Younger Brother Comics

A bit of levity for your Wednesday this week... These are comics drawn by Chef. He has a (shall we say) unique sense of humor. I hope you enjoy the laugh at sibling rivalry and boyhood foibles as much as I did!

Little Green Monster

I am a strong believer that God sends us messages, and sometimes, if we ignore His message, and it's really, really important that we listen, He says it a little stronger until we get the hint. Right? Right. Well, today is a very good example of why we should listen the first time. Read on, friends and you'll see exactly what I mean! Be forewarned though that drinking while you read this post might not be in the best interest of your computer and you may end up with a "message" of your own!

My story actually began two days ago. For the past two days, I have been very seriously contemplating whether or not to attend a church meeting taking place tonight. If I go, it will be really only to resign my position on the council in person vs. over e-mail or through snail mail alone.

Yesterday I waited for a message, but what I wanted to hear didn't come, so I second guessed what I thought of it all. Then this morning, I got up and our middle child - Smeagol - was ill with a fever. Hmmm... clue one, people. But... Papa is a good dad and can take care of a sick kid.

So to give myself a mental distraction, I pulled out my Little Green Clean Machine and used it to fulfill a promise made to Jeff just over a week ago: to steam clean the dining room chairs. My chairs are now drying and look so much better! In the meantime, Smeagol had a couple of Children's Tylenols and slept on the couch.

Then I got an e-mail about tonight's meeting. The way it is being set up, the meeting looks more like a lecture-to-be or a firing squad than any kind of a true meeting. This is not a very comforting thought - (let me be clear: this is clue 2.) But still I prayed and contemplated on, Lord, please give me some sign of whether I should go.

I did the dishes and began making lunch: a bit of rice for Smeagol and Miso Soup for the rest.

Then I came 'round the corner a short while later to see this:

This is my Little Green Monster, aka "Buttercup." She found all the rubber stamps and ink pads and went to town. Papa, before you panic, please know we cleaned up fast enough that none of it is on floor or furniture, etc. For the rest of the world, this is a sneaky and smart almost-two year old and what can happen in fewer than five minutes, even just after she has been fussed at for something else. Pop, also know that we have thrown out most, if not all, of the ink pads in the house now. Until I have a lock box for such items, nothing in the house is safe! I'll be getting one tonight or tomorrow. Trust me!

This, I suppose would be God getting a bit louder and more emphatic. I'm beginning to listen.

What I now perceive He is saying is,

Do go out tonight, but do not go to the church meeting. Nothing good awaits you

there. Instead, go to the mall, alone, and enjoy the peace of using the gift card

you've had for the last two months. Have a cup of coffee and sit and read a book.

In the meantime, know that this too will pass and you'll laugh at your hard-to-

manage smart almost-two year old that I've given you. Send a picture to your

parents and your in-laws so they can laugh at your predicament. Be blessed in

knowing that one day, this same daughter will have a child and will call you at 34

and ask you how to get ink out of a blouse - or a child's outfit - and you'll be able to say:

1. Divert your prayer attention from the church meeting to the clothes.
2. Spray hairspray on the stain.
3. Soak it for 30 minutes in a tub of water with laundry soap and a bit of white vinegar.
4. Try giving it a scrub. If the soap and vinegar don't work, allow it to dry
5. Then put a cloth with rubbing alcohol on the stain and let it sit. Rinse the cloth periodically as the stain is lifted.
6. Barring that, try resoaking for another 30 minutes in a tub of water, laundry soap and 1 Tablespoon of ammonia. But be careful, Grasshopper, ammonia can be a little tough on clothing fabric. Rinse the garment and let it dry.
7. Hopefully - with the prayer you were using for the upcoming church meeting diverted to the fabric, the stain will be removed by the above method.

After that, laugh. It is all that's left sometimes and you don't have to wait 30 years for that to happen. Time to e-mail Jeff that I'll be going to the mall tonight. Enjoy the laugh-for-the-day... On Me!

p.s. - having written this, Buttercup is now taking her nap and not getting into anything at all and Smeagol is playing in his room with Legos. Still slightly feverish, but clearly on the mend.

