Meeting the cousins

Eve came home on Sunday morning - just in time for the Allan family dinner (to celebrate my 60th). We tried to keep them a bit separate, but the cousins were fascinated. They met us on the doorstep. The first thing out of Brooke's mouth was, "I want to see them." As we uncovered them in their carseats, Brooke asked, "Are they real?" They must have looked like dolls, so still and tiny. Halle was everywhere. The girls were lying on the floor. Halle wanted to cover them with layers and layers of blankets. When we asked her to "go around", she used Grandma as an obstacle course to "go around" rather than going around the blanket. When Zach saw them in their drowsy state, he commented, "one eye sleeping". To distract Halle and Brooke, we told them they could put their stuffed animals in the car seats. They loved the covers for the car seats a creation of Aunt Trisha (copying Cara's cute creation), and would try to rock the animals in the carseats. It was a pretty wild ride.

Drew was excited to show the babies the pictures he had created for them. They are proudly displayed on the walls of their room. Zach and Halle colored posters announcing the birth. They are hung over the cribs.

On their way home, Brooke and family dropped by on Monday to see Chelle and Ben's house. Again, Brooke was fascinated with the twins. She said, "I wish I could stay. We have to go home. We've got pow-wow in the next few days."

Coming home - grinning from ear to ear

Eve (on the right) looks so excited to finally be home.

A memorable birthday

Kram took some fun family pictures after the family dinner at Trisha's.

The grandkids were having too much fun with Kayla to join us.

Sparklers

Greg and Kayla brought sparklers for the kids. We didn't want to wait for nightfall. As you can see, the kids were pretty excited.

A wee setback

It doesn't look like Eve is coming home today. She hasn't gained any weight the last two days, which was a requirement for coming home. They are going to do another hematocrit to see if it is improving. They are also concerned that maybe her heart is working a bit too hard, because of her heart murmur.

Hopping to the doctor's office

Dressed in her bunny "going to the doctor's outfit", we hopped on over to Dr. Fruin's office. [Thanks, Jill, for the recommendation. She is great.]

They seemed surprised that we needed an appointment days after being released, but that is what the NICU wanted. Weighed with her clothes on, she was 6-14, but I'm guessing that is a half pound too high.

Everything was great!

A little healthy competition...

We've been telling Eve she really needs to get home soon. Savannah has already placed dibs on the newer crib. She's worn some of the cutest outfits. She sucked on all of the nipples.

Eve has taken it to heart. She had had her feeding tube removed, and if all goes well, she will be home on Saturday.

Last night Eve had (supposedly) gained 3 ounces (from the loss of the previous day). It sounds like a scale problem to me. They have her at six pounds three ounces.

Hiccups at 3 a.m.

I think Grandmas and grandbabies are a perfect match. Grandmas don't sleep well and grandbabies get hiccups in the middle of the night. It's a perfect match.

Preschool at the hospital

Just when I thought Michelle should check out preschool at the hospital, Savannah is (cross your fingers) coming home! She weighs 6 pounds 3.5 ounces, but she still looks and acts so tiny. If she keeps eating, and passes her carseat test (to make sure she can tolerate it for the length of a ride home), she will come home tomorrow.

Michelle and Ben wish both of the girls were coming home, but I'm thinking it will be nice to get up to speed with one before we have two here.

Eve is also growing, but she has been slacking on her bottle feeding - so she may be a few more days. Both girls have been anemic, but Jill says that's just part of being preemie.

Steve and I were just getting ready to leave to visit the girls when Michelle called with the news, so I hurriedly packed my things and we took off. We saw the girls, and went to Trisha's for a gourmet dinner. Now, I'm just waiting around at their home for the big day to arrive.

Here she is on Tuesday in her coming home outfit.

No thinking allowed

The entrance to our parking lot is closed for a month due to the new Ag building construction. To get us to our parking lot, they have re-routed traffic in front of the student center (by the alumni house). They've doused the cement walkways with sand in an effort to protect them and slowed traffic to five miles per hour. The road is narrow and fences on each side (to keep out pedestrians) make traffic extremely tedious. It is quite the entrance. Just before you get to the parking lot is a stop sign at the entrance to the T. However, with the road closure, there is only a "road closed" sign to the left, so the stop sign is rendered useless. The fellow in front of me, seeing the fruitlessness of a stop sign, rolled through it. I was just thinking, "Yeah, it makes no sense to stop here anymore" but stopped anyway - when police lights started flashing. I absolutely could not believe it. They pulled the guy over for rolling through a stop sign that served no purpose. AND to think the police officer thought sitting across the parking lot was a good use of his time.

ARGG!!! No thinking allowed. A stop sign is a stop sign.

Be careful what you wish for

We bought our condo in 1998 when the lake was nearly at high water mark. I have never seen it that high since, that is until this year. While it still has a few feet to reach high water mark, there is absolutely no beach. There is no way to get out to a boat, unless you love tromping through marshy, buggy weeds for thirty yards followed by another thirty yards of rock bottomed, reed filled water.

It could be a rough year at Bear Lake. One of my favorite things to do is walk along the absolutely stupendous beach.

Not this year.

In the past we have wished for more water, but now I'm beginning to think we made a mistake. It reminds me of the stories of my youth where someone was granted three magic wishes and then squandered them away.

I thought I understood frugality...

I just finished a book called, Little Heathens, written by a woman very close to my parent's ages. The language was a bit crude in parts (and a few F words that you can easily avoid as they are well announced), but I found it to be a trip down the memory lane of my parents' early life: outhouses, no refrigeration, horses, chickens, milking cows, canning, and lots of Yankee ingenuity.

Here is a quote from the book:

“We were taught that if you bought something it should last forever—or as close to
forever as we could contrive. I think one of the cleverest tricks was how we extended the lives of socks. When the socks of the biggest child developed holes in the toes, Grandma, using her dressmaker’s shears, would cut off the end, sew it closed on the sewing machine, and pass the socks down to the child next in size. When the socks developed holes again, she would repeat this until the sock had been passed down to the child with the smallest foot. You think that was the end of those socks? “Not on your tintype!” as she would have put it. She cut the ribbed tops off of those socks and they did duty sewn into the ends of sleeves of fall and winter jackets and coats to keep out the bitter cold.

