Good News

My dad had another scan last week in order to determine whether or not the spots in his lungs had any growth. I am happy to say that at his meeting with the doctor today he was told that there was no growth. We try to be prepared for the worst at these times, so it was nice to have a good report. He will have another scan in three months. The cancer that he has is slow growing until all-of-a-sudden it just goes crazy, so they are keeping close tabs on it.

In the past when I heard of others who had cancer, I never knew what to say or do for them. I didn't understand what they were dealing with, and just how horrible it is. Since they often have great difficulty eating during treatment, food may not be the best thing to help with (though I'm sure anything would be appreciated). I think that moral support and encouragement can help more than just about anything else in many cases. Let them know that you care. Help with housework and yardwork could be a great support at times too. ___________________________________________________________________

I am out of banana chips and chocolate, and I am sheepish to admit that this was my main motivation for making cookies today. I also knew that Everett would love it. He had a lot of fun. (Note the peanut butter goatee.) Don't ask me how many I ate. I'm still working on that self-control issue!

Sunday Activities

Today was ward conference at church. What I heard of the talks was really great, and Cary and I did a special musical number. It wasn't perfect, but it was nice to sing with Cary again. It seems that the only times I do something musical now are when I am asked. I'm always glad for the opportunity (and the reason) to play or sing--especially with my family.

Grandma and Grandpa came over for dinner, and you'd think the kids hadn't seen them in ages! They were laughing and jumping and squealing, just full of delight. There is a lot of love and excitement around here. (And face-poking, shoe removal, jumping on laps, and general child-abuse. Don't take this the wrong way: I mean abuse at the hands of children. Happily, the recipients of this treatment actually aren't bothered by it.)

A post dedicated to my Dad

I remember a lot of things my dad said when my brothers and sister and I were kids. Right now I'm remembering one particular phrase that he repeated alot: "We're not allowed to have anything nice." This was usually said matter-of-factly, and with some resignation.

The following sequence of photos is an illustration of my dad's expression, played out in my home. Though the rest of our home has fared rather well in the year-and-a-half we've lived here, I already dread the many hours of work that will have to go into repairing Everett's room before we can sell our house when the time comes.

This is where the doorstopper used to be

before Everett stood on it:

This is where Everett's closet door used to be:

This is what can happen when the paint starts to crack at a seam right over a little boy's bed:

This is what can happen when you put a child in time out with a tambourine in his hand:

This is what can happen when you leave three children playing with stuffed animals together while you are bathing your fourth child. (This was after we had replaced the blinds that had already been destroyed.):

I don't know if you can see all the little dirty fingerprints, but they are the evidence of the vent being removed repeatedly by little hands. (To see my post about one particular event, click here.)

And last but not least, I don't know how or when these happened: