The Sandwich Generation

I've read plenty about it--the sandwich generation, but until now, I didn't understand it because I hadn't experienced it.  It's been a steep learning curve.  I'm constantly trying to find the balance between my parents' needs and my family's needs.  I certainly have not done a perfect job of it.  I find myself going before the Throne of Grace for both my parents and my children on a daily basis.  It's a very weak and humbling position in which to be, but I know it's exactly where God wants me.

Friday was a sandwich day.  I got a call about 6 a.m. informing me that my mom had been taken to the emergency room.  I got out of bed, quickly got ready, packed a hospital bag and headed out. Here's a pro tip--never  go to the hospital with a friend or relative without a bag packed with high protein snacks, a water bottle, Advil (you will get a headache while there) and plenty of reading material.

When I arrived at the hospital, Mom, true to form, thought all of the fuss was much ado about nothing.  It wasn't exactly nothing, but it could have been much worse, so we were both thankful for that.  I distracted her with stories about the kids while the doctor did his work.  I was in disbelief when they released her just two hours later.

After meeting up with the staff at mom's house and giving them the doctor's instructions, I talked with Dad who had just gotten into town.  Mom had been approved to go on a little shopping trip with Dad, so all was well.

It was nearly lunch time and I had a full day of work ahead of me at home, so I headed that direction. Grace called me on the way.  She had been asked by the woman who does my hair if she wanted to work at her salon.   First, Grace would need to pass a little test.  She would have to do a foil hair color, a long, layered cut and a buzz cut.

"Mom, do you have time to get your hair colored today?"

"Well, how long will it take?"

"About 3 1/2 hours."

Gulp.

"Grace, I'm making a turkey dinner for your brother's birthday today. . .  alright, I'll do it."

Grace was relieved.  The person she had lined up for the color couldn't make it at the last minute. Mom to the rescue.

I got home, ate a quick lunch, prepped the turkey, stuck it in the fridge and gave clear instructions on how to get it cooked (America's Test Kitchen style--breast side down at 425 degrees for 1 hour, then flip the turkey, 325 until done).  Grace grabbed all of her tools and I grabbed my hospital bag.  I was in it for the long haul.  Once my hair was done (and beautiful, I might add), Grace asked me to text my friend to see if her daughter would like a free haircut.  The only caveat--she needed to come to the salon right now.   She was game.  Yay!

Next up--the buzz cut requirement.  Before I could deal with that, however, I needed to make sure dinner was on track.  I scurried home, gave some orders to peel potatoes and made sure the rest of the menu was coming along.  It wasn't, but at least the turkey was in the oven.

Matt, Paul and I then headed out again.  Paul was to be the recipient of the buzz cut.   We dropped him at the salon and then went to go pick up Matt's car at the mechanic's before he closed.  All three of our car were in the shop last week, but that's a whole 'nother story.

By the time I got back home, my Mom and Dad had arrived.  Mom had been given clearance to join us for the evening.  My sister and brother-in-law would be over an hour in coming, but that was o.k. because I needed every bit of that time to finish making the dinner.  A big shout-out goes to Elizabeth, who was a long-suffering servant all that day.  She even taught Lydia how to make the famous family Texas sheet cake recipe.

My Dad picked up Grace and Paul at the salon right before dinner.  It had been a marathon for Grace, but we think she passed the test.  The cosmetologists at the salon were impressed with her work. We'll see how God works out the details.  Paul loved his dinner (that guy can eat!) and Joseph cried when he missed his chance to blow out the birthday cake candles.

I won't lie.  I wanted to have a good cry several times on Friday, but I didn't have time.  So instead, I threw up some arrow prayers and by the grace of God, He got me through it.  And then I had a good cry and good prayer time in the middle of the night.

 "And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus."  Phil. 4:19

Kraut, Strudel, Pfeffernusse & More

We spent a few days in farm country over the weekend.  Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna hosted our family and several other family members for their town's annual German festival.

                                            Joel, wearing his Great Grandpa's German hat

We arrived Thursday evening right around bed time.  I wanted to hit the yard sales bright and early Friday morning.  Many folks in town host yard sales over the festival weekend and I usually get some really good deals.  This year was no exception.  I nabbed a hardly used gas grill, an antique desk (a graduation present for Grace) and a Carhartt coat.  Paul was so excited that I found that coat for him. So was I.  A winter coat for Paul was on my list.

