking like him (which, by the way, I have never seen). And there was. By the end of their sophomore year Shane had only three things on his mind--basketball, schoolwork, and Claire, and not necessarily in that order.<br />
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Every groomsman reiterated that "Shane really likes Claire". They didn't plan together to all say that and they didn't just pick it up from one another. They all thought it, meant it, and said it. It bears repeating because Shane really does like Claire! So, it was no surprise to us when they chose to marry and move down the less traveled road of finishing college as a married couple.<br />
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Here are some memories from their wedding.<br />
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The rehearsal<br />
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It's nice to have talented siblings. Dana did a beautiful job playing the piano for the prelude, processionals, special music, and recessional. Chet helped Dana figure out how to shorten Canon in D during the rehearsal and then stretch it during the ceremony when, after playing three pages of music the bride was still not coming up the aisle! He also sang a solo during the wedding.<br />
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Keira and Carson, Shane's oldest niece and nephew, were thrilled to be chosen to be the flower girl and ring bearer. They weren't so thrilled with rehearsing.<br />
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August 8, 2015, The Wedding Day<br />
A final hug from Dad<br />
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The last time walking out our door as a single man. I love the unintentional symbolism of the little boy basketball hoop and a pair of sneakers scattered on the floor with the bright light on the other side of the door.<br />
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Waiting for the bride<br />
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Scenes from the Wedding<br />
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Mr and Mrs Shane White<br />
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Beautiful Smiles!<br />
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<br />
The Tracy Family<br />
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Papa and Grandma White with Shane and Claire<br />
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Posing with all twelve nieces and nephews (Granddad and Nana White's grandchildren)<br />
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My eleven children<br />
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My boys<br />
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The wedding party<br />
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Claire and Shane<br />
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The Tracy's hosted a beautiful reception with a delicious dinner and a dance at the local Quality Inn.<br />
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My good friend and fellow grandmother (my daughter's mother-in-law) Chris Kleven made this beautiful and delicious wedding cake (vanilla/strawberry, poppyseed/cream cheese, and chocolate/gnoche). If it looks like something is missing that's my fault. Sunday night I was talking to my boys in the dining room and my eye caught a small black box on top of my china hutch. The memories came back rapidly and jagged like a Hitchcock scene with screeching music. I had flash backs of Shane asking, "Can you give this to Mrs. Kleven?", "Where should I put it?", "It's the topper for the wedding cake." If anyone noticed it was missing they never said anything to me about it. It agonizes me a little bit that it was only 2 1/2 miles from the hall and could have been easily retrieved!<br />
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Keith dressed Gabe for the wedding and, when he put the coat on, Gabe looked into the mirror and said, "I'm a man." So, two of my men, Gabe and Shane.<br />
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Last spring Shane asked me to pick out the music to our mother/son dance. I knew it would have to be a country son for my country loving boy and I wasn't sure where to start looking. Then I thought, "I wonder if I could write a song for him?" So I did. While washing dishes one afternoon a stanza came to my mind and I dried my hands to jot it down on a piece of scrap paper. I stuck it to the refrigerator with a magnet so I didn't lose it and it became the first lines of the fourth verse of Shane's Good-Bye Song. They were, "You wouldn't know it to look at them now/ dancing in the middle of the floor/ that it was just a few years ago/ she couldn't wait to see him walk out her door". I cried as I wrote the song and I cried when I first heard it put to music by my talented son Chet. I've cried again when I've watched this video of the dance, and even Shane cried when he heard it for the first time on the dance floor. It is a testament to the deep emotions that the love and struggles of parenting and growing up bring to our hearts. I'm thankful that the trials were short-lived and that the joy is now so full.<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/foTjELMGycQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Finally, the end of their day, and maybe even the beginning of the next, and on to the honeymoon and together forever.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1G7d2GyQcoMSyIAw9m4dHdJZBPReXzLhii8S9Ns6O9Uyz-kAvXS9IPUexNY58vTAqJ8AmdGJm_QJbylpJaOk7b3qDXl-6y_xa24EOSX1Jy-t_mltOMOfN2VmNOqlCr5kcf6jvQV_7lVxi/s1600/DSCF8479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1G7d2GyQcoMSyIAw9m4dHdJZBPReXzLhii8S9Ns6O9Uyz-kAvXS9IPUexNY58vTAqJ8AmdGJm_QJbylpJaOk7b3qDXl-6y_xa24EOSX1Jy-t_mltOMOfN2VmNOqlCr5kcf6jvQV_7lVxi/s400/DSCF8479.JPG" /></a></div>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-86533343031807997182015-07-13T01:18:00.000-05:002015-07-13T11:17:03.118-05:00Has Gabe changed my life?Actually, the comment/question that my friend sent to me was this: <blockquote>Gabe always looks so happy. Has he changed your life? I was just wondering.</blockquote>It was such a simple statement, such a simple question. But it felt almost impossible to answer. Initially, I thought to myself (more like screamed), <blockquote>"YES! Absolutely and in every way. In fact, change doesn't even begin to describe the enormity of the impact Gabe has had on my life."</blockquote>Then I began to feel bad about my reaction, as if it implied negative things about Gabe and my life with him. As if only bad things change my life. So, I considered other things in my life and asked the same question. I realized that my answer to those things would be the same.<br />
<br />
Has my life changed since I; <blockquote>spent a year as an exchange student?<br />
moved into my own apartment?<br />
got married?<br />
had my first child?</blockquote>To every one of those I would also respond, <blockquote>"YES! Absolutely and in every way."</blockquote>Important life events don't just change a life, they redefine it. Things that don't change my life are, by their lack of impact, inconsequential--of no consequence. As for Gabe, as is true with each of my other children, he is not inconsequential. Therefore, my life has most certainly been significantly impacted by him.<br />