“Of course, there were times when the socks developed holes in the heels. This repair called for painstaking darning, always done by females and nearly always done during their so called leisure time. But there was a limit to how often socks could be darned, and when they had been “all darned out” we were resourceful to the end. We cut them into small squares and tossed them into the shoe-shine box to be used for buffing cloths. Or we cut them lengthwise into two-inch widths and clamped them into the reusable mop handle designed for this purpose.

*****

She talks about using her finger to remove all the residual egg white from an egg. I have seen some frugal behavior in my time, but I've never seen anyone do that. I've been wanting to try it to see if it would even yield much, but I can't ever remember to try it.

After breakfast, my Grandmother Hurst used to dump all of the half finished glasses of orange juice back into the pitcher saying "These have hardly been touched." My Dad was frugal (saving every screw, remnant of wood, and piece of rope that crossed his path), but we weren't so frugal we recycled orange juice.

They rarely got store-bought food, but when they did, they even enjoyed the packaging. They wrapped their sandwiches for school lunch in wax paper they took from the inner sack of a cereal box. Each day they would fold it up for reuse the next day.

In the book, she talks about treating a cut by wrapping it with a spiderweb, using ear wax to sooth a bee sting, using a drying egg white to extract a sliver. She gives lots of recipes too. I found myself remembering so many things I have been told about life in the 1930's and things I saw at the old homestead.

Is this monopoly money?

The last time I was to the dermatologist for wart removal, I asked about a few small milia that I typically dig out. They were (of course) appalled that I would dig them and and suggested I should have microderm abrasion. Well, its been six months, and the milia are back. I called to see if there was something I could do to remove the milia that would not be considered strictly cosmetic (and immune to health insurance coverage). They said, "No", but that I should come in for a free cosmetic analysis.

While the tech said my skin was good, if I wanted to get the most bang for my buck, she would suggest:

1. Botox, around my eyes and eyebrow $150-$400, lasts up to six months
2. Filler, around my nasolabial folds (between nose and corners of mouth), $550, lasts up to 12 months
3. Chemical Peels, package of 6 treatments, for $750. Expect a few days of "down time"
4. HydraFacial - package of 6 treatments for $600

She also recommended some good serums to rebuild skin
a. Kinerase Advanced Repair Serum .5 fluid oz - $132
b. Skinmedica, TNS Essential Serum, 1 oz - $250
c. TNS Illuminating Eye Cream (to thicken skin under eyes), .5 oz $80

She also recommended some sunscreen that is a tinted powder, so it can go over your makeup. .21 oz, $50

I did find the serums and sunscreen online at somewhat cheaper.

So is this monopoly money? Do people really pay that much to hide a wrinkle or two? A permanent solution or one paid for by my insurance may get a second glance, but this is major money for something I doubt anyone but me would notice.

There was a residual effect, however. I decided I could afford some high end over the counter moisturizer with 30 SPF.

Vanity at 94

Steve's sisters indicated they were having such stress trying to carry on a phone conversation with his Mom, that they asked us to see what helps were available.

After numerous emails and phone calls, I found a state funded center for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing in Taylorsville. They consented to come and bring various assistive technology. After we got the visit arranged, I started asking Alda why she didn't use her hearing aids. I really hadn't realized how little she uses her hearing aids. It appears it is less than ten times a year. I asked her why she didn't wear them. She said they really didn't help much, and she didn't like the feeling of something stuffed in her ears. She said, "At church, I still can't hear the speakers." I reminded her that she wasn't going to church these days, so how something worked at church wasn't a huge issue.

I asked her why she didn't use the T.V. ears she had been given for her birthday. She said they really helped, but then she couldn't hear the telephone ring as well. I reminded her that she had flashers on the telephone. Of course, since she naps a lot during the day, she won't see the flashing with her eyes closed. I also doubt she hears the telephone very well with the volume on the TV turned up to jet engine level.

Then, I started to worry that I was having a woman travel from Taylorsville to give us suggestions when Alda wasn't even wearing hearing aids.

We contacted USU and made an appointment to have her hearing aids checked. The intern said that hearing aids have changed so much in ten years that it was like comparing a Model T to a Jaguar. Alda had significant wax blockage (which they removed) and significant hearing loss, but they were quite sure hearing aids would make a huge difference. The question is, "Would she wear them?" They said she could try the $3000 hearing aids for a month, and would only pay for the $200 fitting charges if she decided to return them.

I tried to get her to commit to wearing them. She said things like, "I do pretty well without anything." ARGG!! Anyway, after three hours of testing and talking, we ordered them. They should be in sometime this week.

We went ahead with the appointment with the assistive technology person. We ordered a "free" phone that was adjustable to 50 decibels. In addition, the woman had something called a pocket talker or a mino personal amplifier that we could try for a month or two before buying one. I was amazed at how well Alda could hear with it.

During the two hour appointment, we said such things as, "Which would you rather have, the amplifier or the volume on the TV turned up loud?" and got definitive answers such as "I don't know". We tried to show her that she could both hear the phone and the doorbell better with the amplifier. The woman explained that hearing is NOT going to be like it was at twenty; you have to expect differences. I explained that turning the volume way up wasn't an option if she had other people around and that you couldn't turn the volume up on dinner conversation. The woman explained that its "Use it or Lose it! Communication occurs in the brain. When we lose our ability to hear, the ear stops sending needed information to the brain, effecting the ability to understand what is being said." We gave it our best sales pitch, but by Friday she had given up on the personal amplifier saying, "It messes up my hair" or "I don't like the cord that connects the headphones to the amplifier."

Other than her weekly dinner with Norm/Deb and a trip to our house for Sunday dinner, she rarely leaves the house - yet having her hair unsullied is paramount.

