Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Fakey McFakerson

I like to think I'm a pretty down-to-earth person.  I'm fairly realistic about my little corner of the world.  I know what I need to do to make it through the day.  I don't pretend to be better than I am.  I'm pretty darn even-keeled.

Which is why fake people drive me nuts.

Here's a scenario.  You meet someone who is seriously the kindest person on the planet.  We're not talking just a nice smile and 'hello', we're talking someone who uses the phrase 'precious' in a sentence and they don't mean the movie.  So you meet this person and think 'I need to hang out with them; maybe their kindness will rub off on my general sourpuss-ness'.  (Yes, I realize that isn't a word...work with me here!)

You get to know this person and wow, she's great.  She makes you feel like a million bucks, you are happier just being around her.  She is kind and compassionate to all she sees.  Then BAM!  One day her true colors come out.  Suddenly you see a side to her you never thought you'd ever see.  It's like when you're watching "Orange is the New Black" and suddenly there's a boob on the screen.  Where did that come from?  The beautiful, kind, wonderful person is now gossiping, talking smack about those same people she'd just praised, and cursing like a sailor.

Who is this person?  Why, it's Fakey McFakerson.


I used to really care what people thought of me.  I'd be lying if I said I really didn't care at all, but what it comes down to is this...I am who I am; take it or leave it.

I don't have the time or the energy for Fakey McFakerson.  You're only fooling yourself.  Instead, be honest.  Your life isn't roses.  Who's is?  I mean, really.  There are many things we'd all do differently if we had a do-over button.  But you don't.  I'd rather have a few close friends who would defend me and stand by my side through thick and thin, than dozens of Fakey's that only want to be superficial together.  Here's how that conversation would go::

Fakey #1: Oh my goodness, I have the most wonderful story to tell.  This morning at the breakfast table, my little Johnny told me that he thought he was the luckiest boy in the world to have me as a mommy.  I mean, he's just the most precious little boy.

Fakey #2: How precious.  My daughter told me that she loves it when I dress her up like a princess when we go to church.  I just think we can worship the Lord better that way.  And she never gets a speck of dirt on her clothes.  She's just the most precious little girl.

Fakey #1:  Did I tell you I ran into an old friend?  She told me how calm and beautiful I look.  She was just so precious to say that.  I don't get rattled by anything.  No matter what happens, I'm always calm and considerate.

Fakey #2: I just think we are awesome women.  Our kids are just the best kids ever!  I know I am around my kids 24/7, but I wouldn't dream of anything else.  They are just so precious.  I have them in so many after-school activities and they just love it.  Every night of the week is a different sport or lesson.  I love it when they're in plays, games, concerts, and programs and I can stand in front of the crowd and just smile at all they've achieved.

Me: (after I puke a little in my mouth) My kids drive me nuts on a daily basis.  Not a day goes by that one or both doesn't stain or rip their clothes, pee outside, or turn into a little sh*t when it's bed time.  My daughter wouldn't wear a dress if we paid her.  My son would only say he's lucky to have me as a mom if I let him have cereal for supper...again.  Oh, and my kids don't do many after-school activities because a)I work and b) I want them to be kids.  Banged up knees and everything.

So the moral of the story here, kids is this.  Quit acting like a Stepford wife.  Be yourself.  Once you learn to love yourself, faults and all, you may actually like yourself.  And others will too.  And if they don't, who needs them?  They're too stupid to be your friend anyway.

One more thing...

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

In the Blink of an Eye

Everything changes in just a moment.  In a blink of an eye.

This is the story of Sherry and Phil.  I first met Sherry about 12 years ago.  I was just starting my first job at Iowa Lutheran Hospital and she was leaving to join The Iowa Clinic.  A few years later, I was working at The Iowa Clinic, about 2 feet away from her.  As ultrasound techs working in close quarters, we bonded over my 2 pregnancies and her teenage sons.  Over the years she became my close friend, joining with 2 other employees to become lovingly known as "the square".
The Square.  From left: Sandy, Cris, Me, Sherry
Phil and Sherry have been married for 13 years (ish).  They had both been married before and each had 2 sons.  Phil's were grown and out of the house; Sherry's were teenagers.  Phil helped raise Sherry's sons and get them out the door...with love, of course!  As Phil and Sherry started planning their retirement years, they dreamed of camping, traveling and just loving life.  

