AtwoodZoo

Tipping Point

Amazing but true...we have reached the "summer tipping point."

Summer break is about 80 days. I think that Monday or Tuesday was officially the halfway point, but since it's summer I am a bit too lazy to pull out a calendar and find out for sure.

Nonetheless, we are on the downhill slide and we still have a lot of summer stuff to do.

Summer stuff still to do: (I am back in a list making frenzy)

• Get out of town. We had to punt an earlier trip when The Beautiful Bride got the DVD out of her back.
• Water Park - so far we have been to zero this summer. (And the slip and slide in the back yard doesn't really count)
• Bike rides - not nearly enough
• Food from our "garden" - we will have peppers and tomatoes soon. And even though I will not even eat one tomato, it is fun to have food that came from the land of the AtwoodZoo.
• Homemade ice cream - show me the rock salt
• Manuscript - got to finish the new book manuscript and get to literary agent

That's the big stuff...still got the pool and and average of 4.7 nights with dinner from the grill.

•  

hot enough for you?

Twice yesterday someone said to me, "Hot enough for you?"

I am not sure how to answer that question.

If I say yes, it supposes some sort of support for the funky, drippy, sweat fest that is summer in Tennessee. And that is certainly not true.

But if I say no, then the person making blathering uninterested small talk would consider that I am some sort of zip-head who is content to spend every waking and sleeping moment dripping from every pore on their body. And that is certainly not true.

So my most recent response to that question is "Yuh." It is neither left nor right. So I am neither (and either) "hot enough" and/nor "hot enough."

Yes, I realize it is a (Insert the name of your least favorite politician here)-esque answer.

But at least it is honest, I think.

The nose knows...

Mabel and Kenzo had a great week of camp, could just barely keep their eyes open through Camp Rock. While they watched, I stared to unpack their suitcases. The minute I opened the first bag, a smell rushed out and immediately took me back to when I went to camp.

It was the smell of a camp suitcase.

I'm not quite sure what the smell is or if perhaps there is some sort of chemical reaction to the the combination of wet towels, stinky socks, and dirty clothes, but the second I opened their bags, the musty, funky stench instantly transported me back in time to my summer camp trips.

Any smells take you to a place in time?

Pile 'o flip-flops

This is summertime at the AtwoodZoo - a giant pile 'o flip-flops.

Dear Kenzo and Mabel

Dear Kenzo and Mabel,

Well...it's Thursday night. Hope you've had a good week at camp. Hope it's been life changing and a ton of fun and totally awesome.

See we wouldn't know...because you haven't called. Not even once.

Not that we've noticed that you have been gone approximately 84 hours without so much as a voicemail.

Because we haven't noticed. Really. Well it's more like 84.5 hours now...

Love,

Daddy and Mommy

help the good people at Walgreens get a TWO-HOUR PIZZA PARTY

Sitting in the Walgreen's drive-thru the other day (which is where I spend alot of time..) and I noticed a little stick on sign that promoted "Wacky Watermelon" syrup to give kids medicine a better taste. For $1.99. How nice, they want to help kids get better.

And then, on the back wall, I saw this sign which says, "Wacky Watermelon. $1.99...help us get a TWO HOUR PIZZA PARTY."

You mean, Walgreen's doesn't want to sell this stuff so kids can take their medicine, they want to sell this stuff so they can have a TWO HOUR PIZZA PARTY.

I'm crushed...

me and mommy and daddy

Awful quiet around the AtwoodZoo this week. Kenzo and Mabel are off to church camp.

So, according to Suzie, it's just "me and mommy and daddy."

I am just beginning to realize that it will most likely be "me and mommy and daddy" forever. Mabel and Kenzo will grow up and move on (cue the violins...) and Suzie will stay. Forever.

And most of me is really OK with that. Because she is a jewel and makes us laugh and makes us think and be thankful.

But there is a tiny part that thinks, "wow...she will probably not move out, or move on. Suzie will be here forever." And selfishly I pout. A bit.

But I also know that because of Suzie we will always have Santa Claus, and we will always "lock it on" when I get a kiss good night, and frankly I will always get a kiss good night because I fear that soon that may go extinct with "the sisters." And we will always have Dora the Explorer, and we will always ride "It's A Small World" and our refrigerator will always be covered with colored pictures, and that we will sing Cheeseburger in Paradise at the top of our lungs in the car.

And so mostly I am thrilled that it will be "me and mommy and daddy" forever. 

Go to sleep...

In seven hours Kenzo and Mabel will be getting on a bus to go to church camp. For the last hour Kenzo has been rattling around her room and the house, "I can't get to sleep."

First she needed to do something to her retainer, then she was "so hungry her stomach was eating itself," and then "just too awake." And on and on...