I had hoped to go to the yard sales by myself, as I usually find some good Christmas gifts for the kids amongst the treasures, but I only made it to one sale before the kids found me.  The town is small and the kids know their way around.  Once they spotted me, Lydia said, "Yay!  Now we can ride in the van!"  So I took them all to the next sale.  That sale was in a tiny garage, but we managed to cram in there.  It was an estate sale and there was a lot of stuff at great prices.  I was using all of mental capacities to decide what thing would work for what child as a gift, stocking stuffer, etc.  Matt would hate to be in my mind when I'm mulling decisions such as these.  TOO MANY WORDS.

Anyway, the kids kept coming to me and asking, "Mommy! Mommy!  Can I get this [stupid, useless piece of junk] ?"  They were interrupting my train of thought.  Exasperated, I finally asked, "How did I end up with eight kids!?"  I corrected myself, "I mean, I know how I got eight kids, but why are they all HERE right now?"

I bought each of them a small item.  They were satisfied and then headed back to the home place to leave me and the rest of the yard sales in peace.

Of course, we ate our of fill of German food over the weekend.  Sausage, kraut, kartoffel und kloss, kuchen, apple strudel, pfeffernusse, cabbage rolls and kraut ranzas.  We also enjoyed the parade, seeing the sheep (3,000!) that are eating down my Uncle's fields out at the farm and witnessing some gorgeous sunsets.

The highlight of the weekend for me, though, was getting more information about my Volga German heritage.  A man from Concordia University was in town giving presentations about the Volga Germans. I attended a couple of his talks and after the last one, I asked if he could tell me how to get started finding out how to trace my family's roots back to Germany.  He asked me my Uncle's name and then proceeded to show me a 124 page document following my family back twenty generations to the 1400s.  Alrighty then.  That saved me a lot of work.  I haven't had time to thoroughly comb through the information yet, but I was excited to put some of the bits and pieces I remember my Grandpa telling me about his parents into some sort of context.

I'd like to spend some time talking with some of the townspeople that remember my grandparents before they all pass away.  I wish that when I was younger I had cared about such things.  I have all sorts of questions for which I wish I had answers.  Anyway, I made a very good start.  What neat surprise God had in store for me this past weekend!

Jude is 7

Jude's birthday was near the end of August.  We celebrated by going to the county fair.  Jude's big day happened to fall on the fair's "Kid's Day," so it worked out perfectly.

Jude's biggest concerns were getting to ride a couple of rides and seeing the rodeo.  We fulfilled both of those wishes.  We also saw Grace's photography entries and Elizabeth's dress.  Grace accidentally entered Liz in the adult class, but Liz's dress still received a blue ribbon.  The whole family was so excited for her.

 We also dropped by the bee booth to see Lydia.  She spent a few hours that day answering people's questions about bees and giving them honey samples.  She was in her element.

Jude took the whole family to Dairy Queen for dinner with a gift card he had received for his birthday from Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane.  After dinner, we headed back to the fair to partake of elephant ears and the rodeo.

Joseph is really into horses right now, so he loved every minute of the show.  Daddy and I tried to convince Jude that we should head home at about 8:30 p.m.  No dice--he wanted to stay to the very end, so that's what we did.  Thankfully, Auntie Em and Uncle Wade watched Rachel for us during our time at the fair (almost 8 hours).

The next day, the whole family enjoyed another party for Jude at his godparent's house.  We got to go swimming and grill hamburgers (Jude never gets tired of those) and birthday cake--chocolate, with cowboys on top.
 

As You Like It (or not)

I took the two big girls to see Shakespeare's As You Like It Sunday afternoon.  I debated about taking them.  I knew that the timing was bad (canning, birthday parties, etc.) and the tickets were pricey. However, I finally pulled the trigger and asked Matt if he'd order us some tickets.

Let me just interject here.  My first experience with seeing a Shakespeare play performed live was in Ashland, OR. at the outdoor Elizabethan Theater.  I went with my high school English teacher and a few other students.  We saw Macbeth (who knew that within a few years I would marry my very own Macduff?!) and A Mid-Summer Night's Dream.  I don't think we could have seen a better combination of plays.  The performances, the costumes, the atmosphere--everything was outstanding.  So basically, every experience I've had with Shakespeare since has been disappointing.

