HOW WHITE TRASH FOLK CELEBRATE MEMORIAL DAY

AKA: WHEN YOUR PARENTS ARE TOO CHEAP TO PUT IN A SWIMMING POOL


AKA: THE POOR MAN’S VERSION OF THE DUNK TANK

















obviously, we have forever lost the battle against the tongue hanging out of the mouth .... Kendrie and Kellen are both lost causes




Hope you have a WONDERFUL Memorial Day!!!

PS. To our fellow military families, past, present, and future ..... thank you!

I’M BAAA-AA--AAA CK!

No, despite what you might think, I’m not so vain that I feel updating this site is worthy of the Hallelujah Chorus. The Chorus, instead, is intended to properly portray the attitude I have today, as opposed to the way I felt the week following the delivery. It's as if a televangelist thwacked me on the forehead and today …. I choose life. Like coming out of the world’s worst hangover and discovering the birds are still singing and the flowers are still blooming and I do, indeed, have reason to go on living. You know, a minor attitude change like that.

I’ll post more details later (and I promise not to take a week this time) but for now, rest assured that no story from the Escoe Camp would be complete without something bizarre happening. At the very least, I can promise fire trucks and ER visits for pretty much everyone in our family.

In the meantime, please join me in welcoming God’s newest littlest blessing:

Nicolas Ryan




Born: May 18, 2006

Weight: 10 lb 2 oz

Length: 22 inches

To all of you crazy people in the guestbook who have been guessing 12 and 13 pounds ---- WERE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME????? I thought 10 pounds was pretty impressive, but after reading about all the rest of you and your giant mutant babies, I’m thinking it’s not so remarkable after all!

Thanks for sticking with me through this week of no updates …..

KELLEN’S TAKE ON THE WHOLE SITUATION

Cover:




Page 1:





Page 2:





Page 3:






And then the little shit had the nerve to charge me $2.99 for the privilege of BUYING the book from him!!!





Well, we’re having a wee bit more than twinges here, which is why you’re getting this update at 3 in the morning. My not-too-bad-now-but-getting-stronger-all-the-time desire for pain medication is tempered only by the fear of calling my girlfriend in the middle of the night to come watch my kids, waking my mom up, waking up the baby’s parents, and everyone driving the half-hour to the hospital, only to be told I’m not really in labor; go back home.

So I think I’ll sit here and pant and swear under my breath a little while longer, at least until a more humane decision-making time. Like 4 am. Then it will DEFINITELY be time for the epidural. Or at least if I’m sent home from labor & delivery in shame, it will be at an hour reasonable enough we could stop somewhere and have breakfast.

Wish me luck!

RANDOM TUESDAY RAMBLINGS

Update on Blaine: As of today, he has finished half (eight) of his sixteen total radiation treatments. We’ve been lucky and have found some people online who are willing to share their experiences with us, but it’s still a little frustrating because everyone we have “met” has had traditional x-ray radiation, whereas Blaine is having neutron beam radiation, and comparing the two is like comparing apples to oranges. But at least it’s good to have *something* to go by. We know the side effects he is experiencing at this point in treatment are most likely all normal, although to be honest, they are starting to get a little rough.

The specialized location of the radiation zaps the salivary glands, reducing them to non-functioning. Imagine the dry mouth from the worst hangover of your life, and then multiply it by ten. THEN add another zero, and try to go through each day, sleep through the night, or eat anything in that condition. The term “I don’t even have enough spit to swallow” has taken on a whole new meaning for the poor guy. Luckily, since Blaine is only getting radiation on one side of his head, the doctors are hopeful that he will regain salivary function on the other side at some point in the future. Besides the convenience function, did you know saliva contains enzymes that keep your teeth healthy? That’s why so many head & neck radiation patients wind up losing their teeth afterwards. So we’re extra hopeful one side begins working again. In the meantime, they’ve got him on a special medication to promote gland function, and he’s drinking like there’s no tomorrow. (Well, I guess technically if you were drinking like there was no tomorrow, you’d be downing the gin and tonics …. And he’s guzzling milk and water. But you get my drift.) In fact, his comment to me was, “Now I understand why you complain when you’re pregnant about getting up to use the restroom four and five times each night.”

He’s having some nausea, which they are giving him Zofran to combat. (Hey, he and Kendrie will have something else in common!)

The worst side effect so far, though, are the burns in his mouth, throat and nose. The sunburn on the outside, he says, is nothing compared to the burns on the inside …. pretty much par for the course with radiation, from what we’ve heard and read. He says it hurts to talk, eat anything with any kind of spice or acid in it (and did you know that even a nutritional beverage like Boost has salt and acid in it? Blaine found that out the hard way) and it’s difficult to sleep, so he’s up a lot at night, which makes him fatigued during the day …. Vicious cycle.

As I understand it, after these sixteen treatments, he will have received his lifetime maximum dose of radiation and it will no longer be an option for further treatment, if it’s necessary. We won’t know for four months, the time of his next set of scans, whether or not this worked, or how well. Now I understand a little better the frustration of waiting for scans that all the parents of kids with medulloblastoma, neuroblastoma, etc, must feel. On the one hand, I can’t wait for the scans so Blaine can get the “all clear”. On the other hand, I’m nervous for him to get the scans because what if this didn’t work? Look up ambivalence in the dictionary, and you’ll find the photo of a cancer patient in just this situation, I imagine.