Everything changes in an instant.

Phil started having back pain.  He's worked as a machinist for years, so back pain wasn't a big concern.  But then it wasn't getting better.  A chiropractor wasn't helping either.  So an MRI was ordered, just to make sure everything looked ok.  The MRI tech told Sherry that rarely is anything found in the thoracic spine, unless it's bad.  

It was bad.  There were tumors on his spine.

The diagnosis::  Multiple Myeloma.  Cancer of the plasma.  In other words, a cancer that can not be beat.  A cancer that will take more than just Phil's life.  It will kill Randy and Thomas' father, Nathan and Jeremy's step-father.  It will kill Sherry's husband, the one she says finally 'stuck'.  Gone is the fun-loving, hard-working man.  Instead there's a shell of a man.  In the few weeks since the diagnosis, Phil has undergone radiation treatment and started chemo.  Because of the tumor's location, the radiation burned through his esophagus, causing severe pain.  He wasn't able to eat or drink.  So back to the hospital for IV fluids to help hydrate his body.  

Chemo has now started and with it, the loss of hair.  He's already lost over 20 lbs and things are just barely getting started. 

Phil and Sherry
From one breath to the next, everything changes.  The retirement you thought you'd have is gone.  The money you've saved your whole life will be spent on doctor's visits and medicine.  The person you said you'd love until death is going to die long before you.  What would you do? 

The difference between this kind of cancer and say, breast cancer is that there is little known about this cancer.  Because it's a cancer of the blood, it's lumped with leukemia and lymphoma, even though they are very different beasts.  People are quick to throw money at breast cancer research, but little known cancers are left with nothing.  Race for the Cure has sponsors handing out everything from free meals to free bags to free...everything.  Walks for blood cancer?  Nothing is given away, unless you've raised $100 for research.  That just doesn't seem fair.  

Nothing is going to save Phil from this disease.  He's going to die.  It may not be tomorrow, next week or even next year.  But it's going to happen.  

To help raise money for cancers like Phil's, there's a Light the Night walk in October.  The square has started at team named "Phil's Fearsome Fighters".  It's my goal to raise $100 for this cause.  If you'd like to donate something towards my goal, you can follow the link below.  To learn more about Multiple Myeloma, click here.  To learn more about the Light the Night cause, click here.  

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Sunday, June 30, 2013

My rant for the day...

Joel and I used to be youth leaders.  It seems like a hundred years ago now.  Many of our Jr. High kids are married with children of their own.  Weird.  Makes me feel like an old fart.  Sometimes Joel and I joke that we're the old couple sitting on our front step yelling at those 'young-uns' doing all those shenanigans.  It seems like forever ago that I was a teenager or in my early 20's and making a name for myself, going out with friends, no worries in the world.  It was really only a little over 10 year ago.  10 years from now that will be my kids in their teenage years.  Strange.

If Hannah or Noah were to ever read this post, I would want them to know something.  The world will make you think you need to look a certain way, think a certain way, believe certain things.  There will be a day that you are more concerned with how your friends think of you than what your daddy and I do.  And there will be a day you will hate us.

One of the girls Joel and I used to 'lead' in youth group is a facebook friend.  She's a beautiful girl in her early 20's.  She always had that special smile that comes from innocence.  She still has a smile, but it's different now.  She's changed so much in the past few years.  Her skirts have gotten shorter, her tops have gotten lower and tighter.  Every picture she posts is her striking a pose that shows off her assets.  The comments made on her pictures are ones complimenting her beauty and free spirit.  She's often photographed at a bar or smoking, arms around a boy or two, smiling that special smile.

I just wonder if she realizes what image she's portraying.

There are so many things I want to say to her.  I would love to sit her down and talk some sense in to her.  But that wouldn't be well received.  How could a 33-year-old woman understand what it's like to be a 21-year-old girl with the whole world to explore?

Oh, my dear.  I've been there.  I remember wearing the short skirts and tight tops because I wanted attention.  And I got attention.  But was it the kind of attention I really wanted?  Yes, I had guys that came over to chat with me.  I had girls who were envious of me.  But was that really who I was?  A flirt?  A girl who just wanted to have a good time, no boundaries?  A girl who confuses lust with love?

I had to take a long, hard look at the type of life I wanted.  Where did I see myself in 1 year?  5 years? 10 years?  I wanted a family.  I wanted a husband who would stick by me through thick and thin, good times and bad.  I didn't want to be a divorce statistic.