I guess we'll hope the hearing aids turns out better.

Ragnar - I don't get it

The kids ran Ragnar this weekend. I seriously don't get it. The website says, "Think of it as a 188-mile party with 12 best friends. Teams of 12 will rock out to live bands, enjoy the wacky participant costumes, and make life-long friends with teammates and competitors."

They pay $90 each for the privilege of running through the night - three legs each, sleeping on gymnasium floors (for at least 60 minutes), eating in the minivan crammed with five other runners. They left at 4:30 on Friday morning and returned almost forty hours later.

Yet they all said they'd do it again. I can't even imagine it being fun.

The Queen is Angry at You

While Greg, Kram, Brandon, and Trisha ran in Ragnar, Steve, Lori and I took care of the four kids. Here is a conversation I overheard between the boys.

Drew: Let’s play kingdom. [They begin to drag out all the blankets and afghans that they can find. They particularly love the green and white afghans as they serve so many purposes. The white one is Drew’s favorite, but Zach prefers the green one.]

Zach: The green ones are better.

Drew: The white one is magical.

Zach: The green one is magical-er. It can make you disappear.

Drew: The white one can make you melt into the ground!

Zach: The green ones make you totally disappear. The white ones don’t. People still know you are in there.

Drew: Look at me. [Covered with the white one.]

Zach: I still know you’re under there. With the green ones, you disappear. With the white ones, you don’t.

Drew: I’ve melted into the ground.

Zach: No, no, no, no. I’m trying to tell you something. The green one is magical-est. Want to see me disappear? [He puts the green afghan over himself.]

Drew: We need to get the rocking chair. I need to sit.

Drew: [After placing the child’s rocking chair in the TV room and arranging the white afghan over him] SILENCE!!! You have to bow to me.

Zach: Get down. It’s going to be done in five minutes.

Drew: Pretend someone took the baby. [Sitting in the chair.] I’m covered in my long dress [the afghan]. Can you grab a pillow for me?

Zach: [singing] It is going to be hot tomorrow.

Zach: Hey, Let’s go see if Brooke is awake. [They are covered in blankets, walking around like creatures from the black lagoon, peeking through the weave of the afghan.]

Drew: SILENCE

Zach: All right. SILENCE to you.

Drew: No, I say silence.

Zach: I say silence.

Drew: Okay. We both say silence. To other people. The Queen is angry at you.

Gross Food

Brooke has been so interested in the twins. She sent them pictures to color while they were in the hospital, as that is how she spent her time when visiting Drew in the hospital. She has wanted to see them, but since kids aren't allowed in the ICU, they haven't made the trip. She has been concerned that they are not eating well enough to come home. Today she had a suggestion. Brooke said, "The reason the girls won't eat is because the food looks gross. Michelle needs to give them something that looks better." I thought it was adorable.

One more time

After dinner, we took the grandkids for ice cream and to see grandma great. At the dugway, Lori saw an accident so she and the kids stayed behind to testify to what they had seen. Thus, Zach, Halle, Steve and I had lots of time at Aggie Ice Cream waiting for them to come. Halle's only requirement for ice cream was that it be yellow. While lemon was the yellowest, we opted for vanilla to be safe. She was more interested in playing outside on the cement wall along the stairway than she was on eating ice cream. She would walk down the stairs, get a lift from Grandma to the top of the cement wall, and then walk up holding onto the railing with both hands. At the top, she would hold onto Grandpa and jump down. Each time she would hold her pointer finger up to her face and say, "One more time". Other kids were attempting the same thing and would say, "Mom, watch me". Halle would mimic, "Mom, watch me!" - even though her mother was still running Ragnar.

As we visited Grandma Great, Halle was everywhere - discovering things I never knew were there - the pastry brushes hanging inside the cupboard, the dish towels drying on the racks in the closet, the package of Chex Mix stowed in a lower cupboard. She would pull something out of the bag, name it, and then run to ask Grandma Great if she could eat it. Pretty cute!

Man is that he MIGHT have joy

I have a friend who is a pathological pessimist. You have heard the saying, “The optimist sees the glass as half full. The pessimist sees the glass as half full.” She takes it to a whole new level. She sees the missing tablespoon from the glass. If the glass is clear full, she complains that it will become empty ,or someone wanted it to be empty, or she doesn’t like the glass itself.

I have been pondering how to help her. She is difficult to be around, but she is making herself sick.

I have tried patiently listening. I have tried agreeing with her complaints, but pointing out the positive. I have tried disagreeing. Nothing seems to work. She seems hardwired to find the negative in every situation.


I pulled these gems from Susanne Gaddis, So how can one curb a pessimistic attitude? Again, the first step is to recognize that you that you have one. The next step is to train your brain to accept a more positive outlook. This is achieved by taking inventory of your internal dialogue or self-talk. Begin to notice the 1000 to 3000 words per minute you speak to yourself. When your thoughts are not of use or of benefit to you, tell yourself, “CANCEL.” When you start this process you may need to say “Cancel,” a lot. Because your brain will continue to dialogue with itself, the next step is to substitute positive, affirming messages. In time, by stopping negative self-talk and by substituting with positive thoughts, you can develop a better outlook, leading to better relationships which will yield you a better life.



How do you help someone to see the positive? John Maxwell said, ‘Life is ten percent of what happens to me and ninety percent of how I react to it” Similarly, someone said, “Ninety percent of me is good and ten percent of me is bad. If you choose to focus on the 90%, we will be happy. If you choose to focus on the ten percent, you will be miserable.”


Joseph Smith, “Man is that he might have joy.” MIGHT. It is a choice.

You know you're an engineer if...

You know you're an engineer if... the provost and both deans say you are switching colleges.

We fought being merged with Electrical and Computer Engineering and they have allowed us to stay as a separate department, if we make the follow concessions:

1. Our department head go on sabbatical for a year starting July 1.
2. We do a national search for a new department head.
3. We move to the college of engineering
4. We give up a faculty position (for someone that had already decided to leave the university).