But the good news is that all of these side effects should be temporary, and at least for now, he is still able to eat. Avoiding a feeding tube is one of his top priorities. That, and dating a supermodel sometime in his life.

He asked me to tell all of you that he appreciates the good thoughts and prayers. He’s checking this site from the computer at the hotel and sees the kind notes in the guestbook ---- so thank you for the support! I’ll keep you posted as more happens.

Update on Kristie: Fat. Waddly. Excited it’s almost over. Sad it’s almost over. My mom is flying in today and of course the kids are ecstatic to see Grandma again. The baby’s parents are flying in tomorrow; final doctor’s appointment on Thursday; and we’ll be induced sometime Friday. Out of respect for the family’s privacy, I won’t post a lot of details, but I will let everyone know how things have gone as soon as I get home from the hospital. Hopefully that will be Saturday; Sunday at the latest, because I am leaving on Monday to fly to Seattle and join Blaine. And hey! If taking a post-partum cross-country flight to help my radiated husband through his final treatments doesn’t just scream FUN, then I don’t know what does!! But I also appreciate the kind comments and warm thoughts.

So, on to my Tuesday ramblings:

Most Bizarre Moment this Week: I went into a public restroom in the mall yesterday and thought the room was empty, except for perhaps the far stall whose door was closed. I sat down, minding my own business, and then heard, “Hello?” I sat quietly …. Were they talking to me? Again, “Hello?” so I tentatively responded, “um, hello?” Then I heard, “Who’s that?” Again, hesitantly, I replied, “its Kristie” All I could think was maybe this lady needed toilet paper or something ….. Then I heard, “What did you say?” and I realized she wasn’t talking to me, she was talking on a cell phone! Who **does** that? Who goes into a public restroom stall and sits on the toilet to make a phone call? Am I the only one who thinks that is bizarre? Plus I felt like an idiot for answering her.

Moment this Week When I Most Questioned My Own Taste: I went into Kirklands yesterday to buy some home decorations I had been admiring …. Three metal-brass-something-ish stars to hang in the entryway. I was standing back, admiring my good taste while the cashier rang them up, and the lady in line behind me said, “Those are neat … are you having a Western Party?” For the second time that day, I wondered, “Is she talking to me?” so I turned around and sure enough, she was looking at my stars. A Western Party? What do stars have to do with a Western Party? Does my entryway now look like the hallway of the Ponderosa????? Will I be startled if Little Joe himself sits down in the living room and watches tv with us later???

Most Nostalgic Moment this Week: I was browsing through the music store at the mall and for whatever reason wound up in the “S” section, and I spied, with my little eye, a copy of one of my favorite cd’s from long ago (of course, back then it was a cassette) Survivor’s Vital Signs. Oh, how I used to love that cd. I immediately bought it and have been playing it non-stop ever since. I'd put a song from it on the site, but it's late and I'm just too lazy. But I have been digging it the past few days.

Most Cringe-Worthy Moment this Week: OHMYGAWD!!! I just remembered that the period in my life when I listened to this album was right after my freshman-year-of-college boyfriend dumped me and broke my heart! Worse, I took all the sappy love songs off the cassette and MADE HIM A COPY AND MAILED IT TO HIM! WITH A LETTER TO TELL HIM I WOULD PINE AWAY FOR HIM FOREVER!!! OH DEAR HEAVENS THE MORTIFICATION THAT I WAS EVER SUCH A DORK AND DID SOMETHING SO INCREDIBLY HUMILIATING!!! I AM SO EMBARRASSED JUST REMEMBERING WHAT I DID THAT I MUST TELL YOU ALL NOW AND SHOUT ABOUT IT IN ALL CAPS!!! (Dear Lord, please let a tornado have hit his house and while not causing any real damage or injuring anyone, please have let the tornado suck away that tape and humiliating letter because I would just die if I thought it still existed in print.)

Most Are You Kidding Me? Moment this Week: I was getting my nails done (I know! I can’t bear the thought of a massage or anyone touching me, in any way. Ever. Yet I get my nails done. Believe me, sitting there for half an hour while someone else holds my hands is about all I can handle and even then, some days I want to just jerk my hands away, but that would be rude, so I don’t.) and the tv was on in the salon, turned to The Bold and The Beautiful soap opera. Did you know that Mario Lopez, that kid from Saved By The Bell, is now playing a doctor on that soap opera???? I mean, come on. The Saved by the Bell kids as serious actors?? First you had Tiffani Amber Thiessen on Beverly Hills 90210, then Elizabeth Berkley in that God-Awful Showgirls. Now I’m supposed to believe Slater is some kind of neurosurgeon? What’s next? Screech as Othello???

Most “Well, *that* was awkward” Moment this Week: I dropped my cell phone in the Kroger parking lot and it bounced under the car next to mine, right about the middle of the trunk, a good two or three feet inside from every edge. I can barely squat down at this point in the pregnancy, let alone bend over and pick up a cell phone from underneath a car. So I had to stand there until some lady pulled up on the other side, and then ask her if she would mind getting my cell phone for me. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but from the look she gave me, you just know she thought I was either panhandling, or about to give her a Jesus pamphlet right there. Really, I don’t think being connected in the digital age is worth it. Especially with reception as spotty as mine is.

Most Proud Moment this Week:

Was it when Kellen got up to bat and hit a home run in last night’s game? (Never mind that he was the first batter at bat and no-one else was on base ….. one run is better than none, right?)



When Kellen perfectly fielded the ground ball that came his way? (Holy crap, is that tongue hanging out of his mouth? Here we go again………..)




