September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

And you thought that this month would pass by without any mention by me.  All you thought I would do was change my profile picture to a yellow equal sign to remind people that there should be equal funding for childhood cancer research.  And most of you didn't notice that.  But why should you?  Childhood cancer awareness month does not bombard you from every angle like breast cancer awareness month does.  NFL players are not wearing gold shoes.  Mars does not sell gold M&Ms.  There are no three day walks down the coast of California, people in a sea of gold scarves, bandannas and sweatshirts.  Childhood cancer does not strike famous people at the height of their careers.  It does not end peoples lives, but instead stops lives from ever happening.
Today, two classrooms of children will be diagnosed with some form of childhood cancer.  One in five of those children will not live.  Cancer will take their tiny little lives and run havoc with it before it takes that child's last breath.  When twenty two children were killed in Connecticut, the nation screamed.  Today over twice that many will be given a sentence that will kill many of them and no one yells.  No one except for the mom and dad, a few outraged friends and people who have been there.  (I exclude myself from that list because unlike most of the parents I know of children who had cancer, I have never been able to get involved.)  This is the shameful extent of my screaming. 
It was five years ago this month that my daughter was in one of those classrooms.  She survived.  She knew one that didn't. 
I am no a crusader or advocate.  I don't get on soapboxes beyond my keyboard.  I am full of opinions, but will never follow up on them, never will work hard enough to make a change.  I ought to though, because mine was one that made it off the pediatric oncology ward and moved on to great and glorious things.  Mine did not remain forever a seventeen year old but has kept on living large.  Mine did not create a list of hopes and dreams that are being fulfilled by her parents, but went out and fulfilled those hopes and followed those dreams.  So maybe I should do something more than remind those of you that will read this that there are babies dying because there is no funding.  Maybe I should start proclaiming that gold is the new pink.  Maybe I should think of all those advocates that went before me and raised the funds that found the cure that cured my daughter and be that advocate for the next two classrooms.
 Hey Lisa, if you are reading this, what is my first step?

Making My Dreams Come True

That would be my montage song.  Unless I had to fight the Russian and then it would be Eye of the Tiger, obviously.  No one can beat the Russian by working out to a Hall and Oates song.  But if I were trying to get in shape or find the perfect outfit or redecorate the house in a funky sort of way, Hall and Oates without fail.
The idea behind the montage is to speed the story along and to have more than the opening and closing credit song on the soundtrack.  The idea behind my montage is not to speed the story up, life goes pretty fast (thanks Ferris).  But rather to make the not so fun, fun.  Cleaning house, doing sit ups, chasing chickens and racing Apollo Creed isn't fun, though jumping in the crashing waves with Apollo Creed probably is!  You know the scene I am talking about when grown men weren't afraid to wear short shorts and pull their socks up over their calves.  Now it's just the opposite and shorts hang down to the socks that are pushed down.  If we would have lost the cold war, that would have been one of the reasons.  Sloppy short wearing.
I think montages help one get through the tedious and boring parts of life.  And yet, we look back fondly because of the spunky back beat and catchy chorus.  Making My Dreams Come True is in my head right now and I attempt to montage this blog. 