Lots of changes.

I can taste the love

Working in Relief Society, I see a lot of service being given one to another. One thing I've noticed is that some people are a lot easier to do things for than others. When service is spontaneous, rather than assigned, I see some people getting all kinds of things done for them and others the bare minimum - even though the needs of the two families are similar. I think it has to do with feeling their gratitude. While I do believe that most people don't serve to be recognized or to get thanks, when there is no thanks and no appreciation, the joy of service seems to be seriously squashed. We take in a lot of meals, but I don't believe the meals are about taking care of one's physical needs. Most people in our neighborhood can afford to pick up Papa Murphys or Rumbis. Taking in food is about showing love - pure and simple.

Merlene Ivie has got to be one of the neatest people to serve. She and Boyd have had a ton of health problems this past year or two. EVERYBODY wants to do things for them because they are so wonderful to give thanks. The last time I took bread over to them, Merlene called immediately and said, "We sure appreciate the bread Steve brought over. The thing that is so special about your bread is the love you put in it." I laughed and told her that she was a special woman who could taste the love. I think that is the secret - being able to recognize the love. What you're given may not be exactly what you wanted, may be too much for your needs, may not be your favorite recipe, and may be a duplicate of what someone else brought - but if you can recognize the love, you are truly grateful.

Life in the fast lane

Just when you think you have mastered the Salt Lake freeway exits, you have a setback. Each day Chelle and I have traveled to the hospital to see the babies. Each day we run errands - grocery shopping, buying a crib mattress, getting drawer dividers, searching out bathroom rugs, going to the bank, finding a filing cabinet. Between new babies and a new house, we are burning through the cash.

Yesterday, after seeing the darling babes lounging in their isolettes, we headed for John Paras furniture store in Ogden. Chelle pumped at the hospital to give us more time. (Pumping every three hours makes scheduling errands a half hour from home a bit tricky.) After a few errands in Centerville, it was close to rush hour. As things started to slow down on the freeway, we convinced ourselves we should just head home rather than continue to Ogden. As we inched down the freeway, we kept seeing flashing signs saying "Seatbelt Info Use" or "Exit 1 mile". We couldn't figure out why anyone would need seatbelt info, but we soon found out. Looking for any exit to get us out of rush hour freeway traffic, we took at exit that went nowhere. It was just a police check point for seatbelts! We were laughing as we got our "info". The packet we got did include a tin of red hots and I must say traffic was much better as we exited, so I guess we weren't out much.

We did continue on to Ogden and got a glider/ottoman for the nursery, so we were successful.

The babies are doing well. They are starting to gain back the weight they lost after birth. They still have IVs, nasal canulas with low dosage oxygen, and a feeding tube, but the doctors seem pleased with their progress. Ben and Michelle go back to the hospital every evening and have been able to hold each of the babies for a half hour or more. Chelle thought she might get to try nursing next week.

Unstoppable Halle

Halle is at such a fun age. She is unstoppable – constant motion. This morning she helped me put recyclables in the bin, and we stayed outside. I grabbed my purse so I could record her conversation. As I grabbed a pad and pen, she grabbed my wallet.
Here is her commentary:

Zip it. I zip it. In there. Money. Another zipper. I need money. NamMa money. Mommy money is? I don’t see it. I need money. Put in my pocket. I need money. I did it [putting it in pocket].

I don’t see it (money is hard to get out of wallet]. I need money. Put in my pocket. I need money. I did it! Another money. Another money. See. [Laughing]

Got one. More money. Help me [hard to get out of wallet].

NamMa: You need to stand up.

I dropped. I put it in my pocket. [Hopping.]

[Now every time she puts a coin in her pocket, she stands up so it will go in better.]

Rock. I can’t get it.

I stand up [to put money in].

I dropped one. Other one. [Carefully puts each coin in pocket.] Big one in. [a quarter]

[Chelle comes outside.]
NamMa: Maybe Chelle would like some money.
[Halle grins and gives her the last three coins, one at a time.]

Put in my pocket.

Sky. Clouds [pointing]
Lets go see.
Not blow away [clouds]

[Seeing her welcome home poster of the babies on the railing] My picture. Broke it. Hole.

[Poinging to Chelle’s hospital bracelets for the twins} One Savannah. One Eve.


[Looking at picture] This pink. This purple. This yellow. This orange. This blue. This purple.

[Chelle has stood up. Halle pats porch where Chelle was sitting, inviting her to rejoin us.] Sit me.

Blue glasses [on Michelle]
Mommy’s car gone. Mommy drived.

[Seeing A on my shirt. Starts singing ABC song. Chelle joins in.]

One Savannah. One Eve. (pointing to hospital bracelets Chelle is wearing.]

[Hops like a frog up stairs.]

Heard birdie singing. I hear airplane.

Birdie walking. Birdie singing. See airplane. [hop down porch stairs]

I see rock.

I hopped. Need my shoes. Helicopter. See airplane. Going up here. [Climbs on railing.] See airplane. Mud rock. Throw it.

Zach: I can get a mud rock.

Me too. See airplane. Over there.

[Hops down stairs. Falls.} OWW. [Then up and running]

I on. [Climbs on water meter]
Hole. Hole dropping. [Fills hole with dirt]. Rock go in there. Hole done. I made it.

NamMa: What’s this?

It’s a plant. I on. [Steps on water meter. Sprinkles dirt on water meter. Jumps on and off.]

I see Zachy. I digging [with stick].
[Falls flat. Picks herself up without a whimper and keeps running.]

[In garage. Zach climbs in play oven. Halle adjusts the controls.]
Zach in there. [Shuts oven door.] Bye Zach. [opens door]. Hi Zach.
Making soup. [Turns controls.]

Two, Five, Sixteen [playing with clock on side of kitchen playset].

Ice cream [licking hardware removed from babies' dresser that Trish and Brandon are refinishing for the twins].

Vanilla ice cream. Tasty.

Zach: Do you want chocolate ice cream?