When Kellen easily beat the runner to first base after fielding said ball?





When Kellen ran up and caught a fly ball with the greatest of ease??




No, it was the moment AFTER Kellen caught that fly ball, and I was sitting in my chair, pumping my arm in the air, doing the WOOT-WOOT yell like Julia Roberts did in Pretty Woman, when suddenly, I saw a stray ball out of the corner of my eye, headed right for my head. It happens occasionally, with the ball fields so close together. Although I was a little offended that no one bothered to yell “Heads Up!” as a warning, I managed to flinch, duck, jerk my body around, almost overturn myself in my chair, and escape just in the nick of time …. Only to realize ….. to my horror ….. that the white round thing I saw headed towards my head was not actually a Ball, but the flab from my upper arms gyrating around while I was making the appropriate arm gestures to go with the WOOT-WOOT cheer.

There was no real way to explain what had just happened to the parents around me who were clearly startled by my sudden chair-calisthenics, so I played it off with a loud comment about “A bee! I thought I saw a bee!” and then tried to act for the rest of the game like nothing happened. How embarrassing.

So, are you waiting for a clever remark to tie all my random thoughts together here at the end? Because I can’t think of one. Which pretty much sums up the word random. The End. :)

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO YOU, TOO

Kendrie -- Day 150 OT
Blaine -- Still hanging in Seattle, but not feeling quite as perky as he was

I was so encouraged by the comments in the guestbook from the other parents who chimed in on “loving one kid more or at least claiming to on a regular basis” from Friday’s journal entry, and I’m happy to know my kids will have lots of friends in therapy some day. Ya’lls guestbook entries always make me smile …. I think I get a bigger kick from reading those, and hearing from you guys, than I get from actually writing the journal entries some days. Most days, I get a fair amount of hits on this site (well, "fair" by my standards, anyway) and not very many guestbook entries. So thanks for letting me know!

Today, as you know, is Mothers Day. Invented by {insert historical characters name here, I don’t even know who} and marketed to death by Hallmark and FTD. My day has actually gone pretty well. I was awakened by giggling children … no, scratch that. Technically, I was awakened by an insane dog who apparently had to go outside to use the restroom three times between 6 and 7 am ……. making me wonder if grabbing a hacksaw and cutting an impromptu doggie door between my bedroom wall and the backyard would greatly depreciate the value of the house.

After that, I lay there and pretended to be asleep, as per the instructions I received from my children last night, in preparation for whatever “special” thing it was they had planned. So, the day began with them bringing me breakfast in bed, a gourmet meal that would surely have Martha Stewart sobbing in jealousy; cold toast served on a paper plate and lukewarm milk. I professed my greatest appreciation and choked down a few bites, then we proceeded to the living room where I was bestowed with gifts worthy of a queen: several hand-painted candle holders and a new sleep shirt decorated with magic markers, courtesy of the arts & crafts building from Camp Sunshine a few weeks ago, a purple vase that Kendrie apparently bought at the dollar store (thank you, Renee’, for taking them, that was very nice of you. But next time …. Pier One, maybe, or Crate and Barrel???), a necklace that Kellen bought direct from the Mr. T line of Jewelry for Beautiful and Gaudy Women, which will come in handy the next time I star in a 50 Cent video, and the final gift, two books Brayden purchased with her own money from our School Book Fair last week ---- two of the books I had actually DONATED to the fair myself.

So there you have it, proof positive that my children love me beyond measure and harbor little to no resentment for all the yelling and fussing that has gone on lately. So far today, I managed to remain calm when Brayden spilled not one, but two glasses of milk on the rug (and then she acted offended when I suggested perhaps she should go back to drinking from a sippy cup!), when the kids fought over what movie they wanted to watch (Hello??!?! Whose day is it, people?!??! Someone check the calendar!!!) and when I vacuumed the rug, only to have it littered with granola bar wrappers, goldfish crumbs, and empty Capri Sun drinks not ten minutes later.

I did not, however, remain calm when the kids tried to watch old home movies while I was attempting to take a nap. (I know, what was I thinking?) Apparently the tape got stuck and while trying to cram, force, gently insert it into the camcorder, the entire top of the camcorder popped off, completely unfixable and all three of them insisted on waking me from my nap to swear *they* were not the one who did it.

Never mind that Blaine and I have had that camcorder for ten years and it’s probably the only one on the planet that still uses 8mm tapes. We’ve been talking about buying a new one for a few years ….. so even my griping then about how come nothing ever stays nice around here and everything always winds up broken or dirty or in a million pieces, was a little half-hearted.

Well, I had planned to make Shrimp Fried Rice for dinner tonight, but its 4pm and Kellen is bugging me to go to McDonalds, so now I’m thinking I’ll let Ronald cook for me this evening. Even if it’s only a McFish Filet, at least I wouldn’t have to fix it, right? Which is the beauty of Mothers Day, cold toast and all.

Happy Mothers Day to you, too!

SHINING, HAPPY MOMENTS FROM THE MOTHERING HALL OF FAME

AKA: PROOF POSITIVE THAT I SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED OR TRUSTED TO RAISE GOLDFISH, LET ALONE HUMAN PETS

Kendrie -- Day 147 OT
Blaine -- Hanging tough in Seattle

Growing up, there was never any doubt that I had zero desire to go into teaching, tutoring, mentoring, education, instruction, coaching, training, or any kind of childcare or home daycare. Why? Because Lord knows I don’t have the patience. Yet, I thought it would be ok for me to have children of my own???? What the **heck** was I thinking???