You Know that's Permanent Part II

Well, maybe it should be part III or IV because this is my fourth time to the seedy tattoo parlor.  Anyway, I know these are permanent and I know that my skin will wrinkle as I age and I know that I will regret all my ink spots someday.  (I don't really mean that last sentence, just answering the critics right off the bat.)
I wrote about my first tattoo a couple of years ago.  I got a second one in Carson City with my sister in law, Denise.  We got a Celtic symbol for sisters.  That was a treat.  Denise held my hand so tightly while I got tattoo'd that it barely hurt.  Denise and I have identical knots on our left foot.  My other sister in law, Dene' got the same tattoo on her neck.  Tattoo number three was last fall after I had spent six months with an amazing group of women participating, planning and putting on a retreat.  Between Ashlyn's cancer and my growth as a human, I had finally figured out how to Let Go and Let God so that is now on my calf. 
Today's ink was twofold. 
In 2004 while Danny was in Iraq, I went crazy.  I am not exaggerating, ape shit crazy.  I would like to think that I faked it pretty well and fooled everyone, but I did not fool myself.  When I look back at many of those months, I am amazed that I made it out alive.  And if I am completely honest, there were a few times when I don't know if I was trying to make it out alive.  Oh, I wasn't suicidal I was just crazy.  The darkest day found Barron and me home alone.  I was the darkest I had ever been.  I don't know what I was going to do that morning, I really don't.  But I am quite certain that it was not going to be pretty. 
Barron came to me, laid his big yellow head in my lap and let out a sigh.  He stopped me from whatever horror I had in mind.  It was his greatest rescue of me in a long line of rescues of me. 
On my left ankle is a paw print of a 14 pound yellow lab.  It was taken from a imprint made on 22 October 2001.  That was about the time we got this angel that was sent to guard me in all my ways.  Psalm 91:11. 
On my right wrist, where I can see it all the time is three lines.  Line one and line two are the two most important parts of my life and the third line is where I keep them.
My kinder
My honey
My heart
These are permanent.  I get that.  I get that I will have a paw print on my ankle for the rest of my life.  I would rather have the paw and the dog that goes with it, but that isn't an option.  But having a constant reminder of the life he saved is a good thing.  Seeing that every day and knowing that God commands the angels to guard me in all their ways is a pretty powerful bit of knowledge.  And I don't need to see that my kinder and my honey are in my heart.  I know that.  But it was a two-fer price and I love a good deal.

Taking Stock

Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch.  Well, not exactly what I am taking stock of today, but one gets the idea.
Life is in motion, and it is spinning just a little faster than I care for.  Here in this house, Jacob is a senior.  I don't care for that.  He is sharing with me his plans for his future and it is taking place in places far from here.  An adult now, registered for the draft, registered to vote.  He has his own life to think of in very real terms. 
In Cedar Falls and in Ames, life has sped up as well.  Hayley, now a junior, has a five year plan in the works and I am paying attention.  Wedding and baby is what she has her eye on in the next five years.  It doesn't scare me in the least, been there and done that with much success so I see no reason why she should wait for some ideal age.  I think her five year plan is ideal.  Ashlyn in three months will no longer be in school.  I clearly remember her first day.  School and Ashlyn had been very good friends for a long time, but sometimes I think the relationship is becoming strained and maybe it is time for a change.  And then what for my Ashlyn?  Only the good Lord knows and He keeps His cards close to His chest. 
Ata heads down the aisle in February.  Having lived so far away, I don't know her well enough and I don't know the groom at all.  I know that she is beautiful, talented, quirky and he is lucky.  I will add to this paragraph in February.
And then there is my nephew, a navy man.  Isaac will be setting sail for who knows where.  It is a great big world and he is going to see it!  Unfortunately, he will see a lot of shitholes as well as a lot of incredible places.  I am very proud of him and very excited for him.  I look forward to the day when Danny and I get to visit him overseas instead of vice versa!
Molly is up in Michigan and never on Facebook so I have no idea what she is up to.  I suspect a bit of no good mixed in with a whole lot of fun.  We all anticipate unexpected things from Molly.  She will be fun to watch.
Tom is keeping close to home.  A wise financial move, I imagine.  Again, I think Tom will surprise us all.  In good ways, obviously!
Morgan is living it up in the City.  At barely seventeen, she is in New York studying with Joffery.  I don't think I speak for her parents when I say that I am over the moon for this adventure!  Of course, my girl was a little older when she set off for Chicago so I don't really have room to talk.  But that has never stopped me before.  And I pray that she keeps us posted on this moment.  Hip Hip Hooray!
Still waiting to see what Melody, Maddie, Jayse, Cohen and Keaton will be and do.  I can only imagine. 
And here I am at definitely mid life.  I say that with optimism that I will reach 86 and beyond.  I am happy that my health issues were less than minor.  Popping some pills, adding some stretches, maybe a few sit ups, a walk to the corner, a little less soda and a little more H2O, easy enough.  I have made the conscious choice to look at the next few years with excitement not with sadness.  Though I never thought it a good idea to have my kids move away, I won't see the downside of empty beds, less laundry or smaller grocery bills.  Danny and I are golfing and movie nighting and booking flights.  We are realizing that the best is definitely behind us and ahead of us and we are standing in the midst of it.  We are looking to be healthy and happy in this life we have created with God's grace. 
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch.