And I just want her to sleep. Because she is going to camp and will get about seven minutes of sleep every night and will be running ninety-to-nuthin' the rest of the time and I desperately want her to have a great time.

Cause she tends to get a bit...uhm...grumpy when she is tired.

And my explanation of why she can't watch The Disney Channel until she's ready to fall asleep and that she simply needs to get to sleep because "you'll be tired...it's a big week...want you to have fun" falls on deaf ears is answered with the ever-present "why?"

Why?

WHY?

WHY!!!!!

I wish that in times like this when she asks the "w" question I had time to launch into a review of my 40-years of life experience plus some education and a pile of mistakes and regrets, mixed with the (limited) wisdom that comes in living and being a dad and give her a big well thought out and completely honest and objective response based on facts and research...but normally I don't have that luxury, so I just have to say, "Kenzo, I'm your Dad, and that is why you have to trust me on this one."

And that is why you need to go to bed. Right now.

Because I'm dad.

(remember, you said I was the best dad in the whole world this morning...sweet dreams.)

Real all star

This kid is amazing.

Real all star

This kid is amazing.

Ripple in a pool...

Kenzo made a big ripple in a pool today.

She had her 11th birthday party and invited all her best buddies to join us at Nana and Papa's pool for a big shindig. But instead of rounding up a passle of presents for herself, Kenzo asked all her guests to bring a donation for the Compassion International "Bite Back" campaign against malaria.

According to the Compassion International website, "malaria kills 3,000 children a day, and nearly every child in sub-Saharan

Africa

will contract malaria once this year."

The $105 Kenzo's friends gave in lieu of gifts (plus $5 Kenz is kicking in from her allowance) will allow Compassion to get mosquito nets for 11 children.

Sonetimes it seems impossible to comprehend the enormity of the hunger and disease problems on the other side of the world, and therefore we think what good will the little that I can give do.

But for 11 kids in Africa the fact that 11 kids in Tennessee cared will make a huge difference.

You can do the same thing, make a tiny ripple in the giant pool, by going to Compassion International.

So your daughter was born typical...?

Suzie is spending many of her days this summer at Camp Will. It is a great program for kids of varying challenges.

In talking with one of the other parents the other day and doing the "so tell me about your child's challenges" rundown, a statement the other parent made really made em think.

I was telling her all about how Suzie got sick and with great interest and a bit of shock she said....

"So you're daughter was born typical."

After I stammered for a minute, I said "yes" and walked off. And it just reminded me that while Suzie is so much like all the kids in the different special needs programs she is part of, she is also very different.

Because she was "born typical." Most kids in special needs programs either have genetic or before-birth physiological problems, or had problems at birth.

Suzie has none of those.

She was fit as a fiddle for the first six months of her life. Not even an ear infection, until the first one which resulted in the meningitis.

Amazing how things can change in the blink of an eye, how the littlest of things (like a pesky germ) can turn a beautiful little girl from "typical" to very "untypical" in a heartbeat.

So your daughter was born typical...?

Suzie is spending many of her days this summer at Camp Will. It is a great program for kids of varying challenges.

In talking with one of the other parents the other day and doing the "so tell me about your child's challenges" rundown, a statement the other parent made really made em think.

I was telling her all about how Suzie got sick and with great interest and a bit of shock she said....

"So you're daughter was born typical."

After I stammered for a minute, I said "yes" and walked off. And it just reminded me that while Suzie is so much like all the kids in the different special needs programs she is part of, she is also very different.

Because she was "born typical." Most kids in special needs programs either have genetic or before-birth physiological problems, or had problems at birth.

Suzie has none of those.

She was fit as a fiddle for the first six months of her life. Not even an ear infection, until the first one which resulted in the meningitis.

Amazing how things can change in the blink of an eye, how the littlest of things (like a pesky germ) can turn a beautiful little girl from "typical" to very "untypical" in a heartbeat.

"Did they get that DVD out of your back?

We had talked with the girls about the surgery The Beautiful Bride was having. Tried to give them as many details as appropriate.

Suzie overheard us telling Mabel and Kenzo that "Mommy has to have a piece of a disc removed from her back" and Suzie became very concerned.

Because she was convinced that the disc in Mommy's back was a DVD.

And so the first thing that Suzie asked when we got home from the hospital this evening was, "Did they get that DVD out of Mommy's back?"

How do you answer a question like that, except to say, "uhm...yes...the doctor pushed eject."

Oh, how I love that sweet Suzie.

post op prescriptions...

Post op prescriptions for The Beautiful Bride included all the typical meds and a dozen blazing hot Krispy Kreme donuts.

Because she was such a good patient.

Kenzo's prayer tonight.

Kenzo's prayer for The Beautiful Bride...

"Dear God...I want my mommy back who dances crazy in kitchen cause I like that so much."

Amen and amen.