Specific examples of why my children will need therapy when they are older. Or maybe sooner than I think:

#1. Kendrie was playing in the backyard the other day in her favorite tennis shoes and stepped in dog poop. She ran into the house, still wearing said shoes, tracking said poop on our new living room rug, to tell me about it. Exasperated, I told her to take OFF the shoes and leave them on the back patio. The poop would harden somewhat overnight and in the morning I would clean off the bottom of her shoe. Seemed like a foolproof plan at the time. Unfortunately, it rained a little that night. The next morning, the poop was a runny mess on the bottom of a soggy shoe. A shoe that Kendrie was emphatic she wanted to wear to school. While I did go ahead and clean the shoe, very unhappily, I might add, it wasn’t with the cheeriest of dispositions. No one-sided conversation has ever taken place at a kitchen sink with as many variations of the word SHIT inserted as I put forth that day. Perhaps I can still be a role model for my children. Just not before 8am and not if dog poop is involved.

#2. Around here, we have a system where every day is assigned to a kid. Families with only two children, I suppose, could do an even-odd day system, but since we have three kids, we just go in order. For example, if Monday is Brayden’s day, then Tuesday is Kellen’s, Wednesday is Kendrie’s, and Brayden starts over again on Thursday. It just goes continuously and I mark the calendar every month. Whoever's day it is, that person gets to choose which tv channel they watch, take their bath first at night, pick where they want to sit in a restaurant if we go out to eat, select which color bowl or plate they want with their dinner (yes, my kids argue over stuff as inane as that) …. Etc. You get the picture. We’ve been doing it for about two years now and it actually works pretty well at eliminating some of the arguments whining discussion over “She got to choose last time” or “It’s my turn to pick”.

Earlier this week, I took the kids with me to Kroger. At our local Kroger, the empty carts are kept outside the store (you might remember my rant a while back about all the carts being out in the rain one night and me taking some of Kendrie’s steroid frustration out on the poor innocent bagger whose bad luck it was to be standing there as I came inside with my wet cart and wiped it off with hand towels from the restroom) and as we walked up, the following conversation took place:

Kristie, “Whose day is it?”

Brayden, “Mine”

Kristie, “OK, would you go over there and get us an empty cart?”

Kendrie, “No fair!”

Kristie, “It is fair, it’s her day. You know how it works”

Kendrie, “How come I never get to push the cart? How come we never go to the store when it’s MY day?”

Kristie (feeling exasperated), “Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’m not going to let her push the cart in the store, I just want her to walk over there and get one.”

Kendrie (stomping feet, stopping at the door, and crossing arms against her chest) “I’m not going inside if she gets the cart!!!”

Kristie, “Get inside the store now, I’m not having this discussion with you.”

Kendrie, “It’s not fair, it’s not fair! Brayden always gets to do things on her day and I never do!”

Kristie, “I can’t help that today is her day. That’s just the way it worked out.”

Kendrie (voice at an intolerable whining level now, in the middle of the produce section) “You always choose fun things on Brayden’s day, why does she always get to do stuff?”

At this point, I had had it. Annoyed, frustrated, and losing what small bit of patience I indeed posses, I threw back over my shoulder as I walked off:

“Because I love her more.”

Yes. That’s right. I said it to one of my children, IN PUBLIC. I’m surprised the Gods of Fair Parenting didn’t smite me down right there next to the bananas.

As soon as I said it, the guilt began. Even though I was being sarcastic, it was wrong to say, as evidenced by the 6-yr old tears that had already started. Thus began an immediate rectifying conversation about what sarcasm entails, and did she REALLY think that I love one kid better? Honestly? Truly???? I knelt down right there in produce and made sure she understood. Although *I* know that **she** knows that I didn’t mean it, I did feel terribly guilty for even saying it sardonically. Really, shouldn’t parents …. Especially ADULT parents, know better?

#3. Blaine, I must confess, is a much better housekeeper than I am. And the kitchen is most certainly his territory. I cook almost every night, and he cleans. It’s a long-standing arrangement we’ve had, that has worked well for us since we were first married. Now that he’s gone, I admit that it’s the one chore I hate doing the most. I can take out the garbage, get my van worked on, water the yard, sweep, vacuum, whatever I need to do, but I despise cleaning up the kitchen each evening.

Last night, after dinner, I had the kids take showers, and I was helping with homework and reading. The dishes from dinner were still on the counter when a rainstorm came through and “POP”, our cable box was hit by lightening. My normal routine is after I put the kids to bed, I get online for about an hour, then clean up the kitchen and go to bed myself. Since we had no computer last night, or tv, I thought to myself, you know what? I'm tired, and I’m going to bed, too. The kitchen mess will still be there in the morning.

And boy, was it. It looked even worse in the glaring light of morning. Dishes that hadn’t even been rinsed, let alone put in the dishwasher. Glasses still half full of milk, sitting on the counter, and a half of a homemade chicken pot pie that I forgot to put in the fridge. Ga-ross! I was standing there, berating myself for being so lazy the night before (but berating myself in a well-rested fashion because I got eight full hours of sleep.) Kendrie walked in the kitchen, took a good look around, and announced to me, “Ewww. It looks like we live in a troll’s house.”

Ok, that really didn’t help things any.

#3. Fast forward to thirty minutes later. The kids, dressed and ready for school, had gone out in the backyard to get the dog some fresh water. Brayden came back inside, and thanks to that little rainstorm last night, tracked mud all over (you guessed it) our new living room rug …. Which at this point, is seriously not looking so new anymore.