Prodigal

I went to mass today.  This is the third week in a row.  I took the summer off and let's be honest, most of the spring and a lot of last winter as well.  But I'm back and am giving it the ole college try (which means I should last about six weeks before dropping out).  I go alone and sit against the wall right next to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel.  I choose to sit there because I am a safe distance from White Diamonds or any other dangerous scent.  Sometimes I feel like a jerk, like I don't want to be part of the congregation, but since I am alone, it is important that I don't get boxed in with bad perfume on too many sides of me.   Though if I did have an allergic reaction, I think every third member is a doctor so someone could administer the epi injection.
Today's gospel was an oldie but a goody, the triple parable.  Missing sheep, missing coin, self centered son.  This one has always given me some struggle.  I understand why the shepherd went looking for his one lost sheep.  I would have gone looking as well.  But why in the world doesn't he have some dogs working for him.  A couple of Anatolian shepherds and those sheep won't be going anywhere.  If the shepherd weren't Jewish, he could have even trained a pig to keep the sheep in line.  It worked beautifully for Farmer Arthur H. Hoggett.  I don't know if I would have gone as far as to have swept the whole house for a missing coin, but I do check Jacob's pockets for loose change. (And I keep it).  But the prodigal son always seemed unfair.  As I have grown (up and in my faith) I have come to realize that the son that stayed with the father has always been promised an inheritance, but the one that came home after laying with whores and pigs, well, there was reason to celebrate (after he showered, of course).  And as a parent, I would celebrate the return of my child.  As a parent, I do celebrate the return of my child and they never left me, they just went to college. 
And now I am returning.  I am not the prodigal son by any means, I am the lazy daughter.  I am the child that hits snooze on a Sunday morning because I cannot hit it during the week.   I am full of excuses and it really is quite pathetic, especially when I see all these people filling the pews with unruly kids in tow.  I don't have any problem making date night on Wednesday so I don't see why a Sunday morning meal is any more difficult. 
It is my own doing that I go alone.  I never made Sunday mass a priority.  I never made it a part of our week.  It was always hit and miss, more miss.  I don't even know how important I made God in our lives.  I would mulligan that, if I could.  I would have made Sunday mornings a ritual of getting dressed up and celebrating mass followed by breakfast.  We did that frequently in Cedar Rapids and Happy Chef was usually where we ended up!

So back to the prodigal child that I am.  There was no fatted calf roasting in celebration of my return.  But I liked being back and I am pretty sure that The Lord is glad I am back.  I know that I don't have to be in a church on Sunday to praise The Lord, but much like a fine meal, it is better when it is shared.  I think that's where the fatted calf comes in. 