UhHuh.
All done. Two. Need other one. All done. [Brings me four ice cream cones.] Having more.

[Takes out play sink. Steps in it. Trisha appears on porch.] Mamma go running.
Trisha: No. Go to park.
Feed ducks. [And they are off…]

The Bouncing Taxi Driver

Being as I'm in Farmington to be with Chelle, I got to go to Zach's final pre-school program. Zach couldn't have been more excited. You had no trouble picking him out as he was always bouncing. It was so cute.

The program was mainly singing - with kids acting out the part of wind or raindrops, or holding flags. They told the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff (with audience participation). Zach was the "taxi driver" in a version of the following poem.

Dear Mom,
Thank you for all the times,
You cleaned up after me.
You always kissed my pain away,
When I scraped my little knee.

You're my chef, my maid, my taxi driver too,
I'd be a living mess, if I didn't have you.

You're the one that cheers me on,
A listening ear when I'm feeling down,
Everything seems okay,
Whenever you're around.

I should probably say this more often,
I'm glad a day is dedicated to you,
You really need to know,
Just how much, "I love you."

Roller Coaster Ride

In talking to Aunt Jill, she says the first weeks with preemies is a roller coaster ride - not steady improvement.

I talked to Chelle this morning. The girls are now in a separate room - just for the two of them - with one nurse for both of them. This is better, because in the larger room it was hard to visit, and if a new baby was being admitted, they couldn't be there at all.

Savannah is now on a ventilator and is still sedated (because the intubation is evidently not pleasant). She has an IV through her head. I guess that is common as it is hard to have the IV in one place all the time. Both girls are now on antibiotics. They are treating both babies the same way - as evidently when one has problems, the other often does as well.

Eve is having some apnea and bradycardia. Apnea means a period in which breathing stops. In premature babies, apnea is any pause in breathing that lasts longer than 20 seconds, causing bradycardia, or a drop in the baby’s blood oxygen level.

They have talked about putting in an arterial line to make giving meds easier.

Because they removed the CPAP machine (through her nose) and put an IV in her head, Chelle got to see Savannah's "cute nose and fuzzy blond hair".

The pneumothorax (or collapsed lung) which Savannah has can be caused by a hole the size of a pin prick.

Both Ben and Chelle are trying to get enough rest so they don't get sick - as if they are sick, they can't visit the girls.

The day has arrived!

After more than six weeks in the hospital, Chelle delivered the twins today. Her surgery kept getting bumped until after two when they were born. Eve came first at 3 pounds 13 ounces and 16.5 inches (Apgar scores of 8, 9). Savannah came second at 4 pounds 3 ounces and 15.75 inches (Apgar scores of 7, 9). They are breathing on their own, with a C-Pap machine (via canula) to help out. They are darling! It was hard to get a good pictures with the tubes, cap, and IV. I'll let Ben post the proud Daddy pictures from the U of U NICU unit.

Chelle seems to be doing well. She is in some pain, but is in good spirits.

It feels like being thrown under the bus...

We heard last week that there is a "good chance" the university will merge the Computer Science Department with Electrical and Computer Engineering - in the College of Engineering. For forty seven years we have been a separate program. Now with a flick on a hand, we could lose our identity. The "reason" they give is money, but it just doesn't save that much. It feels like we've been thrown under the bus. We are appealing the decision. I'll keep you posted.

USU acquired its first computer in 1961. It was an IBM 1620, the first one delivered west of the Mississippi. The computer was under the supervision of Dr. Rex L. Hurst, Head, Applied Statistics Department. The computer and the department were housed in the basement of Old Main. Dr. Hurst and Dr. Wendell Pope developed courses and a bachelor's degree program in Computer Science. The BS degree in Computer Science was approved in 1964.

Wicked Weekend

We just returned from the Wicked Weekend. Kimberly purchased tickets for 30 of her closest friends (including family) for Wicked at the Morrison Center. It was a great time. Everybody was there, except for Ben and Michelle. We enjoyed good food and good company, and a lot of craziness.

With church at 2:30, we got home in time to go to our meetings. This is the second time we've made arrangements not to be in church - and ended up getting home in time to go. This 2:30 church is GREAT! I know it is tough on young families, but for us oldies, it is the best schedule.

DC on a dime

I'm in DC for an NSF panel. Being as I have two funded NSF grants, I get on the panel docket a lot. The first time I was here, I took a $50 cab from the airport. Now, I pay $1.85 to take the metro. In all the previous times, I've stayed at the Hilton - which is twenty steps from the metro stop, at the rate of $250 a night. The last time I was here, other panelists were bragging about how cheap their hotel was. I had the record high.

NSF gives us a daily stipend which is intended to cover food, hotel, transportation (outside of airfare) and incidentals. Anything we don't spend, we keep (but have to pay taxes on). I figured with all Michelle's hospital bills, she could use whatever I net out of the trip. With this motivation for my frugality, I did a little searching for the cheapest place to stay. See my accommodations at around $101 a night (including taxes). It's about a three quarter mile walk to the NSF building, but I've quite enjoyed seeing a different part of DC. It even offers a free breakfast - but since we have fruit and pastries at the panel, I've not used it.


This photo of Highlander Motel is courtesy of TripAdvisor

An interesting story

At stake meeting, a member of the stake presidency told the following story.

My sister was traveling from LA to SLC when she fell into conversation with a woman from Rexburg who said she had been helping her sister with the delivery of her ninth child. It seemed clear the woman was LDS. Soon her story unfolded. I'll call her Ann. When Ann was a teenager her family moved to Beaverton Oregon. They were active in the church, in fact her best friend's mom was her Laurel adviser.

When Ann found herself pregnant out of wedlock, her family disowned her. Her mother gave her a list of homeless shelter's and kicked her out of the home. Shortly after, the family moved to Texas and did not keep in contact with her. Ann was indeed homeless, and remained so during the pregnancy. She begged for food in Portland and lived under a bridge. After the baby was born, she realized she needed a better life plan. She learned of a program that would pay for her to become a kindergarten teacher, even providing daycare for her baby.