For my daughter, I say this.  There will be plenty of times that you don't like the rules your daddy and I make.  There will be a day that you hate us.  But I promise to raise you in a way that shows you how much you are loved and the type of love you deserve.  You don't need to make yourself look a certain way or act a certain way to gain attention.  The attention you gain by putting on a false front isn't the type of attention that you want.  The man your daddy and I pray you'll find is one who doesn't need to see you in skin tight clothes to love you.  That love isn't real.  It's merely a shadow of a love so much greater just waiting for you .

For my son, I say this.  You are going to be put in situations where girls may dress a certain way or act a certain way to get your attention.  You may even want to do something stupid to gain their attention.  Your daddy and I are praying every day that when that temptation comes, you'll walk away.  You'll find it in yourself to look past those ridiculous situations.  We hope for you that you'll find a girl that doesn't need to resort to superficial trickery to gain your attention.  One that isn't looking for men to lust after her.  She's looking for real love.  And in return, you'll love her for the beautiful girl she is.

We pray for both our children that you'll find the type of love your daddy and I have.  It's there.  You may have to wait a long time for it but when you find it, it's so worth it!  

  

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Acupuncture

4 years ago I was overdue with my son and ready to strangle my husband for impregnating me.  Yes, I had a part in it, but when you're 41 weeks pregnant and waddling like a duck, the rational part of your brain has taken a leave of absence.  So my chiropractor/doula suggested acupuncture to get things moving along.  My first thought was "that's voodoo medicine".  Why would I want to pay someone to poke needles in my body when I'm sure Joel would do it for free??  Well, since I was miserable and ready to try anything, I did it.  Low and behold, my son was born in the wee hours of the next morning after the easiest, quickest labor.  I loved it.

Fast forward to yesterday.  I decided to do it again.  Not because I'm pregnant (or plan on ever being again...2 is enough for me!) but because since my son's birth, my hair has been falling out.  I used to have super lush, thick hair.  Now it's thin and scalp is showing through.  My thyroid doesn't work properly which is the main culprit.  After trying several different shampoos and home-remedies, I decided to try acupuncture again.  Yesterday was day 1.  Today was another treatment.  I was shocked to feel a difference so quickly!  My acupuncturist isn't focusing on my scalp per say, but instead focusing on other parts of my body that have 'blockages'.  I feel much more energized, I slept better last night, and my foot that has been swollen for 14 years (after a bad break) is starting to look normal again.  (Side note:: I've tried many different doctors and therapies on my foot, but to no avail.  The last podiatrist I saw told me to just learn to live with it...not a happy day).  

Acupuncture isn't for everyone but I am very happy with the results so far.  I go back on Monday for the big 'scalp treatment'.  In other words, my scalp will look like a pin cushion.  :)

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Sometimes I wish...

I was looking through pictures on facebook today.  Ya know, just wasting passing time.  I saw lots of pictures posted of little girls wearing frilly, cutesy dresses and hair bows.  For a half-a-second, I wished my daughter would wear those clothes.  I always wanted a little girl to dress up and put in fancy, frilly dresses.  Throw her hair up in a ginormous bow and pose her as a princess on her throne.  As a girl, I would play with Barbies and dress up my cabbage patch doll like she was my little girl.  When I found out I was pregnant with a girl, I was so excited for a real life doll.

But Hannah isn't like that.

She prefers jeans to dresses; mud and dirt to tea parties.  I can count on one hand the times she's allowed me to put a bow in her hair.

So I started to feel wishful that Hannah would be different.  That she'd be more like the other girls. More girly, I guess.  

But if she were like other girls, she wouldn't be Hannah.  When I look at her I see rare beauty.  She is confident, funny, sensitive, loving but most of all, she is my baby girl.  

Take another look at those other girls in the pictures.  Some are wearing bows larger than their heads.  Some are wearing super frilly dresses but sitting on the sidelines because they (or their moms) don't want to get the dress dirty.  Parents may spend big bucks on those dresses but not spend any time playing on the floor with their girl.  We see their cute dresses and perfect hair and immediately ooh and ahh over how adorable they are.  What does that teach them?  To get praise and attention, I need to look perfect?  To be a proper girl, I need to never get dirty?  