I glanced around, trying to locate all the mud damage so I could clean it up, and saw toys on the floor, and book bags strewn about, and shoes and dirty laundry and now here comes the dog with more mud on his paws ………. AND …… I ….. JUST …… SNAPPED.

I’m not really sure what came over me. I made all the kids sit down at the kitchen table, and then I just went off. About how there are five people living in this house, but only two of us ever do anything around here, and one of those people is gone and so now I’m doing everything and I’m sick of it. SICK OF IT DO YOU HEAR ME????? And you know what the little rugrats had the audacity to do? Giggle. I really don’t think they were laughing *at* me, but by then had gotten the giggles and just couldn’t stop. And the more they tried to hide it, the angrier I got.

So then I launched into that speech that all parents deliver at some point in time: “What if I just decided to go on strike? What if I just quit doing laundry, or helping you with schoolwork, or buying you stuff, or shopping for food, or cooking food? What would you do then, Mr. and Ms. Smarty Pants?”

And Kellen looked me dead center in the eye and replied, “I would go to my school counselor and tell her you’re not taking care of us.”

OH. SO not the right thing to say. (Although, actually, I was sort of proud of him for coming to the conclusion that he would go to another adult with the problem. Proud of him in a twisted, demented, great-then-I’d-have-to-hide-from-Children’s-Services sort of way.)

But anyway, back to his comment. It was like I stepped outside of myself and could look over and see my own head spinning around. I snapped, “Well, hey, if you want to go live somewhere else, where people would take better care of you, you just let me know because we could sure arrange it!”

Yet another mature and reasonable comment from the adult in the house.

Anyway, much like the “never go to bed angry” rule, I also believe in never letting my children go to school with any of us angry, so we worked it out before we left the house. I mean, it’s not like we came up with any peaceable solution, whereby the children offered to take over all the household chores from now until eternity, but they did at least clean up their rooms before we left. And I didn’t even have to threaten to withhold dinner tonight. Which consisted of Pizza Hut, served on paper plates, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to wake up to another mess like I did this morning.

In the meantime, I’m off to clean the rug. Again.

THE JOURNAL ENTRY WHERE I ACTUALLY HAVE NOTHING TO SAY

BUT BOMBARD YOU WITH EASTER PHOTOS OF MY KIDS BECAUSE WHO KNOWS WHEN WILL BE THE NEXT OPPORTUNITY YOU MIGHT HAVE TO SEE KENDRIE WEARING A DRESS ….

Kendrie -- Day 144 OT

Blaine -- One week of radiation down, three and a half more to go

It’s true; I have nothing of interest to say today. I was going to update you on how things are going for Blaine …. But figured that could wait until later, when he’s further into his treatment.

Then I was going to tell you about Kellen’s baseball game tonight, which his team was winning with a score of 17-1 (until the coach let all the outfield kids play in the infield, and the other team managed to score eleven runs in their final at bat!) but realized you would never believe I’m not a competitive person (which I swear, I am not) if I started bragging about his baseball team so early in the season. Plus, I understand this might be the only game they win all year so perhaps I better not open my mouth too big, or I risk having to put a foot in it later.

Then I considered doing an entire journal entry about my weird oldest child, and the new RULES she has suddenly instituted with regard to her pancakes at breakfast each morning: they must be micro-waved, not toasted, and they must be nuked whole, not cut in pieces. They must be nuked for exactly one minute, THEN you must cut them into pieces. Then and only then can you pour the syrup, but then the cut-up, syrup-coated pancakes must be micro-waved for another twenty seconds, and then more syrup must be added to make up for the syrup deficit that gets absorbed during the second heating ….. seriously. I want to rip my own hair out. Is it not enough that I COOK the pancakes each Sunday morning and make extra to heat up during the school week? Now I must either endure having her bark orders at me and my obvious-lackluster-mediocre-sub-par-pancake-heating skills, or risk her wrath by having the audacity to suggest she DO IT HER DAMN SELF???!?!!

So, you see? Really, nothing too interesting. So I decided to flood you with photos instead.

Enjoy.

In the meantime, happy belated Easter!













And, proving you can take the girl out of the boys clothes, but can't take the boys activities out of the girls, I give you "fishing for tadpoles in the wading pond in the park where we took the photos" ..... can you guess how many of these outfits had to be dry-cleaned afterwards???

THEY ARE ACTUALLY VERY CUTE AND SWEET AND CLEVER AND FUNNY

(WHEN THEY’RE NOT DRIVING ME CRAZY, THAT IS)

Kendrie -- Day 140 OT
Blaine -- One radiation treatment down …. Many to go


As I am fond of telling my girlfriend Renee’, I have never in my life seen two children LESS equipped to be military brats than Kellen and Kendrie. Blaine left Monday for Seattle, and his final vision of our home was of our two youngest children trying to crawl under the garage door, in tears, arms outstretched, for one final hug. They sat at the kitchen window and cried the entire time he was pulling out of the driveway, and have, at some point, cried every day since he left. And they *know* he’s only going to be gone a little over a month. Heaven forbid Blaine is ever deployed for six months to Iraq, or tasked to serve a one-year remote assignment in Turkey or Kuwait ….. the two of them would simply melt into little puddles. How can THESE children be Air Force kids?????