THIS is why they say "don't operate heavy machinery under the influence of narcotics"

Tomorrow is the big day. The Beautiful Bride is having surgery to take care of her jacked up back.

Amazing stuff this new fangled surgery. Hers is one of the "drive by" variety. In by 9:00,out by 5:00. Just like the dry cleaning.

And in case you ever wondered about why the drug companies have all the big warnings about "do not operate heavy machinery...this medicine may make you loopy as all get out...and slow your reaction time significantly" this photo should answer those questions.

Because the picture here shows some bread the Beautiful Bride put in the oven while under the influence of big time pain meds. Seems she was a wee bit slow to get it out of the oven. Can only imagine what would happen if she was behind the wheel after downing a couple of the happy pills.

We would be so honored if you would take a minute to prayer tomorrow morning...so hopefully we will end the day with a back much less jacked than when we started the day.

(And we will not set off the fire alarm toasting some bread...)

Kenzo does her first session

We are finishing up a new kids audio storybook project for NavPress and got to have Kenzo sing for us in the studio.

That was very cool for all involved. I was doubly proud cause this was her first "session" and she just stepped right up to the mic and knocked it out of the park.

Look out Hannah Montana.

Suzie's got it all in persepctive...

I love looking back through old school stuff at the end foe the year. It is a great reminder of all the happenings...good, bad, and ugly.

I saw this note that Suzie made for the first day of class one year.

The kids were all asked to fill in the blank after the statement "I am a star because..."

In her over sized, outside-the-lines, scribbly scrawl she wrote, "I am a star because Jesus Loves Me."

Yes he does Suzie....yes he does.

i am not a fancy food person...

I have been following the adventures of Randy Elrod as he  traipses through northern California eating fancy food and drinking fancy wine.

Earlier this evening as I considered his pigeon-stuffed cannelloni with a fois gras sauce and a dabbling of derryberry sherry (or some such really fancy type of food) I tossed a slab of leftover meatloaf on the grill next to the chicken.

(as a note...I had never grilled leftover meatloaf but it wasn't half bad)

And then I realized. I am happy with BBQ meatloaf. That's who I am.

I am not against all the great stuff that "fancy eaters" eat. I have eaten fancy food before and I have nothing against it. I think it all sounds good (from what I understand of what the "fancy eaters" eat what with all the bouillabaisse and essence of nutmeg and some such...)  and interesting and yes, I probably do need my palate cleansed once in a while.

But my discovery (and subsequent release from not understanding why I do not crave fancy food) is just like Jesus said in Matthew 7 "...do not throw pearls before swine..."

It is a waste to give me fancy food.

For whatever reason,(and this certainly does not diminish the fact that lots of good people are fancy eaters) I just do not really appreciate it. Maybe I have a blue-collar tongue, or I just am not sensitive enough to full comprehend how all the flavors work together. I know lots of people who do. It is just not in me to enjoy these things. 

I have finally, just tonight when I slapped that hunk of cold meat on the grill, come to peace with the fact that I am a BBQ meatloaf kind of guy. Even better if I can dip it in honey mustard dressing.

This post is part of Water Cooler Wednesdays at Randy "the fancy eater" Elrod's blog Ethos.

Heartache is universal

There is really no way to understand the pain that the family of Steven Curtis Chapman is going through today.

Just a reminder that heartache is universal. It is no respecter of power or position or prestige.

But also a reminder that hope, too, is universal.

Sometimes hope is the shadow that comes alongside heartache, present but not in the foreground. Other times hope is the sun hidden behind the clouds, ready to push through the tiniest little opening in the darkness.

But for the grieving Chapman family (and the unknown thousands and millions who are grieving for other reasons) I pray that today (or one day soon) hope will show itself as sweeping tidal wave, surrounding them on every side and reminding them that hope is always greater than heartache.

   

saving the best for last

On the next to last day of school, all the stars converged to allow Suzie to be safety patrol. While I am not certain that much "safety" was provided, she had an amazing time hanging with Kenzo, Reagan, and a cast of thousands.

I am forever thankful to the amazing teachers and aides at Kenrose Elementary school show go out of their way for Suzie. 

Last Day of School

We are nearing the last day of elementary school for Suzie and Kenzo. This is proving to be more unnerving to me than I expected.

I was in the cafeteria for lunch today and realized that this would probably be the "last time" I had lunch with them in this school where they have been for the last six years. And that the next couple of days will bring lots of lasts...

• Last recess
• Last art class wearing one of my old big over sized t-shirts
• Last time to ride a bike to school
• Last day for them to be at a school where "school dance" is not part of the social calendar
• Last time they may want their Dad to have lunch with them at school

I'm lost in the "last's" right now...

Summary of the last two days...

The Beautiful Bride's back is jacked up something fierce, and so things have gone a bit haywire...