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So, I consider again, <blockquote>"How has Gabe changed my life?"</blockquote>What would probably be more accurate if I'm going to try to fully understand the intent of the question is, <blockquote>"In what ways has Gabe, with Down syndrome, changed my life as compared to how my life was changed, in general, by my other children?"</blockquote>And if parents of children with special needs are honest, they will admit that more changes occur in your life as a result of having a child with special needs versus having one without special needs.<br />
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I could complete the answer to that question by saying, "Yes, Gabe has changed my life just as each of my children has changed my life." But to do so wouldn't really be giving a complete and honest answer to the whole question.<br />
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So, Lynda, here is a real answer to your question. Because you were wondering.<br />
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Since the day you asked me that question I have intentionally considered what I would be doing differently if I didn't have Gabe. Here are some things I noticed. <br />
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*When I took my teenagers and their friends to the water park I would have brought a book, sat in the coffee shop, and enjoyed a quiet afternoon. Instead, I climbed over 1000 steps and went down outdoor water slides, indoor water slides, slides on tubes, slides on mats, single tubes, doubles tubes, racing tubes, and gratefully floated the lazy river with Gabe.<br />
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*When I drove to Bemidji with Lisa and Gabe to visit Shane I would have walked and talked with Lisa and Shane. Instead, I walked and talked with Lisa and Shane AND met every dog on the paths at Lake Itasca, played frisbee, walked around a restaurant finding all of the unique cartoon character cookie jars, and slept on the floor in front of the door to our hotel room so I could prevent Gabe from playing on the elevator at 4:30 am (again).<br />
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*When I went to Owen's baseball game I would have sat in the stands and watched Owen play. Instead, I stood and watched him while I played catch with Gabe.<br />
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*When the grandchildren came to the house they would have moaned about being bored with the old people. Instead, they couldn't wait to come and play with Gabe.<br />
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*When I did the laundry I would have done it alone. Instead, Gabe pulled the things out of the dryer and tried to guess who they belonged to. I would not have laughed so much as I folded clothes.<br />
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*When I walked to the car from the rest area toilets I would have walked. Instead, I raced.<br />
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*When I came home from my future daughter-in-law's bridal shower I would have put down my things and gone about my business. Instead, I was greeted with a huge hug and, "You're home! Oh, I missed you! I missed you so much!" followed by another hug.<br />
<br />
Gabe does look happy a lot. He is happy a lot, but not as much as he looks because I usually post pictures of him smiling. He can make my day and cheer us all up.<br />
<br />
But some of the changes are hard. Gabe has had more health problems than my other children. His education requires more teamwork and research. He has been slower to communicate and it can be hard to know when he is being defiant or when he doesn't understand (and there is a lot of both). He is still not consistently toilet trained. He is not always aware of danger and doesn't articulate when he does understand so I struggle with how much freedom to give him.<br />
<br />
But, even the hard things have produced some positive results. His health and education trials have opened doors to relationships I never would have made. His slow communication has made me more patient and observant. And the toilet training trials that have brought me to some of my lowest lows have brought me to a deeper, richer knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It's hard to imagine that it took dirty diapers to break me down and more fully open my heart and mind to God, proving that His ways are definitely not my ways!<br />
<br />
The fact is, the trials that I have gone through with Gabe have brought about some of the richest and most gratifying changes of all. I have sought God in ways that I never did before. I have dug deeper into His word and striven more diligently to absorb and understand it than I ever have. In many ways, I was too capable and able to handle things and keep things under control. Gabe helped me to be more fallible. <br />
<br />
I know that the things that 'pull the rug out from under me' are the ones that leave me lying on my back and looking up to God. Gabe can pull the rug out, and that gift is immeasurable.<br />
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Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-85678153785648439502015-03-03T12:27:00.000-06:002015-03-04T13:22:30.410-06:00Growing up "White"<br />
A year ago, my then college-freshman son Shane (our seventh child and fifth son), wrote a paper for his English class entitled "Painting my 'White' Mask". What emerged from that assignment was an inside look at what it's like to live surrounded by stereotypes and expectations, what it's like to grow up in a big family in a small town, and what it's like for anyone to grow up, find their own way in life, and become a composite of their upbringing and their own person. I'm incredibly proud of the young man Shane is today and I thank him for sharing this story with me, knowing I would share it with you.<br />
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<b>Painting my “White” Mask</b><br />
<br />
There’s not much left to the imagination when you’re the seventh version of the same brand. An iPhone could tell you that. A new charging jack? Cool. Your camera can face forward and backward? Impressive. You’re still an iPhone. Being an iPhone brings along a set of expectations, most of which will accurately describe you. You’ll have an Apple, Inc symbol on your back, a touch screen, and will perform more tasks than the majority of your cell phone peers. There is a different set of expectations that come along with being a Mr. White. You can’t really get upset at people for judging you by the cover of your birth certificate. After all, you have twenty-five cousins and ten siblings, most of whom have acted in a similar fashion. So what are these expectations? Are they presumptions that you don’t mind solidifying, making the stereotype even stronger for those that will follow you, or do you find yourself searching for the white-out to cover up the memory of “your” mistakes? Throughout my years of living in a big-family-small-town world, I have learned that there are a set of “do” and “don’t” expectations, but that you are still able to make a name for yourself, seen by those that will take the time to look at the picture you’ve painted on your own White mask.<br />