Happy and Back to BWI - "Honor" part 5

It is taking quite a while to get in all the details of my one day with the Honor Flight veterans. If you want to start at the beginning (I've tried to make it a worthwhile read), head over here.

Chuck, whom I was still pushing in the wheelchair, did not need the facilities, so while our Columbus Guardian stayed with our two walkers (Paul and Bill.) I worked to get Chuck's chair up over the curbs to get to the Memorial. Off in the distance, towards the bell tower that is near Iwo Jima (given to the United States in 1960 by the Netherlands), were several Marines in full dress blues, walking in our direction. The cut quite a picture - blue coats, swords strapped on, medals - the works. I wondered if anyone would walk over and ask them to come spend a few minutes with our vets - but didn't want to leave Chuck to do so myself and was struggling still with a rather high curb and a wheelchair. For the record, it is better to back the chair up over the curb as opposed to trying to pop up the front wheels!

Each of the three buses were on a different side of the Memorial for group photos. Our group headed to the far right. We gathered the Red Bus veterans for a group shot, just as we were getting ready to walk around the perimeter of the Memorial, the Marines walked over to join us! They were very respectful, stood behind our vets to get their picture taken, shook each hand and talked and laughed with them for a bit. Our Guardian, Rich, went over to talk to them as well - who knew he was a former Marine?!

While the Marines had their pictures taken with our group, the group shot with the Guardians was forgotten about (and that's okay - those Marines were better dressed, hands down!) I noticed a family of five sitting off to one side, watching our events take place. They asked what we were doing that day. When I told them, the matriarch of the family said that it was her birthday and she had come over to Arlington that day to visit her son's gravesite. He was one of the Infants laid to rest in Arlington nineteen years ago. Her grown daughter, also there with the family that day, had a 9/11 birthday. Her grandson shared his deceased great-uncle's name - he considered it carrying on the legacy of his uncle and proudly told me as much. The family was there at Iwo Jima together remembering, sharing stories and love on a day important to their family.

As the Marines finished shaking hands with the vets, the boy went over to shake hands with them as well. His grandmother explained that her husband had retired from the Marine Corps after 21 years. Right about then, we saw the boy and the Marines laughing - the Marines had asked him if he was going to join the Corps after he got older. He told them no, he was joining the Army! Grandma said she had expected her Marine husband to be angry about that when the boy first announced it, but he had been supportive and said whatever service the boy decided to join was fine with him! How great is it to belong to a family that is so close and so supportive of one another? Between that family and the Marines coming over to offer us a few minutes of their time with us, we more than made up for the protestors we saw at the WWII Memorial when we started the day!

All too soon, we boarded the bus to head back to BWI Airport. The veterans were inquisitive still, asking questions about this building or that one, looking at the various parts of Washington, D.C., with the eyes of an outsider (one told me earlier in the day that he really expected our capital city to be cleaner!) and creating memories to take home with them. One of the last things we saw on our way past the city, before getting on the freeway was one more satisfying moment of the day: While we had been allowed to take our buses straight to the WWII Monument, the protestors had had to park their buses at the edge of the City. The reasons were probably pragmatic - there simply wasn't room for all of those buses inside the city's main area - but it did not dim the glee I must confess I felt when I saw all of the protestors had to walk about 2.5 miles back to their own buses.

With that final image in mind, we gazed out the windows as the last glimpses of the Monuments and the Capital building faded from view. We were tired, but happy on that bus. The atmosphere was a little more subdued, the conversations quieter. Until they announced it was time for MAIL CALL! One last vestige of old, come to life and renewed. A local school from Columbus had sent letters, personally addressed to each veteran on the Honor Flight buses. There was a murmur of excitement (and a few of confusion) as manilla envelopes, filled with letters, were handed to each veteran as they answered to their names. Bill sat in the seat next to me, opening a few letters, dropping a few more on the floor (and we retrieved them!) and ultimately he decided to put them up until he arrived home. They each received goodie bags to take as well.