Here are the highlights...

• Wailing and gnashing of teeth
• MRI
• Epidural steroid
• Some other shots
• Strong painkillers
• Even stronger painkillers
• Stronger than before painkillers
• A lovely casserole from a lovely Baptist friend. (because that is how Baptists show love...)

Are we having fun yet?

Life is short

My mom passed away in 1978. I was 14, and my sister 11. My mom was a great mom who got eaten up by cancer when she was way too young. And so this is the 30th Mothers Day that we did not get to share.

And while a thousand different thoughts rush though my head as I think back about how my mom would play Pong with us on the little TV in the kitchen. Or how she would sing amazing, beautiful harmonies with my grandpa and aunt. Or how she would let us eat popcorn and Pepsi for dinner on Sunday nights sometime. Mostly I am amazed at how young we were when she passed away. I guess I didn't think I was so young at the time. We packed alot of life into a few years.

But if my math is correct, my sister Jackie would have been ten coming up to eleven when we would out Mom was sick. And I see Kenzo, who is ten coming up to eleven, and I think she is too young for that kind of heartache. And that we, especially my sister, were too young for that kind of heartache.

And I wish that Kenzo and Mabel and Suzie could have met my mom cause they would have loved her.

But it was not to be.

So even my girls did not ever meet their biological grandmother, I can see her heart beating in their lives. I see it when Kenzo sings and it sounds like a chorus of angels. Or I see it when Mabel makes a "Mothers Day Buffet" breakfast menu consisting of every item in the pantry, just to serve her mother. Or I see it when Suzie rolls her head back and lets loose a torrent of giggles and laughs,

I also see my mothers heart when I see my sister love and care for her children. Even though the time we had with my mom was too short, there was enough love (and a genetic code of service and compassion) packed into those few years, it was more than enough for Jackie to become an amazing Mom.

And how I wish that my mom could see Kenzo play goalie, and taste Mabel's "fruit surprise" secret recipe, and learn from Suzie's sweet smile, but on this side of eternity that will not happen.   

Life is short. Things happen fast. Too fast sometimes. So be thankful for family. And make sure you plant memories deep inside of them so they can carry them on forever.    

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day Beautiful Bride. You're the best.

Kindergarten....middle school

Two weeks til the end of 5th grade for Kenzo and Suzie, then off to the cruel, harsh world that is middle school.

Seems like just yesterday that Kenzo screamed, at the top of her little five-year-old lungs...

"Kindergarten is just an evil plot to keep me from spending time with my Mommy."

Ahh those were the days...

What I learned today....

I learned a very important lesson today.

I learned that (despite what Kenzo and her friends think) it is not a good idea to put food coloring in bubbles.

Because even thought it may make for beautiful bubbles, it turns out that food coloring is not good for clothes.

Who knew?

Seems that The Beautiful Bride knew that piece of information. She knew it all along. She knew that putting food coloring in bubbles would lead to disaster. And frankly, I am a little disappointed that even though she was in a different part of the house talking to someone else about something else, she could have told me this important fact. But no....she did not share this useful tidbit of knowledge with me sometime before my "allowance of the food coloring in bubbles episode." But I am a big boy and I will overlook her selfish withholding of key nuggets of smartness like this.

That's just the kind of guy I am. Even though I thought we had pledged to share everything...

But I will not be bitter. I am just glad that my discovery that food coloring does not come out of "two very cute outfits from Justice" and my pain in seeing that "two very cute outfits from Justice" have now moved from the "School Clothes" place in the closet to the "play clothes" drawer can help someone, some how...

Glad to be of service, I just want to be a blessing.

The two things Mabel has heard at recent birthday parties...

Like most school age children, Mabel gets invited to a fair number of birthday parties. And as the girls are well into elementary school they (and the Beautiful Bride) have the etiquette and shopping program down pretty well.

As in the girls show up to parties with good presents. Not the lame-o ones that end up getting recycled and re-gifted. They know how to get good gifts.

But recently, as in at the last two parties that Mabel has attended, she had unsettling experiences related to the gift she gave. Unsettling as in the responses of the "giftee" was a bit...well...less than tactful.

Here are the two most recent responses to the gifts Mabel gave her friends...

• "Is this all you gave me for my birthday?"  - This statement was made right after the young lady(?) ripped the present out of Mabel's hand as she walked through the front door. And just for the record...the "all you gave me for my birthday" was a lovely set of bracelets and a necklace from Justice.
• "I already have this game." - This dandy was uttered by the youngster as she tossed the recently-opened gift ( a "cool" video game) on the floor.

Uhm...we try not to call anyone names at the AtwoodZoo, but I am thinking of a phrase about these two girls and it rhymes with "boiled cat."   

seriously, doesn't she have enough already...

Sometimes it is the littlest things that push right to the edge.