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As I emerged into the social world after spending fourteen years in a cocoon known as homeschooling, I soon observed that there were at least a few things expected of me. The quick, pleasant glance over the glasses of Mrs. Kotarba as she called out my name revealed her expectation of me being a good, respectful student. Coach Moore, Coach Fortier, and Coach Waksmonski’s inquiries as to whether I’d be “coming out this season?” told me that they were chomping at the bit to have another talented athlete on the roster of each of their respective sports teams. The flirty giggles from immature and superficial freshmen girls, paired with the laughably loud whispers of “that’s TROY’S younger brother!”, showed their anticipation of me growing out of the gangly, awkward body I was trapped in at the time (although Troy, now a model, would be quick to jokingly point out that they got their hopes up too high for me). There were also a few dirty looks thrown my way in the halls, paired with comments behind my back by people that I didn’t even know, about how much better I assumed I was than everybody else. So after a few weeks of high school, I learned that, in a general description, Mr. White (the Shane was unimportant) would be not only a smart and respectful young man, but a cocky, stuck up athlete as well.<br />
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As I settled into my freshman routine, I learned that there were also a few things that I would <i>not </i>do. I sat through speeches in the first week of freshman classes warning me about how huge of a problem drugs and alcohol were. I laughed. I hadn’t even heard these “huge problems” mentioned to me, much less been offered them. So I asked the older Mr. Whites if they had noticed these issues during their high school days. To my surprise my teachers were right. There was a problem. The older Mr. Whites had been offered, but had declined. I soon realized that it was not the problem that was going away in our school, but that it was simply becoming common knowledge that Mr. Whites simply don’t do that. They don’t skip class, smoke weed or drink alcohol, so don’t even ask. These undesirable “opportunities”, however, weren’t the only ones I was being left out of. I was pursued by coaches for athletics, but why not band teachers or the drama club? The answers to my questions were becoming redundant: Mr. Whites don’t do that.<br />
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So there I was as a freshman with my entire high school story already written for me by others. Looking back on the final edition that I eventually wrote, I’ll be the first to admit many similarities. Mrs. Kotarba’s assumptions turned out to be correct, as I finished with the sixth class rank out of two-hundred and fifty students and multiple “Student of the Month” awards (one even coming from her class). Coach Fortier and Waksmonski went on to be names I said countless times over my four years of high school, as I was a three year starter in both varsity basketball and baseball. By senior year I had been offered alcohol and drugs, but declined every time, continuing the stereotype that younger Mr. Whites are now experiencing. I never did pick up an instrument or participate in the school play, although I wish I had. Lastly, even with my best attempts to avoid the reputation, there are a handful of young adults out there who, if asked about Shane White, will say “asshole!” instantly.<br />
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So did I fail at painting over my White mask? Some would say I did. I didn’t rewrite all the rules my siblings had given me to follow, but I liked the majority of the patterns they set. I find nothing wrong with avoiding drugs and alcohol, striving to succeed in academics, athletics, and being respectful while doing it. As for the negative attributes, I learned the hard way that old habits (even family habits) die hard. For those that looked from a distance, confidence was easily mistaken for arrogance. Even my girlfriend has admitted that “stuck up” was her first impression of me. But for those that cared enough to come closer and look for Shane showing through the White, they saw a subtly different Mr. White from the rest. Throughout high school, I am proud to say that I gained many real, close friends who made that choice to look deeper and realize that the decisions I made were my own. When they look at my faintly colored White mask, they call it Shane. Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-19777998975736067632015-02-05T15:39:00.003-06:002015-02-05T15:39:52.194-06:00Mid-winter Update for Heidi and Svein OlavTo the Kjeve family--Here is a picture diary for you of the last few months of 2014. <br />
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With 11 grandchildren there are often little ones in the house and we have had several of them stay with us for two or three days to give their parents a break. Here is Christoffer reading with Veda and then with her little brother Isaac.<br />
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I thought I had a photo inside the house on Thanksgiving day with all of the tables set up and guests seated, but I must not have downloaded it yet. This picture shows a group of the guys (and a few girls) out in the back field playing football. It is one of the favorite Thanksgiving traditions for our children. They would rather miss the turkey than the football game!<br />
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Between the holidays we took the trip to Florida. I think everyone agreed it was worth missing school and having to catch up with the homework! I have included just a sample of the photos from the trip.<br />
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We drove about 3 hours to see Owen and Bryce play a basketball game and then left from there for our trip. We drove through the night to Louisville, Kentucky. Usually Keith drives until about 1:00 and then I take over. However, with Christoffer sitting in the front seat next to him the two of them talked all night and Keith made it all the way to Louisville. I don't think that's ever happened before! Yeah Chris! I got to sleep!<br />
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We toured the Louisville Slugger factory where baseball bats are made.<br />
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We drove on to Chattanooga, Tennessee stopping at Mammoth Caves and Kentucky and then going to an underground cave and waterfall called Ruby Falls. This is the falls with colored lights and then Christoffer in front of the falls. (The flash reflected off of the water spray.)<br />