Brayden, on the other hand, is so independent she could be living in her own apartment right now. Blaine calls every afternoon and evening, and if she’s not “too busy”, she’ll agree to talk to him for a moment or two, but only if a commercial is on. That’s not to say she doesn’t miss him, because I know she does. She just doesn’t fall apart on a daily basis like her two younger siblings. Although, she does use it to full advantage whenever she is angry with me …. Tossing out the “Dad is so much nicer than you --- I wish HE were here!” comments when I make her do some despicable chore like brush her teeth or put on clean underwear. Of course, Blaine assures me that she does the same thing, in reverse, when *I* am the one who is gone, so I don’t take it too personally.

However, when Kellen and Kendrie aren’t busy weeping about how much they miss their father, they do have some pretty clever ideas for dealing with his absence. Apparently the first night he was gone, they decided we needed some added protection around the house. I guess they didn’t feel as safe with their dad not here. Out of courtesy, I elected not to tell them that *I* am the one who wakes during the night and comes to check on them …. their father sleeping the sleep of the dead, oblivious to all the bumps and noises in the night.

Kristie: “Blaine, wake up! What was that noise?”
Blaine, mumbling: “It’s the ice maker dropping a load of ice. Roll over and go back to sleep”
Kristie, more urgently: “No, I don’t think that was it! I really think I heard something!”
Blaine: “What you heard are the voices in your head. Now for the love of Pete, shut up and go back to sleep”

And who gets up and walks through the house, double-checking the locks and windows, risking death and dismemberment at the hands of the roving band of axe-murderers who have just broken into our home? ME.

Like I said, although I have no idea where the younger two get this crazy paranoia, they apparently felt we needed some added protection, so they devised a fool-proof anti-burglary system in our hallway:





Stuffed animals, army trucks, and motorcycles, ready to spring to life and defend our home from invasion. When I asked exactly “how” these things would protect us, Kellen simply replied, “They’ll protect us if strangers try to come in the house.” Um, ok. I especially like the Camp Sunshine mascot cow tucked into the tank and am confident that a thief would also find it terrifying and flee in the night.

Something else I should point out to the kids is that there is no way anyone would break into our home because:

a) We don’t have anything worth stealing, and

b) Better than our motion sensor lights, our alarm system, our prickly bushes under the windows, our locked doors, and a mother who sleeps with the cordless phone next to her bed, 911 on speed dial, we have this: the Mount Everest of home protection, the safety and security that comes only with top of the line defense systems …. The fortification of the canine world:



Lager. Our deaf, old, arthritic dog, who stays in this position ninety percent of the day and night, getting up only long enough to eat and move to another spot on the carpet. Really … who *wouldn’t* feel perfectly safe and secure with this ferocious beast around, safeguarding your family?

On second thought, maybe the cow in the tank is a better bet.

PS. A MOST sincere Thank YOU to the people who responded to my request in the last post for hook ups with people who have radiation experience. I was pleased to receive several responses and have been able to ask questions of quite a few people. Also, I’m a little embarrassed to admit there was an online support group (right in front of my FACE!) that I overlooked, which someone was kind enough to direct me to. So hopefully between the people who have been nice enough to e-mail me personally, and the people on the support list, we’ll be getting a better idea of what Blaine is in for with these radiation treatments.

He started this week and things seem to be going ok so far, although he admitted yesterday that having his head bolted to the table in the Jason-mask is a little disconcerting. (His actual words were, “I had no idea I was claustrophobic, but this sucks!”) I reminded him of all the young cancer patients who have the same thing done and have to be sedated because they are only children …. And gave him a gentle reminder that perhaps he should be grateful that although it sucks, he *is* an adult and at least in better control of the situation. He agreed, and thanked me for always being right and wise and smarter and all-knowing.

(OK, so that last part isn’t true, but you know what I mean. He SHOULD have thanked me for all that, because I totally AM!)

CAMP SUNSHINE, TAKE FOUR

Kendrie -- Day 137 OT

Blaine -- Quick! Look up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane!! It’s, it’s ….. well, shoot, it IS a plane, with Blaine on it. He’s probably over your head right now on his way to Seattle! (Radiation starts tomorrow -- if you have a spare good thought you could direct to the northwest part of the country, I know he’d appreciate it.)

Yep, that’s right, we headed to our FOURTH Family Camp Weekend on Friday, courtesy of Camp Sunshine, at Camp Twin Lakes in Georgia. I could go on and on (and on and on and on) about what a great support organization this is, and how much our family has benefited from the outings and support groups run by them …. and how fabulous the workers and volunteers are …. and how much we cherish the friendships we have made with other pediatric cancer patients and their families …. and how we always have such a great time at camp ….. and how we hope they never kick us out even though Kendrie is off-treatment at this point …. As I know you all must expect me to …. Considering I never shut up for anything …. But I won’t this time.

Instead, just like our Florida trip, I’ll give you the highlights instead, in pictures. So that those of you on dial-up can permanently remove me from your favorites list since Lord knows all these photos will never show up for you.

OUR FAVORITE THINGS TO DO AT CAMP SUNSHINE:




Family Group Activity: painting birdhouses. Ours started out a very cheerful yellow and green. But then the kids wanted to “add details” and they got too impatient to rinse out their paintbrushes between colors, so we wound up with an interesting greenish-brownish-dingy-colored birdhouse that no bird in the tri-state region would nest in unless there was a hurricane coming and they had no other option for survival. I’m sure the Martha Stewarts of the bird world would choose death, rather than hunker down in something so ugly. But the kids had fun, and that’s all that matters.