Suzie, our sweet, sweet Suzie has a raft of challenges. And there are times when I want to shake a fist at God, or fuss or scream, or question Him about all of them. And say "why...why her?" And I have done all those things...the screaming...the questioning...the crying and yelling... in the past. Many, many times. Cause it seems to me, sometimes, that she has more on her than she deserves.

When Suzie was six-months-old she had bacterial meningitis. And as a result of that tough time, she has a number of challenges:

• brain injury
• significant complex seizure disorder
• cerebral palsy
• the requisite cognitive and physical delays and shortcomings from above mentioned stuff
• lots of side effects from multiple medicines to address the issues from the above mentioned stuff.

But you want to know the one that sends me over the edge sometimes. Eczema.  Freakin' eczema. A skin rash.

But, seriously, doesn't it seem a bit like piling on here, what with her having a bad case of eczema? Shouldn't she get a pass on the simple little stuff like eczema what with her having a season pass on all the big stuff like brain injury and seizures? Shouldn't we just be able to say, "you know what, I think we can call it a day on bad stuff here. She seems to have reached her limit."

She gets the eczema bad on two of her toes and two of her fingers. And it starts to itch and bug her and we have to mess with more medicine, and sometimes I just think that "surely God, with all that she has going on, we could find a way to not have the dang eczema..."

But so far, there is no response about the eczema.

I know that God has a great and wonderful purpose for Suzie. We have seen first hand hundreds of times that her sweet, gentle disarming approach to life has changed the hearts of those more stubborn, or serious, or self-engaged. I know that He has formed every microscopic cell and every beautiful sandy-brown hair, and every one of her longer-than-average batting eyelashes...and that He has given her skin that causes eczema on two of her toes and two of her fingers.

And I know that I don't know why she has to deal with this, in perspective, tiny little itch to scratch. It just seems like she has enough already.

Is that too much for a dad to ask?

Note to self...

Note to self...

Do not let Billy Ray Cyrus oversee the photo shoot for the family Christmas card this year.

That's how she rolls...

This is sweet Suzie with her "purple bike." Yep...it's got three wheels...yep...it's got a basket...and yep...she's got a bell that she rings as she goes down the street.

And if you laugh or snicker at her cruising along on this piece of mechanical deliciousness, I will hop up on that Tremendous Tricycle of Terror and leave a trifecta trail of tire marks across your noggin...ringing the bell as I pedal away.

Cause she's my Suzie, and that's how she rolls.

Teenager eve...

So Suzie turned 12 twelve today.

Gulp.

And in a sense that is much more more true than cliche, I can't believe it has been dozen years. Seems like only yesterday we were back at Batists Hospital holding our littleone wondering "now what?"

Some thoughts from that time twelve years ago...

So I thought maybe we could just drag out this hospital thing awhile. Like maybe eighteen years. Think about it…they have food, they have TV, they have people that are nice who help with things, and most importantly the place is fat with people who really actually know stuff about babies.

Stuff  like “which end is up,” and what kinds of screams are ok and which kind of screams are not ok and most importantly of all they know why you must always and forever PROTECT THE SOFT SPOT ON THE TOP OF THE BABY’S HEAD LIKE IT IS FOUNT OF ALL THAT IS TRUE AND PURE AND HOLY. I didn’t even know that there was a soft spot, so you can see how important these people were to me.

But much to my chagrin, the hospital people were not to keen on my extended-stay plan. They had a plan too. Which, simply stated, was “you are going home tomorrow.”

            So much for my thought about the hospital being a place full of people that are really nice who help with things.

Today was the "IEP day"

Today was Suzie's "IEP day." And not just any "IEP day,"  this was her moving from elementary school to middle school IEP. This was the "leaving all we have known and become comfortable with over the last six years and toss it all to the wind and catapult her to a new school with new teachers and new everything" IEP.

And after I came home and caught my breath about all that is changing for her, I went back and read a couple of other posts about IEP's and Suzie.

This is from two years ago. And while I am still extremely nauseous about all of it, these thoughts from a couple of years ago were a good reminder of all we have to celebrate.

Tomorrow is Suzie's IEP.

For the uninitiated, an IEP is an "Individualized Educational Plan." What it boils down to is that there are stacks and stacks of laws designed to insure that disabled kids get an education that is appropriate and relevant to their needs. The IEP is the document that memorializes all of the plans, ideas, goals, expectations, notes, thoughts, etc, etc, etc.

We began having these when Suzie was three, in preschool. The goal of the IEP is to make sure that the parents (or guardians) are on the same page as the educators and that everyone is satisfied.

There have been books written about the horror stories related to IEP's. We were originally told that we ought to have an attorney and all sorts of stuff for the IEP's. Basically at this point it is us, the team of people who are involved in Suzie's education, and a few innocent bystanders.