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Up above the caves we toured above-ground rock formations and enjoyed the views on Lookout Mountain. The boys enjoyed posing on this balcony. I refused to even step on it!<br />
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As often as possible the football and aerobi (like a frisbee) came out and the boys played. This is a park on Lookout Mountain. I don't remember if we were in Tennessee or Georgia, we were right on the border.<br />
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I love this picture of Christoffer catching the football.<br />
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Here is Bryce catching the aerobi between his legs.<br />
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Owen and Christoffer loved battling for the football thrown by Bryce. Owen is taller, but Chris jumps higher!<br />
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In Alabama, on our way to Panama City, Florida, we stopped at a cotton field and let everyone examine the plants up close.<br />
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Our days in Panama City were a highlight of the trip. We all enjoyed our time on the Gulf, even though the temperatures were a bit cool. At least the local people thought it was cool, these northerners thought it felt great!<br />
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More football throwing.<br />
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Bryce doing back flips off of a sand dune.<br />
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This is Christoffer standing on his head. His feet are on fire!<br />
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Gabe loves playing with Chris.<br />
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Disneyworld was a disappointment to the teenage boys, exhausting for Gabe, but absolutely wonderful for Lisa. The boys took Gabe back to the house after lunch and Lisa and I stayed and had a great time together.<br />
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The brothers!<br />
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It was strange to leave the warm weather and come home to Christmas preparations. I didn't realize how much the cold weather and snow make it feel like Christmas weeks before the 25th! We didn't put our tree up until the 22nd. Lisa and Gabe loved helping decorate the Christmas tree, but the guys were happy to play a game together.<br />
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Here are a few pictures from Christmas morning.<br />
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I took this picture of Christoffer with Lisa at Papa and Grandma's house. We went there with Keith's sister and her family and three of our married children with their families. We all sang Christmas songs and ate cookies in their small house.<br />
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We rented this house for four days and stayed in it with all of our children (except Troy) and grandchildren. It was a nice way to be able to all be together. Unfortunately, a lot of us got sick before, during, and after our stay.<br />
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Everyone had fun out on the lake.<br />
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Ice fishing was a favorite. This is Dana, our middle daughter.<br />
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The older ones got their exercise pushing the young ones across the ice on sleds (after they shoveled it)....<br />
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...and pulling them around the lake in a wagon (this is Christoffer and Vince).<br />
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Inside we relaxed, played games, and ate popcorn by the fireplace.<br />
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I'll try to update you a little more frequently. We can't believe that our time with Christoffer is half gone. It's going way too quickly.Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-3420926427407463312015-01-29T09:31:00.003-06:002015-01-29T09:33:38.563-06:00Katie and Ryan Schouweiler's Wedding, January 24, 2015For the third time in less than a year I got to coordinate the wedding of a beautiful young couple, following God's call for their life to be united in marriage. It was a pleasure to get to work closely with the girls and help make their special days go smoothly. I finally had the presence of mind to video tape the wedding last Saturday for my niece Katie and Ryan. Actually, it wasn't my mind, but the photographer who, during the rehearsal of the song with the bride, asked, "Is anyone going to videotape this?"<br />
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I decided I would! It's not high quality, but it captures the day. My camera stops on its own and saves the content about every 12 1/2 minutes and I tried to stop and start it so it wouldn't make breaks during important parts of the ceremony. I waited too long for the first break so part 2 is only 25 seconds long (the time between the camera's break and then the one I initiated).<br />
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Part 1 Welcome, Giving away the bride, Pastor's charge<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1OSNxTkQnMk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Part 2 Pastor's charge continued<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VjEDAjcdYMA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Part 3 The Pledge, the vows, signing the marriage license with Chet and Bryce singing "How Sweet the Sound" by Citizen Way<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kNeo0zB5-qg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Part 4 Katie, Chet, and Bryce singing "Holy (Wedding Day)" by The City Harmonic<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/musI26wDw8c" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Part 5 Exchange of Rings, Introduction of couple, recessional to Chet and Bryce singing "How Sweet the Sound" and other songs as the guests are dismissed<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Uj9wb1z4Tsg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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It was a special thing for me to see four of my children participate in this wedding. Ellen and Dana are three years apart and Katie fits right in between them. The three of them have been friends forever and have literally gone through all of their life's highs and lows together. Chet and Katie are only only 4 months apart so he was the odd boy out in that age group of cousin/siblings. They started singing together in high school and I hope they don't stop. And Bryce, Bryce is just everyone's friend and finds a way to be a part of the lives of all of his family, close and extended, no matter what the age.<br />
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(And if you're wondering, my daughter Ellen (the bridesmaid on the far left), is 8 months pregnant.)Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-16189909710386996932014-10-19T05:58:00.000-05:002014-10-19T06:31:35.895-05:00For Heidi and Svein Olav<br />