Tough Mudder

Lets take stock of me. 
Dirt is imbedded in my feet.  I don't know how long I will have to soak them before they are truly clean.  I have one blister on the back of one foot which is remarkable because both socks kept working themselves down and would bunch up under my toes.  My left leg has two pink bruises on the lower leg, many scratches on the knee, a speckled egg bruise on the knee and three bigger, bluer bruises on my thigh.  The right leg does not look much better.  There is a three part bruise on the left side of my lower ribs.  My arms have just a few bruises and no cuts or scratches.  I am sunburned across the back of my neck.  I am also sunburned on my forehead.  Every muscle that I can feel is screaming at me when I make a move.  Once I get moving, I feel okay, but it takes a long time to get moving. 
How did I get like this?
I signed up for Tough Mudder in October of 2012.  I had over nine months to train.  I bought one exercise series, one pilates machine, one trial gym membership and one gym renewal.  I did not train for more than two weeks consecutively or more than eight weeks total.  I did lose six pounds that I have kept off. 
Yesterday, July 20, 2013, my over nine months had come and gone and it was go time.  I seriously contemplated every conceivable scenario that would get me out of where I was at 11:15 on Saturday.  But as luck would have it, there I was under a giant inflatable start line getting ready to participate in the physical challenge of my life.  I was very surprised that I did not feel like I was going to throw up but was just eager to get started! 
Tough Mudder is a, depending upon the location, 10-15 mile obstacle mud challenge.  This particular challenge was at Somerset Amphitheater in Wisconsin.  The terrain was natural and was all hills until the end.  The natural terrain was dusty and sometimes rocky.  There were low tree stumps and stalks that had to be manuevered around.  This was no walk in the park, so to speak.  The obstacles had names like Artic Enema and Berlin Walls.  At the end is another giant inflatable, this one saying finish, a table of t-shirts, headbands and beer. 
I got to this spot because, well it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Danny had ran two Tough Mudders.  Jacob wanted to run when he turned eighteen, which was this year.  Hayley thought that if Danny and Jacob were doing it, it would be fun to do it, too.  That lead to Hayley wanting it to be a family thing, so Ashlyn signed up.  Ashlyn almost didn't make it having arrived from South Africa a day and a half prior.  Not wanting to be left on the sidelines, I said "what the hell."  And because Brett is already considered family, he got his registration for Christmas from Danny and me.
So back to yesterday and all that happened that has left me a bruised and beat up girl.  Before the challenge even began, the participants had to climb over wall.  9Us gals have very little upper body strength so all 'pull yourself up' activities quickly became 'Danny and Brett hoist us up' activities0.  Climbing over the wall gave me the inner thigh bruises, there would be a few more walls that would add to the bruises, but I kinda liked that blood was spilt (internally) right from the get go! 

We started out jogging as a group, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to last.  There is a mental wall that has been built that separates me from running and jogging.  I am happy to walk for miles and miles, but ask me to run and my lungs set themselves on fire.  We walked most of the eleven mile course.  Sorry about that.

The obstacles were pretty creative and for the most part, pretty fun.  There were seventeen obstacles and I was successful in all that I attempted except one.  I opted out of three, one of which I now sort of regret. 

Kiss of mud was an easy, peasy low crawl through the mud with barbed wire gridded high above one's head.  We all came out of that happy and muddy! 

That feeling quickly changed as we approached the Artic Enema.  Folks, I have been cold before but never, ever like this.  A MWA roll off dumpster was filled with ice water.  And by ice water, I mean that ice cubes were floating happily in this at 11:30 on a summer's day.  The water probably went up to my chest, I honestly don't remember.  I was the first to slide in and quickly made it to the board that was hanging just below the water's surface.  I had to go completely under but just for a moment.  That was all okay.  It was the nearly impossible task of taking a breath after I brought my head out of the water that set me into a minor panic.  I kept my hand on the side of the dumpster and got to the end.  I am pretty sure that Danny boosted me out and I am pretty sure I was going to go head first out of that.  I think a fellow Mudder righted me and I hit the ground.  We were fortunate to have a sunny day and we warmed up as we moved on.  That was one obstacle that I would have liked to have seen a volunteer to two at the end to rescue people like me.