Playing Frisbee on the lawn with all the other kids: Kellen had a great time, but unfortunately never figured out that the probability for actually *catching* the Frisbee would have been much higher had he kept his eyes open. Oh, well, at least (unlike Kendrie) he keeps his tongue in his mouth.




Hanging out with friends: Brayden and our friend Mary Grace spent all weekend in one another’s company. I’m not sure which one of them enjoyed it more …. Mary Grace, for having a “big kid” to carry her around, or Brayden, for having a “little kid” she could be the boss of for two solid days. Unlike Kellen and Kendrie, Mary Grace actually listened to what Brayden had to say. Quite a difference from the treatment Brayden gets at home from her unappreciative siblings.





Ahhhhh, the bloom of eternally happy siblings ………NOT! I think Blaine was standing behind me with ice cream bars and we told them they couldn’t have any unless they posed for a photo together …. Smiling ….. arms around one another. I am SO not above bribery.





Kendrie and her “new best friend” Keegan. They were inseparable this weekend, with both of them pushing hard for a “sleepover” at the other one’s cabin. Keegan, as many of you know from following his CB site, is currently undergoing some pretty harsh relapse chemo, and I was impressed with what a good job he did keeping up with the other kids this weekend. I don’t know if it was because of Kendrie, or in spite of her, but they both ran pretty hard the entire time. Which, or course, is better for us parents come bedtime, when they’re exhausted and fall immediately off to sleep, which is all that really matters in life.




This was one of the kids’ favorite activities this weekend: paddleboating. One which, by all rights, should have brought me a great deal of shame, since I refused to go in one (after Blaine’s rude weight comment the last time I went in HIS boat, I wasn’t about to risk having a camp lifeguard tell me I’m too fat! Plus, have you ever tried working those pedals? It's hard!!) and so my kids blatantly begged other adults, some who were total strangers, to take them. And people did. Wondering all the while, I’m sure, why my fat-ass was on the dock taking photos as they huffed and puffed by.




Another perennial favorite; gold panning. I keep hoping each time that the kids will find a nice diamond ring, or perhaps an emerald pendant or a pair of sapphire cufflinks, but no such luck yet. In the meantime, we’ve got a nice collection of shiny pieces of glass, plastic, and ornamental rocks, which they guard with their lives and think is truly valuable.




Not to leave all the fun up to Brayden and Kendrie, Kellen snagged another member of Mary Grace’s family for the weekend: Grant. The two boys had a great time playing sports together, and were surprisingly well behaved, considering the mischief they *could* have gotten into, if they had been so inclined. Luckily for us, they weren’t.




A new adventure for our family this weekend: tennis. Well, "adventure" in the sense that Blaine did nothing but throw thousands of balls for the kids to hit, and I sat on a bench and took photos. Considering none of them had ever so much as picked up a racket before, they enjoyed the quick bit of playing we did.





Kellen enjoyed it especially, once he figured out that a tennis racket is NOT the same thing as a baseball bat.





Kendrie never really got the hang of it, and decided pouting on her side of the court was a better outlay of energy than actually chasing the balls around.


Judging by the cheerfulness, cooperation, and gratitude our children showed us for taking them to Family Camp this weekend (I guess they think those suitcases just pack themselves? And unpack themselves at the cabin? And the van loads itself? And all the luggage and bags of crap schlep themselves to and from the cabin? And the dog walks himself to the kennel before hand? And the snacks and drinks just magically appear? You get the picture…….) Blaine and I have decided that our next few vacations will take place at Couples, or Sandals, or some other type of resort that doesn’t allow anyone under the age of 25 to step foot on the property. Not that we don’t love our kids, we do. We just have no desire to travel with them again until they are old enough to vote, pay their own way, sleep in their OWN hotel rooms, and NOT argue with us 24/7/365.

A few of the photos from this weekend that I didn’t take, but that would back up my version of the events:

1. The photo of our kids fighting over whose turn it was to select the movie for the DVD. For Pete's sake, it's not like they haven't seen ALL those movies a dozen time apiece!!!

2. The photo of our kids arguing vehemently with their father and me that Fruit Gushers and Gatorade are a HEALTHY and perfectly rational breakfast choice.

3. A photo of our kids fighting over who got which bed in the cabin (never mind that there are TEN beds to choose from!)

4. A photo of our kids protesting that to walk eight feet to the suitcase to get their own pajamas was simply too exhausting.

5. A photo of the kids fighting over whose turn it was to ride in the wagon, and whose turn it was to pull.

6. A photo of the kids repeatedly, REPEATEDLY, smacking their gum in the van, despite my frequent requests for them to chew with their mouths closed.

6 1/2. A photo of my face turning red as I scream at them politely and lovingly ask them one last time to quit smacking their gum!!!!

7. A photo of me (I am so not making this up) throwing a cup at my children and yelling at them to spit the damn gum out. In my defense, it was a plastic cup so there was no real chance of bodily harm. And I didn’t technically throw it AT the children, I just threw it over my shoulder in the van, towards the general direction of the smacking children. The fact that it hit Kellen in the arm was really more bad luck and unfortunate aim than harmful intent on my part.

8. A photo of Blaine rolling his eyes at the entire lot of us.


Thank goodness the weekend ended on a high note, as finally, in a scene eerily similar to last weekend, we stalked another Canadian family who were visiting the United States on vacation, and showed up on their holiday doorstep. This time, it was Katie and her family, staying with relatives in Atlanta.