When I was an exchange student in England we didn't have the internet to connect us to home, or home to us. Phone calls were very expensive and we only spoke three times during my year abroad. Besides writing letters, one of the ways my parents felt connected was to see my photographs. I used a 35 mm camera and shipped the rolls of film back to the US to be processed. I gave my parents' address as the home address so that the processed photos would be sent to them. They would look forward to getting a package from the film company and often had to guess at what I was doing or who I was with in the photos.<br />
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Now that we have internet the distance doesn't seem quite so great. However, having a photograph and seeing your son in his new environment would certainly be comforting to parents who feel further away than the emails and facebook posts suggest.<br />
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I have included pictures from a few different activities over the past 2 months. I did not include any from soccer since you've been able to see those online. I am also missing a few since I can't find one of the cameras I used, but I'm sure it will show up eventually!<br />
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This is the first view that we had of our students, and they of us, on August 15. As I already told you, Heidi, I got very teary-eyed just seeing Christoffer walk into the gym. He is fifth from the left. The students all lined up and then had to introduce themselves, tell what country they were from, and tell who they were going to be living with and where. It was difficult to just sit there waiting for everyone to speak when we just wanted to run and hug our students!<br />
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We were finally able to meet face to face. I know you've seen this photo but I wanted to include it as the first picture of Christoffer with some of his American siblings, Gabe and Owen. Bryce had to work and Keith and Lisa were with other family members on a camping trip.<br />
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We made the three hour drive home where Bryce met us and the next morning Gabe, Chris, and I joined the campers for a bike ride. Here he is with Keith getting a bike ready.<br />
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With Lisa and Gabe filling water bottles from a pump.<br />
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My son-in-law took this photo of us that includes our daughter, Dana, and grandchildren, Sadie and Nigel. The other half of our group (friends, cousins, and an aunt and uncle) had left by this time.<br />
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This is the family playing the game Pictionary. It was entertaining to have Chris play a game where he had to draw and guess words in English. We had some very funny situations when there were words mix-ups or when he knew what a drawing meant but didn't know the English word and would act it out. He never was nervous or embarrassed but just had a good time with everyone.<br />
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Seniors have special pictures taken their final year of high school. Christoffer has a cd with hundreds of the pictures but here a few of his favorites. Bob Mainhardt(our photographer friend)even took a few of the boys together for us. I actually had to get them out of school to take the pictures because their schedules were so busy with soccer and we had the two weddings (I am still working on getting those pictures!).<br />
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Homecoming week was certainly a new experience. Traditionally, "homecoming" was the week, or the Friday night football game, when graduates would come back to see one another at their school. Some do return, but it is used more for festivities and fun events for the current students. During homecoming week there are a number added activities for the students and one of them is "spike volleyball". In this game, the junior and senior boys form two teams and compete against one another. The members of the girls' volleyball team act as their coaches and the girls' coach acts as the official. Parents and students attend the game and cheer on the teams in a very light-hearted and fun atmosphere. There is a lot of joking and laughing. One of the fathers handed his son (a junior whose team was losing) $5 and the boy ran and put it in the official's pocket as a bribe. It was all in fun and was an enjoyable night. Our senior boys won the game.<br />
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On Friday afternoon of that week there is a pep rally for the students during the last hour of school. They introduce the sports teams, the band plays, the dance team performs, and the "homecoming court" are introduced by performing a small skit they have planned. "Homecoming court" are the students who were voted by their classmates to contend for the title of Homecoming King and Queen.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSTME-G0dhgv43mTT-fD1-rSrbXqaynU_ulv8Yc2TGJ1AnkZXtcYz5Vo6wM4QYQNdj9ruyNAupZTK11oFCvRnzw1DZDUfHyy04HioAs6PpJ_-5uC5UdMKROhxx3j3JEy5-RGncG_QViKsJ/s1600/DSCF4754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSTME-G0dhgv43mTT-fD1-rSrbXqaynU_ulv8Yc2TGJ1AnkZXtcYz5Vo6wM4QYQNdj9ruyNAupZTK11oFCvRnzw1DZDUfHyy04HioAs6PpJ_-5uC5UdMKROhxx3j3JEy5-RGncG_QViKsJ/s320/DSCF4754.JPG" /></a></div>The dance team recruited a group of boys to perform part of their dance with them. I wasn't sitting in a good spot to see it very well. I was filming and Lisa was taking pictures, but we're hoping to get a copy of the film that a friend took. You can see Bryce and Chris together in the front row.<br />
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Bryce was on homecoming court and he had Chris participate in his skit.<br />
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After the pep rally the students and many people from the community go downtown for a parade. I've called it the "world's worst parade", but everyone has a lot of fun. It's over in about 20-25 minutes. Different groups from the school have a "float" (often just a vehicle with a sign that they walk next to), the band marches, the grade school children walk and throw candy to spectators, and the homecoming court ride in the back of trucks with the king and queen being the last vehicle down the street. Gabe LOVES the Hodag!<br />
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Here's Owen with the soccer team. Christoffer was walking with the football team and I didn't see him in time to get a picture.<br />
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Bryce and Emma, king and queen<br />
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Lisa got so much candy that she divided it between herself and the three boys who were in the parade. She spelled their names out with the candy on their beds.<br />
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Here's a picture of Christoffer getting ready for a kick-off in the game that night.<br />