The easy ones had us climbing hay bales and over and under logs.  We shimmied down some culverts and shimmied back up the other side.  We low crawled through some water, we ran through some water, we low crawled through some more water.  We laid on our backs in water and pulled ourselves along a chain link fence suspended overhead.  We climbed over piles of mud and slid into pools of muddy water only to climb over piles of mud to slide back into pools of muddy water.  Jacob had a blast in this one, called Mud Mile #2.  He practically swam in the pools.  He was amazed at how buoyant he was in the muddy water.  Jacob, except for the center of his face, was covered in mud after that obstacle. 
I chickened out of Trench Warfare which was four trenches dug out of the ground and shallowly filled with water.  Above the trenches were grids of barded wire and hanging from the wire were wires with electric current running through some.  Danny gave me that look, but I knew I didn't want to do this.  The last obstacle is also a shocker, with the wires hanging down and the Mudder running through them.  I opted out of that one as well, though I regret that.  The other one I opted out of was a series of six wide trenches that one simply had to jump over.  This one screamed injury and I was not going to risk a compound fracture or even a twisted ankle at this point in the challenge.  I don't have any regrets about skipping that one. 
The Berlin Walls were two walls, 12 feet high that had to be climbed over.  I was the first to go.  One of the Mudder volunteers showed us an easy way.  He took a knee against the wall and I put one foot on his leg and the other on his shoulder.  He stood up and I went up the wall.  I was able to grab the top and with a lot of pushing from below, was able to get my legs over.  The problem was I didn't know what to do once I got to the top.  I hung on for a moment, knowing that I had to let myself go easily and land in a way that I could absorb the impact without getting hurt.  Unfortunately, upper body strength gave out, fingers lost their grip and I took the most ungraceful fall of the day.  Hayley was on the other side of the wall and she watched my fingers slide past the boards.  Ashlyn watched me hit and figured I had injured my back especially when she watched me gingerly walk off the course towards the emergency gator.  I did not hurt my back but landed on my knee ala THOR and thought I had wrecked it.  But I bounced back, did not do the second wall and walked it off. 
I also successfully walked off a lower calf cramp that really wanted to form, but no, no, no.  Not in my leg!
The obstacle that I am most proud that I overcame was the big Wheaties advertisement.  I can't find the name of the obstacle so I am going to possibly make up the details as well as the name.  On the back side, we climbed up some two by fours to the top of a platform.  The top of the platform must have been 15 feet above a 12 foot pool of muddy water.  These are guesses based on how high Ellis high board was when Ashlyn and Hayley were 9 and 7.  Anyway, the Mudder in front of me had a change of heart and decided not to jump.  I think she stood too long at the edge and got overwhelmed.  I totally get that.  I did not stand at the edge but just went for the jump.  It was a long way down and seemed like I was under water for ever.  I have a tendency to release my air too soon and got a little panicky as I was coming up.  I didn't open my eyes since the water was a murky brown anyway.  But had my hands pointed north and push kicked like a son of a bitch.  I knew Danny was already out of the water because he had to jump before me.  I put a lot of undue pressure on him as I always expect him to be there to save my life if needed.  When I came up, I locked my focus on the rescue diver that was in the waters edge and I swam to shore.  I didn't panic and I got out of that water ecstatic. Watching other Mudders jump in gave me a real sense of accomplishment.  That was exactly the kind of obstacle I would have wimped out of because I wouldn't have believed I was strong enough.  (Wimping out the of the shock ones was purely because I was a puss).
It took our completely untrained group of six four and a half hours to travel eleven miles and seventeenish obstacles.  I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath, to convince myself to push myself up the hill, to fix my sock.  Hayley also had sock issues.  The rest of the group kept moving.  Jacob and Brett would have liked to have ran more and for that, I am sorry, but they knew going in that I was going in as well!  Danny was able to avoid the shoulder fatigue at the cargo net obstacle because three of our team were taller than him and held the net above his head.  He was able to complete the monkey bars but his face showed extreme duress.  Brett and Jacob also completed the monkey bars.  Hayley got a few bars out there and dropped right in front of Ashlyn who didn't make it quite as far.  I just jumped in the water and swam across! 
Crossing the finish line gives one a head band, t-shirt and if 21, a cold beer.  Crossing the finish line gave me a pretty huge sense of accomplishment.  I asked myself to do a few things that I didn't want to do.  I was not as strong as most, or as fast as most, or as fit as most.  But I have a head band that most don't have.  I am a Tough Mudder.
　