The reality is that we are blessed to be surrounded by such a great group of people, who love our Suzie nearly as deeply as we do,  and who are committed to help her get the education and therapies that she needs to live the best, most successful life.

More often than not the IEP for Suzie is a time to celebrate how far she has come, to think back three or four years when she was really struggling, and see how faithful God has been, and how gracious He is to all of us.

As I think about though, she and the other kids who walk alongside her in the "non-typical" club are not much different from all of us in that we all have an "IEP."

God has a plan for our lives, He has given us all unique gifts, abilities, strengths, and shortcomings. We have a history that has shaped and prepared us, and a future that is full of the unknown. And accordingly He has provided for a plan that is unique to us; all that we live through and experience allow us to be ready for what may come.

And just like with Suzie, we need to celebrate the successes and not wallow in the challenges. We are all made differently; none better, none worse. All fully created by a loving God who has given us an amazing life. It is our responsibility to live to the fullest what He has planned for us.

Suzie might "write you down"

It's here again...it is Suzie's birthday week...And was we went through the list of who she "wrote down" on the list and made out the invitations, it reminded me of something from a while back about Suzie's birthday...and like I said before, maybe if you act nice, Suzie might "write you down" next year.

Well, we have finally reached the biggest week (for Suzie) of the year! It is her birthday week.

For the past two months she has been preparing. She put together a list of friends to invite on a notepad and has been referring to it several times everyday...

"You want to know who is coming to my party?"

"You want me to read you the list?"

And then, just as she has a hundred thousand times over the past couple of months, she launches into the her invitation list...

"Meghan, and Madeline, and Reagan, and Little Danielle, and Abby, and the other Abbi, and ...." and on and on it goes.

And then I ask her if I'm invited to the party. And every time she points to her list and says , "I wrote you down." Which means I am invited. Cause if she "writes you down," that is a huge deal in the world of Suzie party planning. And then later this week Suzie and a handful of friends that she "wrote down" will gather at Chuckie The Rat to play and celebrate.

Her parties are especially interesting. Firstly, because there are very few 11-year-olds having their birthday parties with Chuckie, and secondly, because there is always such a curious grouping of people. She will have pre-school kids, and 4th grade kids. She will have "typical" kids and kids with Down syndrome. She will have autistic kids and "regular" kids and wheelchair kids and everything-in-between kids. And there will be some kids that are not exactly sure why Suzie invited them because they don't spend a lot time together, but once Suzie "writes you down" on her list, you are destined to attend. And there might be a few kids this year who will feel a bit self-conscious because they will be the only 11-year-olds singing happy birthday to a classmate at Chuckie Cheese.

But I am not concerned about that, because Suzie will be smiling. And when she is smiling, the world is good.

So for now, we are on countdown to party. (And high-level prayer alert, because it seems that every year around her party the seizures start to ratchet up...one time, a couple of years ago she had a bad seizure at the top of the stairs and fell all the way down as she was having the seizure...so she spent the evening at Vanderbilt instead of with Chuckie...)

And if you see a smiling eleven-year-old having her party with Chuckie the Rat later this week, come by and say "Happy Birthday."

Cause if you do...maybe next year she'll "write you down..."

we've got a turtle

The AtwoodZoo is officially one animal larger today.

Seymour the turtle joined us. We discovered this handsome, yet clearly misguided box turtle on our driveway today. So we rounded up a large plastic tub, plopped in some grass, water, a couple of sticks, a carrot (i added that for some reason - maybe I forgot that Seymour was a turtle,not a rabbit) and then made a run to PetSmart for "turtle  food."

So Seymour, with a belly full of pre-fab tortoise pellets, is sleeping away in his plastic tub on the back porch. I wonder what he thinks of pre-fab tortoise pellets. Pretty sure he has never had them before. (My guess is he will be with us three days and then back to the creek.)

Just another exciting day here at the AZ.  You never know what will show up in the driveway. This afternoon it was two cars full of kids. But that is another story.

Deep ...in a deep dark hole...

Sometimes there is more to life than what you see.

Case in point. During our little cave adventure last weekend, the tour guide showed us the giant chandelier hanging in the Cave.

Seems that the chandelier was built in Europe in the late 1800's. The chandelier is stunning, with brilliant light streaming through the thousands of hand carved crystals.

And I thought, I wonder, if in their wildest dreams, the guys who used so much time to hand carve these crystals, ever though that the thing would end up hanging in a cave in 300 feet below the surface of the earth in the middle of Tennessee.

And if by some chance, they knew that their beautiful chandelier was destined to light cave one day, would they have made it.

Probably not.

I contrast that with the amazing beauty and detail that God put in every inch of the cave. And He knew that only a relative handful of the people who ever lived on this earth would ever see the intricacies of the deep recesses of this hole in the ground.