Things started to improve for Ann. She went to school and got an apartment. At this time, the father of the child was released from prison (on a DUI charge, which evidently was representative of his lifestyle). He sought out Ann and asked for her assistance. After moving into the apartment, they didn't have enough to survive and eviction was threatened.

One evening they were arguing. The fight turned loud and ugly. In the heat of the argument, there was a knock at the door. The man at the door said simply, "I am your home teacher. What do you need and how can I help?"

They told him that they had no money, and the boyfriend needed a job. The home teacher asked what kind of work he did. He said he had done some construction. The home teacher said he had a concrete business and needed a worker. Could he start tomorrow?

Well, the boyfriend worked for the home teacher for several years. He joined the church and eventually married Ann. Ann says she has no idea how her home teacher found her as she had no contact with the church or her family for several years.

The stake presidency member concluded with, "We are often told to magnify our callings, but we usually interpret that to mean 'make larger'. Instead of making our callings larger, let's try to cause them to increase in intensity."

I loved the home teacher angle, but I couldn't get over why anyone would give their daughter a list of homeless shelters and then leave town. That is totally unbelievable. So you people who live in Rexburg and Beaverton, do you think this really happened?

Graduation Dinner

I was in charge of the graduation dinner again this year. It wasn't given to me until LATE, but it turned out fun. We had awards such as "Loch Ness Award - for least likely to be found" or "Koolaid Gang award - for best group work" or the "Jeff Gordon Award - for the one most likely to be found running to class".

Then we played Family Feud - students against faculty. We collected responses with Survey Monkey.

Perfect Company

Trisha and crew are "homeless" and are drifting between our home and Ben/Michelle's new home in Farmington. They moved out of their home a week ago, and are waiting "patiently" for their new home to be vacated.





They are the perfect company.

They make sure the mice are well behaved.

The know how to relax.

They help with Sunday Dinner.

They greet you as you get home for work.

They are easily entertained.

They have been so much fun to have!

What is fun about teaching...

I used to wonder if teaching would become boring as you explained the same thing over and over and over, year after year. Would you get tired of the sound of your own voice?

Today reminded me of those ponderings. In my multi-agent systems course, we were talking about mechanisms which incentivize participants to be honest. It is a fairly complicated concept with lots of cases, rules, and the math to back it up. We talked about ideas, insights, and counter-examples for much longer than you could have guessed. It was a great volley of ideas as they wondered about other solutions, challenged the rules, and compared the ideas to other topics. It was fun.

I think what is missing from some of our teachers in the church is the ability to REALLY understand and value the comments made (and the comments not made). Questions and answers are often intended to keep the audience awake by having them parrot back definitions and terminology rather than stimulating thinking or wanting real input.

If I’m explaining something difficult to my CS students, I can’t just tell them how to do something, I have to be able to understand their misconceptions and deficiencies and adjust my presentation accordingly. I can’t help them to understand until I really see it from their standpoint. I continually find myself saying, “That is a great thought. I hadn’t considered that before.” And I MEAN it. For me, that is the fun of teaching – to consider things you hadn’t thought of before. In addition, the fun of teaching is to see people understand for the first time as you explain it in a way specifically tailored to their way of thinking.

In the gospel, the concepts are simpler, so (often) we think we can just present the material and there will be no disagreement. Thus, we make the mistake of thinking there is a single point of view. We give lessons that assume everyone in the audience is happily married (in the temple) with children, rather than consider another vantage point.

I admit that mental gymnastics are required of the teacher in being able to hear something you weren’t expecting, understand the motivation, appreciate the viewpoint, react so as not to offend, and incorporate the idea into the presentation without losing the main point of the lesson.

Judge Not

We had a very strange Relief Society lesson yesterday. It was on Charity, which wouldn't have made it odd, but some of the comments were odd. I don't want to be critical, but just trust me, there were some mighty odd comments.

There were four points to help you develop charity. We divided into groups to discuss separate parts. Our part began with "Don't think you are better than everyone else." I thought it was odd - about as thought provoking as "Don't yell at people". Why would they have to tell us not to think we are better than others? Do people really go around thinking they are better than others? I guess I did that in seventh grade, but I hope I've matured a bit since then. I decided the lesson meant to say, "Don't judge others."

Teaching has taught me a good deal about judging. I've decided that most people are doing the best they can, given their priorities. What seems unreasonable behavior to me would likely be completely sane if I just understood their motivations. Students who sleep through class aren't usually telling me I'm boring. They are only saying, "I work the night shift and am sleep deprived."

I remember something that happened several years ago that gives me insight into judging others. I was in charge of the tutor room which seated a half dozen students. The tutor was to encourage the students to leave the tutor room after they had been there too long, so that others could get help. One day, the tutor on duty came to me saying there was a woman that just wouldn't leave when asked. I marched into the tutor room to explain to the student that she really needed to leave. She looked at me, but then went back to her work, totally ignoring what I was saying. I tried repeatedly to explain she needed to leave, but she just kept working as though I weren't there. It really made me mad. I went back to my office and called security to physically remove her from the room. I had barely gotten off the phone when the student came to my office (across the hall from the tutor room) to ask a question. I thought it was a bit odd she would come to me for help, as surely she knew I was angry with her. As soon as she spoke, I turned a hundred shades of red. I hurriedly said, "Excuse me. I need to make a phone call first." I had to call security and tell them not to come. The woman wasn't ignoring me. She was deaf.

I love this thought from Henry Eyring:
"A professor of mine, Ray Bauer, years ago corrected me when I put the label of "irrational" on someone's behavior. He said: 'Hal, you'll understand people better if you assume that people's behavior is rational, at least from their point of view. Try to see what they see.'

A perfect day...

We just watched "The Ultimate Gift". I'm sure we'd seen it before, as after every scene you'd think, "Yeah. I knew that was going to happen."