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The following pictures are from our canoe trip down the Wisconsin River. It wasn't a long trip, just a few hours, but it was a beautiful day to be out. Christoffer caught this fish with his hands before we started down the river!<br />
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We saw two trees along that river that were being gnawed by beavers.<br />
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The family<br />
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We went to our cabin that evening for supper and were joined by Dana and her family (David, Sadie, and Nigel). We should have turned the heat on earlier. It was chilly in there. We just had the cabin built this summer. A wood stove will be installed next week.<br />
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I hope you've enjoyed a little window into Christoffer's American life!<br />
Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-43714673115904744292014-10-16T22:40:00.000-05:002014-10-16T22:40:44.844-05:00Gabe's Football Debut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdeif_6gPnjZVVHsf1FWw71OH1AwSacDSt1MThh_5Wc3rkBl384QH3UurrfZ_bOo39Ph8XiX4q6BHErJ5-qcUkEiLNJXJ-4-CqBCriEeuldQeKutT9P7Ukd-3aSHvSO9vw9w1lmAjgFai/s1600/DSCF5033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdeif_6gPnjZVVHsf1FWw71OH1AwSacDSt1MThh_5Wc3rkBl384QH3UurrfZ_bOo39Ph8XiX4q6BHErJ5-qcUkEiLNJXJ-4-CqBCriEeuldQeKutT9P7Ukd-3aSHvSO9vw9w1lmAjgFai/s320/DSCF5033.JPG" /></a></div>Gabe has had the joy of being the high school football JV2 team's honorary captain and sideline entertainment for the past month. Tonight, Coach Apfel suited him up in his own jersey, helmet, and pads and let him field a kick-off. The official game had ended, and even though it was the last game of the season and the Hodags finished with a tough loss, the boys all eagerly took the field to give Gabe a chance to run the ball.<br />
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The opposing team (Mosinee) wasn't even sure what was going on when they saw the Hodags back on the field. Their coach yelled, "Run the kick off and don't tackle him!" They did just what their coach said to do and when they realized what was going on they really got into the spirit of it, making flying missed-tackles all the way down the field.<br />
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Even the Mosinee fans joined in and at the end of the clip one can be heard chiding the players for missing their tackles.<br />
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Go Gabe!!<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/KdvErwdyG6g" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-73327792215761369172014-10-10T07:28:00.000-05:002014-10-10T07:28:18.465-05:00Amazing TalentAs a mom, one of the greatest joys I have is to see my children's talents grow, develop, and blossom. It is astounding to watch a child grow into something that you know was not of your making. I can look at every single one of my children and see something in them that is way beyond me and my capabilities. I marvel at what they can do. When they use those gifts to bless others and bless the Lord it blesses me. <br />
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Bryce's "thing" is anything musical or dramatic. Besides a few beginner lessons with his sister, Dana, ten years ago, he has never had any formal piano training. He hears something, over a speaker or in his head, and he sits down and plays it. I can't even comprehend that talent. My 7 years of lessons amounted to, well, a lot of wasted money and nothing that anyone would ever want to hear. Bryce plays from something within. His mind imagines and his fingers produce.<br />
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Last Sunday night Bryce performed two original songs for the high school talent show. The duet placed first and the solo (which he laughs about not being based on a personal experience) placed third.<br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/kqkI8ADbzjc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-58058098945307455672014-07-07T08:49:00.000-05:002014-07-07T08:49:36.096-05:00Mr. Comeback<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatdSTp51nZVsQU-s_2Uep-L2MrxCWzwpVCcFoIf2sz5F6llLQ9PLcqkFBYyFAhoGwNlhNmHkf_BND03VtK_LbhXSfH3ky1ZVu4x8Bh46TcC5zzuJA488bwjiS1OF49wc75WNHCT2ONDba/s1600/BryceMenards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatdSTp51nZVsQU-s_2Uep-L2MrxCWzwpVCcFoIf2sz5F6llLQ9PLcqkFBYyFAhoGwNlhNmHkf_BND03VtK_LbhXSfH3ky1ZVu4x8Bh46TcC5zzuJA488bwjiS1OF49wc75WNHCT2ONDba/s200/BryceMenards.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We've all thoroughly enjoyed the stories that Bryce brings home from his hours of dealing with the public as a cashier at our local Menards store. People are funny. Bryce is funny. Put them together with his comedic telling of the tales and it's downright entertaining.<br />
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Last week he came home with a story that beat all others, hands-down. Better than breaking up a fight in the check-out line. Better than the woman who sent employees running and searching for 15-minutes so she could save $.06 (yes, as in 6-cents). Better than a customer demanding the head cashier come find cough drops.<br />
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<b>Here's the story:</b><br />
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A gentleman came through Bryce's line with his items and when the total rang up the man asked, "Don't I get a discount?"<br />
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Bryce, understandably, looked a bit confused and asked, "Um, what kind of discount?"<br />
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The man just repeated, "A discount, don't I get a discount?"<br />
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Bryce politely queried, "You mean like a senior citizen's discount?"<br />
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"Oh, so you think I look old, huh?" the man countered.<br />
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Bryce just laughed and said, "Well, not necessarily, but I know that some stores do that so I figured that's what you meant. But we don't have a senior discount."<br />
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The man just handed Bryce his driver's license and let him inspect the identification. Bryce took it, looked down, and saw the name John Menard on the ID. <i>John Menard, as in the 74-year-old entrepreneur and billionaire from Eau Claire who founded the Menards chain, which Bryce had learned about in the training video just 3 weeks prior. </i> <br />
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Bryce knows how to think on his feet and this was no exception. He glanced up at the man, looked down at the card, and made a show of studying it. Then he looked up again with an expression of a dawning understanding and said, "Oh, I see, so you DO want a senior discount."<br />