But still, He chose to decorate the inside of this cave in an amazing way.

And unlike the guys who made the chandelier who, if they had been told that their masterpiece was destined for a dirt hole would have most likely said, "why don't you just run by Wal-Mart and grab a couple of lamps" He said I am going to make this dirt hole a masterpiece, even if it is just seen by a few people.

Because I am God, and that is what I do.

I'm not sure where all of this is headed, just that I think I need to trust the One who made the caves because He has thought out things in a bigger, more spectacular way than I ever could imagine.

Two kinds of people in this world

On Friday Mabel and I went to cave with a group of kids from church.

This was my first time to spend any amount of time underground.

And I learned an important thing that night. There are two types of people in this world. Crazy people who like squirming through tight spaces while being trapped in a hole of limestone 300 feet under the ground. And normal people.

I am a normal person.

If anyone ever again asks me to sleep on top of rocks, beneath a ceiling of rocks, with a pile of rocks for a pillow, I am pretty sure I will say "no, I cannot go."

And if for some reason, any of you hear me say, "sure, I think I will go back in a cave" just hit me in the head with a rock to jar me memory.

seemed like a good idea at the time...

headed out to sleep in a cave with Mabel and a bunch of kids from church. Supposed to be cool. Sure it will.

What's not to love...sleeping on rocks...crawling tiny spaces...a herd of third and fourth graders.

If you're looking for me, I'll be the grumpy one with squinty eyes cutting the grass on on Saturday afternoon

I said it...

I think maybe I had a mental list of things that I wouldn't say as a dad...things I think that perhaps my parents said to me, or maybe just things I've heard others talk about.

Some of the obvious things that I promised myself wouldn't say as a dad:

• This is going to hurt me more than you.
• Well if (insert name here) was going to jump off a bridge/jump into a lake would you do that too?
• Back when I was your age...

I'm sure there are hundreds....

But tonight....oh tonight....

I said the mother-of-all the things that I promised myself wouldn't say as a dad.

What, pray tell, is that?

I said....

"You'll put your eye out with that."

A kid up the street was walking around with a new BB gun, Kenzo asked if she could shoot it, and before I could gather my thoughts I said "you'll put your eye out with that."

What's next... "I didn't need all those fancy electronics when I was a kid...i was just happy to have a rock and a stick...that was all I needed to keep me happy.

Now just exactly why is the fridge in the middle of the kitchen...

Came home late from a meeting and found the refrigerator in the middle of the kitchen...and the question is "why?"

Now I will have to wait til the morning to get the real (probably pretty mundane) answer, so I came up with thoughts of my own why the refrigerator is in the middle of the kitchen.

1. A band of tiny gypsies cleans the kitchen each night and I disturbed them in the middle of cleaning behind the fridge.
2. The house tilted to the left for a short while and the fridge just rolled out.
3. Suzie decided to hide the Easter Eggs in a real hard to find spot.
4. The fridge was thirsty,wanted a drink of water and was on it's way over to the sink when it remembered, "hey...I'm a fridge...i have a water faucet on the front of me."
5. Maybe one of the girls spilled a drink between the side of fridge and the counter and felt compelled to move the fridge, get a mop, and clean up the mess...nah, that's crazy talk...more likely that the band of gypsies was cleaning.

If you do just one thing new this week....

Here's one thing to add to your "to-do" list for the week. Go to lunch with your kids. At the school. And eat the tater tots. Or haystacks. Or beef nuggets.

Tell them in the morning at breakfast, "I'm coming to your school to have lunch with you today." And if you have more than one kid at school, just hang around the cafeteria as long as it takes to spend time with each one of them.

And if you're feeling extra crazy, stuff a $5 bill in your child's hand and let them buy ice cream for their table. Five bucks and they can be the star of the 3rd grade.

I try to do this about once a month. I guarantee you will be a hero, and most likely the only dad in the place.

Webkinz plus High School Musical = Brilliance

Webkinz + High School Musical = Brilliance. Kenzo and Mabel stumbled onto something big the other day. They had their Webkinz act out scenes from High School Musical 2.

Better than the old Reese's Peanut Butter Cups "you put your chocolate in my peanut butter." This is "you put your Webkinz in my High School Musical." In the picture you can see Mabel getting her Webkinz to act our the opening scene of HSM2. "What time is it....summertime."

Combining two of the things that make the world go round for eight to ten-year-old girls.

Sheer brilliance...now if I can just get funding to do the feature.

Short bus - Big bus

Suzie is going on a field trip tomorrow. Back on the short bus to the middle school.

This afternoon Suzie and I ran out to do a couple of errands, and at one point we passed a school bus. She said, "I ride the little bus to school." I nodded my agreement, then recalled a short bus/big bus conversation we had several months ago.