It did have one line I really like. Emily, who's dying of leukemia, says, "My dream was a perfect day and I'm just finishing it. My dream is to be with people I love, that love each other and that love me."

I love that thought. What a simple wish for a perfect day.

I remember some time ago talking to a friend about a host of things that were less than perfect. As she offered advice, I said something like, "Yeah, that's what my sister would say." She stopped and said, "You have a sister who offers sympathy and insight! Wow. What a blessing. I wish I had a sister like that."

I've thought about that a lot. We all have lots of wonderful things in our lives that we don't often appreciate as much as we should. Thanks to all of you for being part of my perfect days.

Is he nice or crazy?

Chelle was admitted into the hospital on Monday. We hope she'll be there six weeks - waiting for the twins to be big enough to thrive outside the womb. On her first night there, I called and asked, "Is your husband still there? If so I'll call back." She said, "Oh, he's spending the night." I was SURPRISED! Is he just a nice guy or is he crazy? I have spent enough nights at the hospital, both as a patient and as a loved-one, that I know it is an experience to be avoided at all costs. People are in and out of the room all night - checking, prodding, poking. Morning begins before the rooster ever thought of crowing. The light flashes in your eyes as technicians enter and leave. Monitors get out of whack and start beeping. The recliners could pass for torture chambers - not long enough to get comfortable, collapsing into their upright position as you move. If you have to use the bathroom, the patients bathroom is usually off-limits so you are wandering down the hall to find public facilities. You are sleeping in your street clothes - and there is nothing comfortable about that. A night in the hospital is spelled I-N-S-O-M-N-I-A! With a young child or very sick individual who needs someone to speak for them or who is too frightened to stay alone, I have often spent the night at the hospital, but I've never considered staying when my presence was just a matter of nicety.

Yet Ben stayed - just to keep her company. I'm not sure that he isn't a bit crazy, but it sure is nice to know that my daughter and grandkids have such a loving husband and father.

Girls Night Out

It was girls night out while the fellows went to the Priesthood Session. Girls night out was pretty thinly attended (just Chelle and I), but we had a good time. We went to Rumbi's for dinner, and ran into Judy and Jessica Nielson. I hadn't seen Jessica for a while, so we had a good time visiting. She asked me to tell Lori and Kim she asked about them. We also saw Renee and Dan (from work).

Following dinner, Chelle and I had crafts night. Lisa and Cara motivated us with their burp cloths. We couldn't decide which kind was better (diaper backed rectangles or flannel backed bean shaped), so we made some of each. We bought some cute pink fabric, but also used all kinds of flannel remnants. I'm guessing even twins can't use all the burp cloths we made. We were motivated to finish the quilts that had been embroidered (by Chelle and by Grandma Hurst), so we planned fabric for those as well.

Chelle enters the hospital Monday!

My Offering Is Accepted..

We attended the Young Women camp silent auction tonight. It was well done - door prizes, entertainment, good food, lots to buy. The young women had contributed items, but ward members were also involved in donating. I hadn't been to one of these fund raisers before, so I didn't know what to expect. There were some handmade items, a twin mattress, some games, a photo shoot, Mary Kay cosmetics, meals, cinnamon rolls, a baby blanket. I acquired the most unusual item. One of the young men had made roses out of duct tape. He stood back from the crowd and watched the reaction to his roses. To me he said, "I sure hope someone buys those, because I made them." I didn't know what I would do with duct tape roses, so I didn't sign auction sheet. As I ate my dinner, I realized that I really needed to buy them. The minimum bid was $5, but I figured they were "worth" at least twice that. I was the only bidder.

I haven't figured out where to keep them, but every time I see them I will remember Colton and his desire to have his contribution accepted and appreciated. Aren't we all like that? Some of us are not so open as to admit, "I sure hope someone buys those" but everyone one of us needs to feel like we are enough.

Thanks, Colton! The message was well worth the ten bucks.

A Storyteller

We've been to several viewings lately. Tonight it was for Jim Bishop - a member of the ward when Steve was bishop. His death was quite a shock. His wife said, "If anybody else says 'He was needed on the other side more than he was needed here', I'm going to punch them. I needed him here." I understand the sentiment. I suppose the comment is supposed to make you feel better, but we understand so little of the 'other side', it is hard to make a compelling case that he was needed more. Plus, the Lord's time moves so quickly compared to ours - he maybe only needed ten more minutes in the Lord's time to make it until a ripe old age.

In talking with the sons, it was interesting to find out what they were doing. One is a surveyor, like his dad. One designs solar panels. One is a storyteller. I wasn't sure what he meant. While I know what storytellers do, I wasn't sure how you make your living as one - unless you teach storytelling at the university. No, he doesn't teach. He just tells stories - around the campfire, at Halloween, at family gatherings. Who knew? He said the recession hasn't been good for business. I'm fascinated. A story teller. That is an awesome profession.

Taking in Dinner

I think "taking in dinner" is a Mormon tradition. Today was my turn to take in dinner to a family whose month old baby is back in the hospital with RSV. When our RS president asked me to bring in a meal, she said, "When the baby was born, I didn't feel like we did enough for the family. This will give us a chance to be of more service."

Since I work until five most days, getting dinner to a family by six isn't the easiest. I woke up early and got Lori Hurst's Crispy Parmesan chicken fixed. (I love that recipe.) I made a raspberry jello salad recipe as well. I left work a half hour early (as we needed to stop by Alda's to take in the garbage can) and arrived home just in time to throw the chicken in the oven. I made ice cream pudding, Alfredo pasta, and thawed rolls from Sunday. I planned how to get everything there without using dishes that would have to be returned. I gathered everything in the car and showed up on their doorstep.

What happened next was pretty funny. The husband said, "Oh, I didn't know you were bringing dinner. We were just eating cold cereal." And they were! I guess he thought that sounded funny so he said, "Oh, this is really just after school snacks (that they were eating at six p.m.- ooookkkay), we're happy to eat what you brought." His wife was in the hospital with the baby. I'm sure she just forgot to tell him that dinner was being brought it.