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I think Mr. Menard's day was made.Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-10135989690593916862014-07-04T15:57:00.001-05:002014-07-07T09:01:39.331-05:00The March of TimeSo, where <i>does </i>the time go?<br />
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It goes from taking vacations with your family to passing on family trips in favor of jobs and basketball.<br />
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It goes from running to show Mom a salamander or yelling, "Hey, watch me!" to running out the door with a, "See ya!"<br />
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It goes from playing with the brothers in the backyard to road trips with them across the country.<br />
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It goes from 'dorky' to 'cool'.<br />
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It goes from visiting siblings in college to taking off for your own university experience.<br />
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It goes from sitting in the co-pilot's seat to taking off on your own.<br />
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It goes from getting your humorous comments put in the family "Funny Book"-- <blockquote>"I feel sorry for this song (last one in the hymnal), no one ever picks it."<br />
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"Oh! Dana would love that (passing a horse farm)! She could clean stalls."<br />
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"Finally! (his 7th birthday) I'll bet you're excited too. To have a boy since he was zero already 7-years-old!"<br />
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"If Hawaii sunk, would they take a star off the flag?<br />
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"I was going to sleep with my sunglasses on last night. I wanted to see if I'd have weird dreams when it was really dark."<br />
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</blockquote><br />
To writing thoughtful and insightful college papers.<br />
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It goes from asking, "Will you go to prom?" to "Will you marry me?"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLmC615AFV9JvqH8yzEUzp7c9LBf-uIqlsk7d5PZJG_et8WpXoego_x0Rw01zhvQBbtKA51aqijTlgQ4X0CbP62T23vakUzfmqG0_Wzrt8YF-lniEIgxjJRlcpyqo07JfDohiRRbpAYIS/s1600/DSCF7322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLmC615AFV9JvqH8yzEUzp7c9LBf-uIqlsk7d5PZJG_et8WpXoego_x0Rw01zhvQBbtKA51aqijTlgQ4X0CbP62T23vakUzfmqG0_Wzrt8YF-lniEIgxjJRlcpyqo07JfDohiRRbpAYIS/s320/DSCF7322.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmY1nmo708WpiMGWYi5zrCKE0a5onCEWGYGL4cwWwa6HyNJeLmIekBqJhlbT0Hylk-zJrq9g2PAiFiX1Hr1aCrF6Da5nh4GP2RoSVIxyQ9YdUvHMbHJCwy5-M1XM-EMMogyKOrxEcIHAnG/s1600/ShaneClaireEngagement.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmY1nmo708WpiMGWYi5zrCKE0a5onCEWGYGL4cwWwa6HyNJeLmIekBqJhlbT0Hylk-zJrq9g2PAiFiX1Hr1aCrF6Da5nh4GP2RoSVIxyQ9YdUvHMbHJCwy5-M1XM-EMMogyKOrxEcIHAnG/s320/ShaneClaireEngagement.jpg" /></a></div>She said yes (to both), and the March of Time goes on to a whole new tune.<br />
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Congratulations Shane and Claire!<br />
Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-88357802252090683152014-07-02T16:46:00.000-05:002014-07-02T16:52:08.410-05:00Special Needs, Special Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvpFU1iVt_Xvkt0J5HXsjYcWmtUijB3rr-LJlIJMxx78MTwgzFw0ln9okqN9f8jp5rxjZ4rUy8nI2bTf_-pYooxPgDGbrtRw4IZiX7jTTdtlj1Rki_ifgv77VFbq9zJaswtDuHW8c8W10/s1600/Bryce,+Canada+Trip+069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvpFU1iVt_Xvkt0J5HXsjYcWmtUijB3rr-LJlIJMxx78MTwgzFw0ln9okqN9f8jp5rxjZ4rUy8nI2bTf_-pYooxPgDGbrtRw4IZiX7jTTdtlj1Rki_ifgv77VFbq9zJaswtDuHW8c8W10/s320/Bryce,+Canada+Trip+069.JPG" /></a></div>Several years ago my friend Mary Silverberg got the idea to write a book featuring 10 women living with a child, children, or grandchildren with special needs that could be used to encourage others as they navigate the course of life with a child with special needs. I was asked to be one of the contributors and thoroughly enjoyed the months long project of reliving Gabe's story through words.<br />
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Mary wasn't able to find a publisher for the book, but she still wanted to make the stories available to others. She finally decided on using a blog format and highlighting the individual writers one at a time, spacing out the chapters of their part of the book.<br />
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I have enjoyed reading through the first two journeys and entering into the different aspects of the trials these women faced. This week, it was Gabe's turn to have his story told. There are 10 parts in all, and they've all been posted to the blog. If you want to read some indepth insights to our first few years with Gabe, as well as be blessed by the stories of the other women I invite you to log into Special Needs, Special Love at http://specialneedsspeciallove.com/Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-75370690581907355482014-07-01T11:48:00.001-05:002014-07-01T11:51:55.009-05:00The Saddest Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFiv04kaGlMTFb8r5iDHMFFRuGWl90BGH_GLDdaJ-Ejs-xcKxslB09xEcNiZ1OroEKxgc3lNpQbz9rKzNMJWff2_Pqd0uW1e1AeiuYhH63LIq8XhS8Ks_WA1v2BY489tNBmM3kWSblRB6/s1600/IMG_8697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFiv04kaGlMTFb8r5iDHMFFRuGWl90BGH_GLDdaJ-Ejs-xcKxslB09xEcNiZ1OroEKxgc3lNpQbz9rKzNMJWff2_Pqd0uW1e1AeiuYhH63LIq8XhS8Ks_WA1v2BY489tNBmM3kWSblRB6/s400/IMG_8697.JPG" /></a></div>For almost six months we had this beautiful girl in our home. Neon was an AFS student from Thailand who needed a new family last February and we got to be that family. She was not only beautiful on the outside with her infectious smile and graceful mannerisms. But her patience, kindness, sense of humor, melodious laugh, and willingness to be a part of our family and lives in every way completely won over our hearts. She was only with us for four days when she asked if she could call me "Mom".<br />
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Neon spent time where we were. If I was in the kitchen she was there talking and helping wash and cut vegetables, if I was in the garden she was talking with me and weeding by my side. If someone had a ballgame she was in the stands with us. If we sat down for a movie and popcorn she was curled on the couch, too. Neon never seemed to be pressing her own agenda, but fully living as a member of the family. She found ways to connect with each person, show interest in their lives, and help lift their spirits. She loved Gabe and had more patience with him than just about anyone I've ever seen. Of course, she had her own friends and activities. She kept the details logged on her space on the calendar and would remind me, "Mom, I'm going to Minocqua with friends today," or "Catherine is picking me up tomorrow at 12:00", or "my art club is over at 4:00, can you pick me up?". In her calendar space on June 30 she wrote, "The saddest day".<br />