Suzie     "Daddy, I ride the little bus?"

Me         "Yes you do, honey,."

Suzie      (thinking deeply) "Daddy....?"

Me          "Yes."

Suzie       "I ride the little bus to school, but when  Jesus comes He will need the Big Bus. Is that right?"

Me            "Yes I think he will need the Big Bus."

What was that???

Every night at bedtime, Suzie likes to have about ten stuffed animals, plus Boomer the dog, join her in bed. She gets snuggled down under the covers with all the animals around her head, and Boomer "down by her piggies."

Last night, as she was getting settled, one of the animals fell off the bed. Remember now it was a stuffed animal. Suzie sat straight up and said "what was that?"

She had heard the teeny-tiny fluffy sound of the stuffed animal hitting the carpeted floor. I was right there getting her tucked in and I didn't hear it. But she did.

The amazing thing about this, to me, is that when she was hospitalized with the bacterial meningitis when she was six months old, one of the things the doctors kept cautioning us about was the likely loss of hearing. They said that was a very typical side effect of the meningitis.

Well Suzie's hearing is perfect. Probably better than most. She can hear a stuffed animal falling three feet onto the carpeted floor.

I think that her hearing is just a reminder from God that He has made us all as individuals. There is a not a template or a manufacturing process or a standard. We are all unique, all individuals, all specially made for a special purpose.  The thing that the doctors said would most likely be a challenge for Suzie is a strength for her.

It is just fun, even as we wade through all the challenges she has, to be reminded that none of us is bound by the expectations of other people, rather we are simply defined by God and who He made us to be.

Thoughts and stuff overheard while standing in line for the Hannah Montana movie extra's sign-up

We were there. From 11:45 am - 2:00 pm. When they passed out cards to everyone and shooed us all off. And so here are my thoughts (and a couple of overheard conversations) from our brief (compared to many other maniacs) time in line.

• There is a lot of monkey-like grooming going on. As in people picking stuff out of other people's hair.
• Justice could easily be the "official clothes provider for people standing in line to be in a Hannah Montana movie."
• The most common expression used when people rounded the corner and saw the length of the line..."OH MY GAHHH....."
• It was ironic that Charlton Heston passed away today. He could have been of great use parting the crowds.
• There were a scary amount of parents of young children carrying around GIANT professionally-photographed portfolios of their (according to my vantage point) very average looking kids. And they were showing them to anyone who would look.
• My thoughts about why the parents were showing all the different wind-blown pics of their kids...1)trying to "psych out" the competition; or 2)trying to justify in their minds whey they had spend hundreds/thousands of dollars on scary pics of their kids.
• Overheard two 11-year-old girls as they walked in between the throngs of people "So I was like, she got a phone when she was nine and I had to wait til I was eleven. What's up with that?"
• Overheard a conversation between a mom and what looked to be about a seven-year-old. "When we are done here I'll take you to your dads and you can go to Hooters and get some lunch."
• Overheard a mom to daughter as they were getting in line..."if for ANY REASON you want to leave, I am just fine with that."
• And the the philosopher in the group said to a friend, "We are closer to the end than the beginning."

Reflecting on Hannah Montana...

as in ..."do we really want to wait another hour to be one of thousands singned up to be in the Hannah Montana movie?"

would you believe....

Tonight, one of Mabel's buddies was over to play, and in the course of discussion, she shared a very important observation...

"Would you believe that my dad once had hair?"

And she said it in a tine of voice that was so honestly incredulous you might have thought she was asking, "Would you believe that my dad was once abducted by circus monkeys?"

Deep thoughts...from Mabel

The following "Deep Thought" came from sweet little Mabel, as she was trying to categorize the bodily sounds that one of her sisters makes... (to protect the innocent, and/or the guilty, I'll leave out the name...)

"She's a tooter, not a burper."

Nice. Real nice.

Truth is, Mabel is right...her sister is a "tooter."

Now THIS is brilliant...

Most every evening we get a little push back around bath time..."Daddy, I'm not dirty..." "Daddy...we just took a shower last night..." "Daddy...I don't want to..."

And the dance goes on for a moment. With the requisite fussing and the disdain and the disinterest in cleanliness. And a rising level of frustration among all parties.

But one night The Beautiful Bride had the most amazing thought...

After we give the the call to tub, and begin to hear the girls give their typical chorus of "the top reasons I do not need to clean myself tonight" our new quick and easy reply is "Well then just smell your sister's feet...OK, how do they smell?"

The reply is always, "Yuck....they are nasty..." "To which we can say, "Right, and she took a shower last night just like you, so you can just imagine that your feet are equally funky. Go hop in the tub."

And they are left in an indefensible position. Brilliant.

It is this sort of brilliance (along with her accompanying hotness) why I begged the The Beautiful Bride to marry me....