Funny that I didn't even care they didn't need dinner. I think we bring in dinner to show love, so hopefully they found the love. :-)

Fake it Til You Make It

Someone challenged me to do something nice every day. Shortly after receiving that challenge, the Young Women camp director announced a fund raiser in which they auction off contributions made by ward members. I thought, "A nice person would make something special for the fund raiser." I thought, "Well, I am not that nice." But then I decided I could pretend to be nice - 'fake it until I made it'.

Anyway, with that in mind, I decided to make a "game quilt" for a Mountain Crest fan. Here it is!

Janis Ian

We went to see Janis Ian last night as part of a collection of performances we bought tickets to. She is a folk singer from the sixties. She is my age, almost exactly. SO, tell me I don't look this old.

The event was poorly attended - maybe a third full.

The performance was an interesting one. Her songs were all stories, "At Seventeen" and "Society's Child" were ones my friends recognized from the sixties. I only recognized the first. At the time she wrote them, they were quite controversial. She told of being booed off the stage because of Society's Child. She had an interesting perspective on growing up in the sixties - racial bias, Viet Nam, the role of women.

Her perspective on being lesbian was insightful. She talked about being married in Toronto to her partner of twenty years. She had felt it was "just a piece of paper", but was very moved by the experience. She said, "Finally, our relationship was accepted by a nation." I appreciated understanding that emotion.

I will never forgive her for using the f-bomb in a song. Her manager had asked her, "Can you do your show in Logan Utah?" She knew she was playing before a conservative audience, yet didn't care. I just don't understand why people feel the need to use that word!

The four state tour

It's a real for state tour - Starting out in Utah, spending several days in Arizona, a night in New Mexico and a night in Colorado.

Mesa Verde is truly amazing. The extent of the building is incredible. Some of the complexes had more than fifty rooms. Four storied towers, round subterranean kivas, round lookouts, impressive masonry – everywhere you looked were impressive sights. The cliff dwellings were amazing as they were neither accessible from the mesa top not the valley bottom. They evidently went to and from the dwellings via foot and hand holes pecked into the rock. I’m guessing babies didn’t leave until they were several years old, or there were a lot of unfortunate accidents.

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The cliff dwellings were in the minority. Pithouses were more common. The architecture allowed both air flow and storage of grains and game. The museum was really nice. I was impressed with the weaving of clothing and sandals. They weaved yucca fibers, human hair, and feathers. There was an intricate doll board and even a child’s tea set. Woven sandals were impressive as well. Yucca fibers were boiled or soaked and then pounded to expose the inner fibers. These fibers were also used to produce rope, snares, mats, baskets, belts, and much more. Yucca plants were also used as a food source and as a source of soap made from the roots. The way the plants were used in so many ways was amazing.

The dioramas of Indian life were so well done, a stark contrast from the ones the kids had to do for social studies projects.















This is the Cliff Palace. I'll post some of our pictures when we get home, but this will have to do for now...

Chaco Culture National History Park

On Friday, we went to Chaco Culture National History Park. It was about 60 miles from Farmington, New Mexico - thirteen of which was on a dirt road. The ruins were like nothing I have ever seen. They were used by the Hopi and other Indian groups between 850 and 1150 AD. The great houses were built for ceremonial purposes. There were numerous kivas (Hopi for ceremonial chamber) throughout the complex. Kivas are round, below ground structures with a bench around the edges. In the middle are floor vaults which are used for a variety of purposes. They can be filled with sand and used as a foot drum where natives would dance and have the sounds carried through the ground. Sometimes they were used to store seed. In each kiva was a fire pit and deflector. There were four seating pits to hold braces for the roof. While we saw no roofs, drawings showed them to be crosshatched with smaller timber.

The buildings themselves were free standing structures, composed of numerous rooms, some multi-story. One complex of rooms could be three acres. The walls were formed with a sandstone and mortar combination looking much like stone or brick walls. They termed the construction “core and veneer” as the center of the two foot thick walls was filled with rubble. Along the backside of the buildings were round holes about nine inches in diameter at regular spacings. They held logs that extended over the rooms as roofs and out the backside as support for balconies. The site was discovered around 1849 and the balconies were in place until early 1900’s when they were scavenged for fire wood.

The wood for construction was transported from forests up to 60 miles away. Wood was cut, trimmed, peeled, and left to dry out for a year so transportation was easier. The ends were cut flush and sanded with a stone tool. They figure 26,000 trees were transported into the area for building purposes. They can use scientific methods to date the trees, telling when they were cut and, in some cases, where it came from.

Dirt had been moved to build up the plaza to twelve feet above ground level, either for prominence or to control damage from flooding.

At Chetro Ketl, there is evidence of Mexican influence in the architecture – as there is a colonnade (virtually nonexistent in the Puebloan Southwest). (See the picture below.) It is characteristic of the Toltec culture from 700 to 1000 AD in Chihuahua Mexico. Trade existed between Paguime and Chaco at that time – so possibly architectural ideas were exchanged as well.

Evidence of irrigation ditches is found. Most of the rainfall occurs in the summer, so it seems the Chacoan used the ditches to transport the water to storage ponds and fields. The canyon is at the base of mesas. There is evidence of ladders and handholds in the rock where the Chacoan climbed to the top of the mesa where they could follow roads to a variety of locations all around the four corners region.

The petroglyphs were also interesting. They are created in several ways. Incised designs are carved with a sharp instrument. Some are pecked using hammerstones and a striker (for precision). Some of the areas had been first smoothed using an abrasive stone. They also used paints to create their images. They ground up minerals such as calcium carbonate (white), hematite and ochre (red), and charcoal (black) and mixed them with a binder such a plant or animal oils, eggs, blood, or urine to adhere paint to the surface. I kept wondering if Dad had ever seen these ruins. He would have loved them!

Many of the ruins have not even been excavated. They are filled with sand and look like small mounds.

If you haven’t seen the ruins, it is definitely worth the trip.