3.Glory Blades inverted walls climbed braces

4.King of the Mountain hay bale

5.Trench Warfare electric shock

6.Boa Constrictor tube down water in middle crawled back up

7.Cliffhanger

8.Mud Mile #1

9.Hold Your Wood

10.Log Jammin’

11.Mud Mile #2

12.Warrior Carry

13.Cage Crawl

14.Walk the Plank

15.Berlin Walls

16.Everest

17.Funky Monkey

18.Electroshock Therapy

What Happens in Vegas

Nothing really happened in Vegas.  Surprisingly, it was not our kind of town.   I think it was a combination of heat, ridiculous pricing and that slot machines are no longer slotted for real money.  Don't get me wrong, we had a good time, Danny and I on vacation equals good time.  It just wasn't the greatest time.  And there were many moments when I would look at the family from Germany or Brazil or some other fantastic vacation place and think "what the hell are you doing here?"  and "is this really the best we have to offer the vacationers of the world?"  Danny reminded me that they probably had just been to California and that people tend to appreciate home a little more after they have been on vacation. 
The main purpose of our trip was to see the Gillott's dance.  The Gillott's are Danny's sister and family.  The dancers are Morgan, Maddie and Jayse.  They have been dancing for always and we have never seen them in fancy costumes with lighting and such so with Morgan moving on to other adventures, this was our window.
Impressive, definitely impressive.  It was clear the work and passion that goes into being this involved in anything, be it dancing, sports, chess etc.  Well chess doesn't require costume changes.  Anyway, impressive and not at all something the White family of WDM would have succeeded at.  I take that back, we would have succeeded at it.  We are pretty awesome.  It is just hard to imagine us in that role. 
Certainly, Danny and I would have traveled the world in support of Ashlyn and Hayley's pairs gymnastics if they would have just stuck with it.
Anyway, back to Vegas.  Did you know that they get only four inches of rain a year, but six inches of vomit and 7.5 inches of boobie cards.  Speaking of boobie cards.  Not all are the same size (cards and boobs) so you cannot make your own 52 count deck of cards.  That is why Jacob did not get a Vegas deck of cards souvenir.  
Shopping is plentiful on the strip and we did a fair amount of 'just looking'.  I found the shop keepers to be very nice even though they could tell that I was not going to purchase their wares.  We chatted with the Rolex dealer, I had some questions about the watch that went to the bottom of the ocean on James Cameron's sub.  The watch guy, (I think that's what they are called) made the comment that there was not a big call for Rolex's in Iowa.  I held back (way back) and did not create an incident, but oh, my little Midwest manners were working overtime.  True though, there is not a lot of call for a $12,000(0) time piece in Iowa or any other place in the world (except the Marian Trench). 
The lovely lady at the Burberry store did not know that college students from Iowa could dress in attire other than overalls.  Personally, I don't think she knew where Iowa was.  I (and I was nice) explained to her that the great state of Iowa has two major universities (no offence UNI) that have huge international populations.  I also educated her on the fact that Iowa State invented the computer and the rice crispie bar.  There is no other university in the nation that has made a contribution to society greater than that.  Individually, sure, but when you combine BAM!
Plenty of homeless people in Vegas, or at least that is what the sheet of cardboard said.  I am not very sympathetic to the people in general and to people who can get a job in specific.  If you want me to give you spare change (1) then don't yell at me (2) don't have really bid dogs near your change cup (3) don't sit there all freakin day and don't do a damn thing to improve your lot in life.  They, like the slot machines got none of my money.
Vegas is now checked off the list.  There is no plan to return.  We didn't hate it by any means, there is just a long list of other places and other faces.  Besides, its obvious what happened in Vegas didn't stay there, I'm telling you all about it now.