I wish I could say Sunday's performance was different.   The play was set in modern times, which I didn't realize until after we'd purchased tickets.  I saw Measure for Measure in college at ritzy little theater in the big city.  It also was set in modern times.  It didn't thrill me.  Nevertheless, I tried to keep an open mind.  On the drive to the play on Sunday, I told the girls that at the very least, we would get a bit of culture that day.  Or something like that.

When we arrived, we realized that Matt had procured tickets for us in the front and center of the theater. We could have spat on the stage from where we sat.  I've never had any poker face abilities, so I'm sure my distaste during parts of the play were evident to the actors, who probably thought I had a very closed mind.  So be it.

While the performances were very well done (they brought in a Shakespeare troupe from the big city), the play was what I would consider PG 13. Shakespeare's comedies do lend themselves to bawdiness, but this was over the top.  Enough said. For me, the highlight of the play was Jaques' "All the world's a stage" which is a passage I had to memorize in high school.  The actress (yes, three of the traditionally male characters were played by women) did an outstanding job with that.

During the intermission, the girls and I headed out to the parking lot to eat a snack in the car.  We laughed hysterically over Elizabeth's take on the situation.  "That guy who is playing Orlando should have a size bigger pants" ('twas true),   "I couldn't look at the priest in the forest," (who was sporting plumber's crack--on purpose) and "When we go back in, I'm switching seats because the old guy next to me is a creep.  He's laughing like crazy.  It's not that funny.  Maybe a smile would be o.k., but not laughing out loud."

When the play was over (what a relief), we decided to do some thrifting.  This particular town has a great Goodwill.  The girls made a nice haul.  I talked them into heading home instead of eating out. We reached the home place around 7 p.m.  I cooked myself some of our own chicken eggs topped with Tillamook cheese, sliced myself some homegrown tomatoes and toasted a piece of Dave's Killer Sprouted Bread.  Fleur de Sel and freshly ground pepper finished the dish nicely.  A nice ending to long day, except that while we were gone, Matt decided to switch the boys' rooms around and was only midway through the project when we got home.  Oh well.  All's Well That Ends Well.

A Needle in the Haystack. . .

. . . or in this case,  Paul's heel.  Yes, Paul did it again.  He stepped on a sharp object which deeply embedded itself into his flesh.

Liz is feverishly sewing a dress which she hopes to complete and enter into the county fair this weekend.  Thus the needle on the family room floor--the needle that found its way into Paul's foot Tuesday night about 9.

After unsuccessfully attempting minor surgery ourselves (Matt with his reading glasses, me without--thank you very much), we realized it was time to consult the professionals.  The urgent care clinics in our area were closed for the night, so I gave Paul some Advil and told him to go to bed.

Yesterday morning, I left nearly 200 lbs of peaches waiting to be canned at home and took Paul to the urgent care.  Even though we arrived within a few minutes of opening time, there were already two laceration cases ahead of us.  When the doctor came in to see Paul, he explained that foreign bodies in flesh are notoriously difficult to retrieve, but he would give it a go.  I liked the doctor right from the start.  He was an older man with a pin on his white coat that said, "I treat.  Jesus heals."

First, the doctor numbed Paul's foot.  This was definitely the most painful part of the procedure, but Paul took it like a man.  As the doctor consulted the X ray he had taken to see the needle's placement, he cut an incision.  The needle had gone almost straight in. The doctor made a valiant attempt, but ended up referring us to a podiatrist. He warned us that surgery was a strong possibility.  Before we left his office, the doctor offered to pray with us and we gladly accepted.

The podiatrist was a cool guy, at least in Paul's book.  An avid hunter, his office was decorated with lots of game bird prints and not a few taxidermied birds.  He had a great sense of humor and put Paul at ease.  He told us that surgery might be the only answer, but that he would make an attempt to get the needle out then and there.  After more X rays, another injection and a deeper incision, the doctor managed to retrieve the needle, which he said was pure dumb luck, but I had been praying during the whole procedure :)

Paul now has stitches in his foot and orders to not shower for a few days.  Medical conditions do have their perks.  Not to mention the fact that his mom felt very sorry for him and treated him to lunch at Carl's Jr.  Paul also had orders to stay off of his foot for the remainder of the day, so his dad and younger brothers took over his hand line moving job last night

.  And Liz has been told to keep pins and needles off of the floor.  We shall see.

The Tale of Two Vacations--August *2014*

Alright, I found this post from last September in my drafts folder.  For the sake of posterity, I'm publishing it.