Hannah may like mud and dirt more than tea parties.  She may like Star Wars more than Barbie movies and shooting video games more than dolls, but she has more heart than any girl I know.  She's always ready to give a hug or word of encouragement.  

She is my little tomboy and I wouldn't have it any other way.  









Sunday, April 28, 2013

Party PIctures

Here are some pictures from Noah's birthday party.  I finally got them uploaded!
The birthday boy!

He really wanted dinosaurs.  He got 3!

This cool dinosaur is remote controlled so it walks and roars.  Very cool.

The awesome cake, courtesy of a friend.  It's Rudy from Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs.  

Check out those puffy cheeks!  It takes a lot of air to blow out 4 candles!

Hannah and her cousin playing with the dinosaurs

Noah was very upset that we would eat Rudy, the dinosaur.  So we had to be creative with out cutting.  


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

NOAH IS 4!

I am now a mother of a 4-year-old boy.  How did that happen?  I mean, I remember finding out I was pregnant with him (talk about a SHOCKER after being told we'd never get pregnant on our own...take THAT Western medicine!), giving birth to him (doubt I'll forget the acupuncture that preceded his birth either), and that's about it.  The last 4 years have been a blur.  A {mostly} good blur, but a blur nonetheless.

His birthday fell on a Sunday this year so we had a small get together with the grandparents and a few aunts/uncles.  Both Joel and my parents came, as well as 2 of Joel's sisters and their kids.  Not a large party by any means, but very relaxed and fun.  Noah's wish for his birthday was dinosaurs, so he got lots of them!  I even had a friend decorate a cake with Rudy, the spinosaurus from the Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaur movie.  (one of Noah's all time favorite movies.  It's even downloaded on the kids' Kindle)

I will eventually upload picture of the party here but our computer recently crashed.  We were barely able to move all the pics to DVD's before it died altogether.  Joel put in another operating system on the computer, which works but for some reason the camera can't upload pictures.  I didn't even know there was another operating system besides Windows.  Shows just how computer illiterate I really am :)

For now just picture an adorable blond-hair-blue-eyed little boy who is happy {most}of the time and you'll be picturing Noah.

Here's a few of his favs::

Movie: Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaur, Kung Fu Panda
TV Show: Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood
Animal: Dinosaur (is that actually an animal?)
Person: Mommy and Hannah (sorry Joel)

We have his preschool parent/teacher conference tomorrow night so let's hope he's actually paying attention is school and not just goofing off.  He's a stinker that way.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Shiloh, the geriatric dog

We are dog sitting for Joel's sister Rebekah's dog, Shiloh.  Now you may be thinking that dog sitting would be a few days, maybe a week?  Nope, we got suckered into watching this dog for 3 months.  Apparently that's more like fostering the dog.  So I guess we're foster parents?  Can I put that on my resume?  Hmmm...

When Rebekah first called us to ask if we'd consider watching her dog, this is what she said about Shiloh::

  • 9-year-old black lab
  • has hip dysplasia 
  • torn ACL
  • loves to go on walks but only for a little while because of her hips
  • completely house broken
  • loves to snuggle
Ok.  We thought about it for a few days then agreed to watching her.  We had a few stipulations, like Rebekah has to pay for her food, any vet appointments, etc...But yes, we'll watch your dog for 3 months.  

Day 1::
Shiloh isn't a black lab.  At least, not a pure bred.  She's maybe part black lab but also German shepherd and bassett hound.  Talk about a weird combo.  


She wanted nothing to do with any of us.  Now, that's to be expected since she had no clue who we were.  Then Rebekah tells us Shiloh doesn't have a dog bed so just let her sleep in her kennel.  OK.  Sure.  All night  we heard Shiloh whining, crying and clawing at her kennel.  She hated it.  Sleepless night #1

Day 2::
The next day was Sunday.  I asked Rebekah if Shiloh ever had a dog bed.  Yes, but it was thrown away because she peed all over it.  Excusemewhatnow?  She peed...on her bed??  Oh yes, she can't hold her urine at night.  Oh, and she drinks a TON of water so make sure you remove the water dish about 3 hours before bedtime.  Oh, and she has special medicine for her hips.  

I went out and bought her a dog bed for our room.  I figured she'd sleep better if she was near us.  Poor thing had to be scared to death at night.  So she slept in her bed on the floor by our bed.  Every time she moved her collar would rattle.  Sleepless night #2.