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Neon didn't have an enormous circle of friends, but the small group she had was close and real. The tears shed upon their good-byes were not manufactured. And when we waved at her through the bus windows yesterday neither were mine. Yesterday, she was very sad. But tomorrow she'll be happy again and Thailand will be a little better off as it welcomes home one of it's true jewels.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhMwYnF-_BYwoOkNnGybtOfhfi5_0lReLPa8hbNY_Tkeby573rUJ25fDfZ3iOU0azgTfdTxvWdhcoLJuhfCS3ao9bGWvYFkge6yTCR9sFFD3CzVI3UeAyL5WUITYFHD8rmjXZOl3hdQMld/s1600/IMG_8455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhMwYnF-_BYwoOkNnGybtOfhfi5_0lReLPa8hbNY_Tkeby573rUJ25fDfZ3iOU0azgTfdTxvWdhcoLJuhfCS3ao9bGWvYFkge6yTCR9sFFD3CzVI3UeAyL5WUITYFHD8rmjXZOl3hdQMld/s400/IMG_8455.JPG" /></a></div>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3758335039485622685.post-4819680245948618782014-06-28T09:06:00.000-05:002014-06-28T09:06:46.887-05:00What Makes a Son a Son<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHN7Jqf8qyxScUCUczVDaL-fHYv-AG4eAUjCBJ1DTIX9oisZ2FjDLTDyvSqEZI2dBTjiMHP60TD6Y0F1ftVO218QNCFLsJVKfQKQzxu5cmaFMHkdnWo9JHhiibgBq8a7ElLgnU1nx-5Pb5/s1600/1-b1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHN7Jqf8qyxScUCUczVDaL-fHYv-AG4eAUjCBJ1DTIX9oisZ2FjDLTDyvSqEZI2dBTjiMHP60TD6Y0F1ftVO218QNCFLsJVKfQKQzxu5cmaFMHkdnWo9JHhiibgBq8a7ElLgnU1nx-5Pb5/s400/1-b1.jpg" /></a></div>Twenty-eight years ago I was questioning whether or not the baby in my arms was mine. At about 9:00 pm the previous evening I'd given birth to our second son. In my journal I wrote, <blockquote>Welcome to the White family Baby Keith. In 8 minutes you'll be 1 day old. It's been a good day for both of us--one of rest. Yesterday we worked. About yesterday...I woke up at 3 a.m. feeling contractions that I was pretty sure would lead to delivery. It was a <b>hot <i></i></b>night, the low was in the 70s (high during the day--90s) and the bedroom fan didn't keep me from sweating. I tried to rest, walked around some, played solitaire for awhile and called in at 5 a.m. to report my 5-6 minute contractions. Kathy L. was the CNM on call and she said to come on in. I could have waited but I couldn't resist the thought of an air-conditioned hospital! <br />
<br />
I went in to wake Keith up--it turned out to be a lot harder than I expected. I shook him a little and he looked at me with a very startled expression. When I asked if he was ready to take me to the hospital he suddenly rolled over on his stomach clutching his back with one hand. I thought he had a cramp or pain and I tried to rub it, but he said it didn't hurt. When I asked what was wrong he just got exasperated and asked, "Can you tell where it's connected?" The more I asked what he was talking about, the more annoyed he got with me. I figured he wasn't fully awake; but, when I told <b>him<i></i></b> that he just got madder. Finally, he asked me, "Can you see where the hose is connected?" and I knew he was not truly awake. I told him I was going to turn on the light and get dressed.<br />
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That, I did, and when I was ready to go I aroused him again--successfully. He looked at me funny and I asked, "Are you ready to go to the hospital?" He looked at me, jumped to see the time, and said, "Really?!"<br />
<br />
Well, we left Marty with Joey and headed out at 5:30 on a beautiful morning. I registered while Keith parked, he forgot my suitcase and had to return and we ended up riding up the elevator with Kathy. ......contactions never got closer than 5 minutes apart or lasted over 1 minute (nice and tolerable).....<br />
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I saw him as soon as he was out, and saw for myself that he was a "he". Margaret (new CNM) said, "It looks like your Daddy was right." Keith was sure he'd be a boy..........<br />
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Keith left at 11:00 with our baby still nameless. He said I could choose. We needed to sleep on it--our choices were Keith Byron, Jr, Chad Daniel, and Casey Brandon. I decided on Keith, Jr. I always thought I'd waid to see if we had a #4 son, but I didn't want to wait. This, too, was the closest I've ever been to Keith and after our day and <b>everything <i></i></b>I wanted this baby to have his name. Keith Byron White, Jr June 27, 1986 8:58 pm 8lbs 15 oz 22 1/4"</blockquote><br />
What I didn't write down was that 1) I had the name Keith in the back of my head, but not on any list we discussed. Keith Sr expected our baby to be named Chad or Casey. And 2) Baby Keith went to the nursery at 11:00 to get cleaned up and I went to sleep. When they brought him to me to feed him the next morning (which didn't make any difference to him, he wouldn't wake up for anything for 24 hours!)I took one look at him and said, "That's not my baby. My baby was uglier." Well, our bands matched and he was the right size and they convinced me that he just looked better after getting cleaned up. It bothered me for awhile and we joked about it years later when Keith came home from a biology class and announced he'd tested his blood and it was AB+. Back in 1986, they still did a blood test on newborns and I knew he was really A+ like both of his parents. The bottom line is, the class test was faulty and he really is A+ and it's pretty undeniable that he's our son. But, even if he'd turned out to actually have AB+ we agreed that we wouldn't do anything about it. We really felt that he's our son because we love him, more than because we have matching blood types.<br />
<br />
You never know what to expect when a baby is born. And when that baby is born healthy you have no cause for alarm or dashed hopes and expectations. Everything seems perfect. Of course, it never is. We lived through some sleepless nights, 6 months of trying to diagnose a dairy intolerance, a broken leg--a broken arm--and a concussion all before age 4 caused by jumping off of things, an irrational fear of worms that morphed into the fear of anything that looked like worms including shoe laces and anything living that wasn't human, and some more typical trials that just come with the territory of parenting. However, we also got to enjoy all the blessings of this boy, including--his contemplative mind, his competitive spark, his acute observation and empathy for someone in need, his uncanny math brilliance, his management skills (personal and work), his self-discipline, his love of fishing (once he got past the worm thing), and now his beautiful wife and adorable children.<br />
<br />
These things, the good and the bad and living them together is what makes him our son.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7_x-QWHiyyQpUD-hcSuVtmOvXs1AhvD2mQwlww-FbF1RVKdHeEDGWeNBgdyydRDj26MzQ8sG4CKT8-Q18cTpYmXnZM4agVtY9o03a-adYKmC5Pu7yEt7KJJQDqFWusPtP4LoaWqDomml/s1600/KeithColey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7_x-QWHiyyQpUD-hcSuVtmOvXs1AhvD2mQwlww-FbF1RVKdHeEDGWeNBgdyydRDj26MzQ8sG4CKT8-Q18cTpYmXnZM4agVtY9o03a-adYKmC5Pu7yEt7KJJQDqFWusPtP4LoaWqDomml/s400/KeithColey.jpg" /></a></div>Keithsladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05122219673684349680noreply@blogger.com0