This is an overdue post on our family vacation which happened way back at the beginning of August. We went to Rockaway Beach, OR.  We spent the first few days of the vacation with Matt's side of the family and the last few days with my parents (thus the two vacations).  The weather was great and the kids had a blast playing on the beach with their cousins.
First, though, we had a looong drive to get to the beach.  Before that, there was much preparation in order to ready our crew for half a dozen days away from home.  The kids and I worked hard to get a bunch of meals prepped and frozen and to get everything packed the week before we were to leave.

In all of our studying about Lewis and Clark, I can say I felt I could relate in a smallish way to the enormity of the task Lewis faced in preparing for the expedition.  Packing a family of ten for six days with all manner of accoutrement and eventualities is no small feat.  In fact, I missed the mark.  I hadn't expected the kids to get sopping wet and sandy multiple times per day and I forgot how much fresh ocean air increases appetites.   I didn't pack enough changes of clothing (I was trying to pack as lightly as possible, hah!), so I ended up doing several loads of laundry a day while we were at the beach house.  I also did not pack enough food (I know!  Hard to imagine.) and I ended up driving to Tillamook several times to buy more groceries.

Anyway, when the big day to leave for the beach finally arrived, I think the kids were nearly ready to explode with excitement.  We piled into our very loaded van and were on the road by 8:30 a.m.  Pretty incredible for us. (Matt's brother and his family--13 in all--beat us by a landslide.  They succeeded in leaving by 6 a.m. on their day of departure.)  Our family listened to The Frontier Adventures of Elinore Stewart during the drive.  The whole family loved it.  Victoria Botkin has such a soothing reading voice.

 We stopped at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center in the Dalles on the way.  We got there just in time for their morning falconry demonstration.  My boys especially liked seeing the hawks and Bald Eagles up close.  They asked many questions of the faconers.  Later, a woman who had been to the show stopped me in the bathroom.  She said she had been an educator for thirty years and she had a question for me.   "Are your kids homeschooled?"  I answered, "Yes, they are."  She said, "I thought so.  I said to my husband, 'She homeschools those kids.' "  That was nice to hear.

 Of course, we all enjoyed seeing the Lewis and Clark cargo exhibits.  However, we did miss not being able to see the life size reproduction keel boat that we saw when we visited the Discovery Center the year of the Lewis and Clark bicentennial celebration.  The boys had a blast in the kids' room dressing up and playing with the long rifles.  We had a hard time convincing them that it was time to hit the road again, but promises of playing on the beach before dinner finally worked their magic and we got everyone loaded into the van again.

We made one more stop on the way.  We stopped at the Tillamook Forest Center.  We all climbed up to the lookout tower, where (mostly) young people took summer jobs watching for forest fires. Matt's grandfather used to be a forest fire spotter, so it was neat to tie that bit of family history to what the kids experienced while we visited the forest center.  The exhibits inside the main building were really interactive and very well done.  And it was free!  Highly recommended.

Our family was the last to arrive at the beach that evening.  Our family and Matt's brother's family stayed in a very large duplex.  Matt's parents and sister and her family stayed in the house next door. The kids never lacked for playmates.  We enjoyed big family dinners, lots of beach time with kite flying and sand castle building, eating smores', playing golf and getting to sleep in bunk beds (that was my boys' favorite.)  We managed to get a family picture with most all of us wearing the traditional Macduff family vacation T-shirts.  For this trip, Matt's sister designed a shirt with a picture of the big rock of Rockaway Beach and this verse from Genesis, "I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the sand on the seashore."

When my parents arrived, we visited the Tillamook Air Museum, got my mom on the beach with a beach wheel chair loaned to us by the local Lion's Club, collected shells and played some wild poker games (the kids and grandma).

We also visited Fort Clatsop.  It was neat to hear the older kids' memories of our first trip there.  The boys' loved the long rifle demonstration (what's not to like?) and the picnic lunch.  Joel, Jude and Isaac all filled out the necessary paperwork to get their junior ranger certificates.  Lydia wasn't able to finish hers before we had to leave (it was surprising difficult) so when she got home she finished, mailed it back to Fort Clatsop and then they mailed her a badge and certificate.  I thought that was very kind of them.

Alas, all good things must come to an end.  The kids didn't want to leave the beach, but I told them to best time to leave is when you're still having fun so that you want to come back the next time.