Day 3::
Then it was Monday.  When Shiloh got up off her bed I noticed some wet spots.  No big deal.  I had bought a bed that had a waterproof cover.  I just threw the cover in the wash.  No big deal.  Shiloh went to her perch in the living room (on the floor where she doesn't have to move).  A few minutes later she moved.  There was a wet spot.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I no more than cleaned up that urine there were several other wet spots on the carpet.  By now I had had it.  Out came the puppy pads.  Every time Shiloh laid down (which was often), I stuck a pad under her butt.  We went through several pads just that one day.  

So we called Rebekah.  What was this about being housebroken?  Because my carpet is full of pee.  Rebekah assured us she just must be nervous and we need to take her outside more often.  Nope, that wasn't the problem.  I took that dog outside every hour.  

Eventually Rebekah took the dog to the vet.  Now Shiloh is also on medicine for her bladder.  It seems to be helping.  At least now she only has accidents at night, which isn't the biggest of deals.  The bed cover is washable.  

Truly this dog is like taking care of an old person.  She has medicine she has to take at certain times a day.  She needs some exercise, but not too much lest she pop her hip out of place.  And she needs a special bed to keep her pee from the floor.  

There's a reason we don't have a dog.  





Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Country Christmas

All 4 of my blog followers have been bugging me to tell the story of my Jernstad family Christmas 2012.  Well, buckle up.  Here we go.

So we were supposed to have Jernstad Christmas on Christmas Eve.  Ya know, the night before Christmas when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse?  That ended up being a true statement.  Everyone was sick.  So our Christmas had to be rescheduled.  Apparently Mary needed to keep baby Jesus in until it was a more convenient time.

It had been decided months prior that we would all be converging upon Joel's oldest sister's house in Indianola, a little podunk town just south of Des Moines.

Now I love Annette, I really do.  She's one of those women who can take anything life throws her way.  She has 5 children, one with Down's Syndrome.  If you gave both she and I a bag of groceries, I'd waste half of it trying to make a fabulous meal that my kids would probably hate.  She'd make meals for a week and still have leftovers.  One of those kinds of women.  I truly think she was born in the wrong era.  She'd be completely comfortable on a farm milking cows in the morning and baking all afternoon, all while raising her children.  Oh, and did I mention she homeschools her kids too?  Seriously, she's wonderwoman.  In fact, the original invitation to her Christmas celebration was for a "country Christmas" packed with country type things.  What, I'm not sure.  Maybe we'd get to go cow tipping after singing carols.

This being said, they have a relatively small house.  And Joel has a very LARGE family.  You can see the problems already, right?  So when we had originally planned to celebrate Christmas, it had been on a Monday night (Christmas Eve).  For whatever reason when it was rescheduled for January, we kept it on a weeknight.  Only now the kids were in school and we had to work all day.  Bummer.

So after working all day then picking up our kids in Ankeny (which is north of Des Moines), we then had to drive  clear to the other side of the world to have our get together.  The plan was for everyone to arrive between 6-7 so we could begin the gift opening promptly at 7.  We made it clear that we needed to leave by 8:30 so we could be home by 9:30.  Our kids usually go to bed at 8 so this was going to be a late night for them.

Joel and I arrived about 6:15.  We were the first ones there.  Slowly the others trickled in.  At 7, all were there...except Joel's parents.  Hmmm...what to do, what to do?  Do we start the festivities or wait for them? You can probably guess what my vote was.  But we waited...and waited.  Finally they arrived at 7:45.  Now mind you, I still wanted to leave at 8:30.  I figured we'd start the gift opening right away.  Nope.  Out came the hymnals.

I have no problem with singing Christmas carols.  But it got downright silly.  Someone had the idea to turn out all the lights and sing by candlelight.  Wouldn't be a problem except there was only 1 candle.   And someone else had the bright idea to sign every verse of the carols.  Did you know there was more than one verse to "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing"?  At this point, I have the hymnal about 4 inches away from my face and I still can't read the words.

At 8:10 we started opening presents.  One...at...a...time.  Luckily my kids got their gift pretty quickly so they were excited.  At 8:30 we got up to leave.  It was a quick Jernstad Christmas, compared to previous years.  We did however, get the van stuck in the mud on the way down the driveway.  At least I think it was mud.

Merry Christmas everyone!