Also an ALL patient, Katie was diagnosed a few months before Kendrie and went off-treatment a few months after. Her protocol was slightly longer than ours, but now Katie is reveling in her life post-chemo, and we were so happy, after “meeting” online over two and a half years ago, to get a chance to meet their family in person.




The kids had a great time playing together for the afternoon (or at least *my* kids did … perhaps I shouldn’t speak for Katie and her brother Alex!) Just like right after we met Finn’s family, and Julianna’s family, my kids want to know how much longer until they can get together and play again with their new friends. Obviously, they haven’t quite yet grasped the concept of borders, passports, and ve-e-e-e-e-e-e-errrrry long car rides. And after this past weekend, we’re taking no car ride farther than their elementary school or the local grocery store. But maybe after we win the lottery, we’ll buy ourselves an RV (with a soundproof cabin for Blaine and me) and tour North America, re-visiting these great families, and so many others. We can be the dysfunctional cancer family version of MTV’s Road Rules.

Until then, Blaine and I figure at the rate of one family a weekend, we will be able to party-crash all the families on our All-Kids list in a short five years or so.

So, who’s next??? Any volunteers??? :)

PS. All kidding aside, I am looking for a little bit of help here. Blaine starts his radiation tomorrow, and as WONDERFUL as the support and information I found online for pediatric leukemia has been, the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction for head and neck cancers. I’m not sure if it’s because people are more inclined to step up when their children are involved, or perhaps adults are more private ….. I just don’t know why there isn’t a support network to be found (and believe me, we have looked!)

Specifically, we would love to talk to someone who has undergone radiation for salivary gland/sinus cancer …. Even more specifically, neutron beam radiation. But we’re not choosy, we’ll take anything in the ballpark. We would just like to hear from someone who has “been there, done that” and would be willing to give us their know-how with regard to treatment difficulties, severity and length of potential side effects, long-term experience, etc.

It’s too bad there’s no way to “search” these Caringbridge sites by diagnosis. Privacy issues aside, it sure would be helpful! So if you know of anyone, or know of anyone who knows of anyone … etc …. And wouldn’t mind passing our names along, we would certainly appreciate it. Thanks!

BUT, YOU WOULD BE WRONG

Kendrie -- Day 131 OT
Blaine -- Radiation starts one week from today

Well, I tried. Tried hard. Tried hard and failed. (Sounds like me and my history with dieting) No matter how much I wanted to wait and update, and not blurt out the fun news from last weekend, I just can’t stand not updating the site and letting everyone know what we got to do. A few of you guessed (correctly) in the guestbook, but in case you’re not sure, let me fill you in:

IF YOU THOUGHT OUR HIGHLIGHT FROM LAST WEEKEND WAS:




Having ice cream for lunch -- not as dessert *after* lunch, but as lunch itself -- at 10:30 in the morning --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.




Getting to play dinosaur putt-putt --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.




Getting to interact with the dinosaur putt-putt because the balls kept disappearing down in this one particular dinosaur --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.





Getting to play with Daddy in the swimming pool (although it was awfully fun) --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.





Getting to go on a mighty lizard hunt --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.




Realizing that the UV protection we were giving our eyes was at the expense of our soon-to-be-cauliflower-ears --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.





Getting to treat Dad like the pack-mule he is --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.





Getting to stand around in our new sunglasses and look cool --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.






Getting our faces painted (althoug this was the end of the evening and the faces underneath the paint were pretty tired) --- YOU WOULD BE WRONG.






Have you guessed? Huh? Huh? Have you???? Any ideas at all????







How about: Getting to hang out with the entire Clan Banana for the day at Give Kids the World Resort Village in Kissimmee, Florida!!!





You guys, seriously. I know they think we’re stalkers. They flew down from Manitoba on their Canadian-U.S. peace envoy, and we totally showed up and crashed Julianna’s Wish Trip!! Not only did we follow them around like puppies, sitting with them for dinner, attending Mayor Clayton’s birthday party, and inviting ourselves to go swimming with them, but we even invited ourselves to their villa where my kids drank all their juice and ate all their Pringles! No wonder people think Americans are greedy and selfish and insensitive --- we totally are!

But they were gracious and hospitable, and had the decency to at least pretend they didn’t mind. And their family is just as funny, just as nice, and just as friendly in real life as they are on Caringbridge. Julianna and Nicholas are great kids, sweet, even-tempered, and much better behaved than those Escoe hooligans, I can tell you that. I don’t know what the hell kind of excuse I’m going to have to use to wrangle our way up to Canada so we can visit with them again, but I’m sure going to do my best to make it happen.

We were even lucky enough to witness Julianna’s inaugural swim after getting her lines removed. I got some great photos, but out of respect for her First Bikini in Years Event, will send them directly to her parents. I was a little worried that Proclaiming Myself as the Great American Nuisance was bad enough and didn’t want to repeatedly point my camera in their faces as well. So I waited until the very end of the evening to ask someone to take a group shot --- and wouldn’t you know? My camera wouldn’t take in the dark. I have NO idea why that happened, but I was extremely disappointed and hope their camera worked better than mine.

Well, I’ve probably gushed enough. Terry, Mary, Julianna and Nicholas, thank you so much for allowing us to suck the life out of your first full day in Florida. I hope the rest of Julianna’s trip is awesome ---- and much easier for you to enjoy without us five obnoxious leeches hanging on.

Your bestest, best new friends from Georgia (are you terrified yet?)

The Escoe family.