We parted ways at BWI Airport Saturday, and will not likely ever meet again. Each veteran is (to my knowledge) only allowed one trip on the Honor Flight, in order to allow other veterans to go. Those men and that day will remain in my memory for a very long time - and I have every intention of returning to help with Honor Flight again in the near future. For now, I am working to try to get my lovely White Knight out there in his Dress Blues to help out as well - it is an honor and an opportunity not to be missed!

Leaving Arlington for Iwo Jima - ("Honor" part 4)

This is the fourth in a series about my day helping with WWII veterans participating in the Honor Flight program. To see the first post, head over here. I encourage you to consider helping with this wonderful program while we still have time to honor our WWII veterans!

Upon the completion of the Changing of the Guard, many of the tourists who had watched drifted away, while many of our vets lingered for a minute, watching the new guard as he began the slow march that would take him through the next hour. We still had about fifteen minutes to look around before our buses left for the Iwo Jima Memorial.

We crossed the street to see the mast taken from the U.S.S. Maine. The sinking of the U.S.S. Maine in the Havana, Cuba harbor, began the Spanish-American war back in 1898. In 1905, prior to sinking the ship completely with full military honors, the mast was removed for installation at Arlington National Cemetery as a Memorial to those who died in the 1898 battle. On the way up a small incline to see the Mast, were three stone monuments off to the right. Those three commemorated the Shuttle Challenger, and two others, which I am sorry to say I was unable to see as I escorted another vet to the Mast instead.

We also took time, like many others, to linger before some of the graves in that area, reading the headstones and talking about who was there. We saw graves for an infant daughter, a man who had been not only in WWII, but also in WWI, two mass graves (one was for the men who tried to help rescue American hostages in Iran,) and many in which the spouses had been buried alongside the fallen military members. Our Columbus guardian told us that one of the men on our bus knew his father was buried in Arlington, but had never seen his father's grave. The Columbus guardian had told his local guardian to take a few minutes to help the man find the gravesite - when will he ever get the chance to see it again? I don't know if the guardian helped him or not, but how moving to know your father is there, but never to have seen it.

After about an hour in total, we boarded our buses again, were offered more ice-cold water (those poor vets had water coming out of their ears! But it was all to keep them safe and comfortable), and headed out for our next stop. On the way out, our lead guide asked if we had any former SeaBees on board the bus. He wanted to know whether they had looked like the man pictured in the SeaBee Can Do Memorial found on the roadside on the way into and out of Arlington - he joked that they all said they looked just like the man in the statue when they were younger. The vets appreciated the military camaraderie and humor just as they had in their younger days!

The Iwo Jima memorial was far less crowded when we got there. The road up to the Iwo Jima Memorial winds around and around and around while you get to the place for buses to park! Teasing our Marine vets on board, the head guide for our bus pointed out that the WWII Memorial has it's own permanent bathroom facilities, while the Iwo Jima Memorial has only port-a-potties. The vets all chuckled at that joke too - then many headed over to use them. I suppose, in a way, it is fitting that the Marine Corps would not provide a cushy place to go at their memorial, especially seeing that they pride themselves on being tougher than all the rest! But an 80-year-old tushie might have appreciated something (if you'll excuse me here) ... cushy!

With that poor joke to sustain you, I end this fourth post, in the idea of keeping them still readably short... More in part five (how many posts does it take to get in all the details of a day? Five so far!)

Todd-Zilla

This is a repost of one of my FaceBook Notes. I have two other posts ready to go, but they need the pictures first - have to bake some cookies for those! In the meantime, here is one to lighten your day and remind all you moms-of-toddlers out there that we all have one of "those days" sometimes!

I know I cannot compare having my four children with those of my sister-in-law and brother (with 7,) my mother (6,) or my grandmother (10,) but with my "paltry" four, every day has the promise of adventure. On some of the most adventurous days, a sense of humor is an absolute requirement of parenthood.

On one day in particular, I needed to go grocery shopping. I left my two oldest children at home, where their pop was sleeping for work. They were instructed to get a couple of chores done before I returned. So instead of taking my two biggest shopping helpers, I took Bruiser and Buttercup, the two youngest. On the way to the store, about 25 minutes away (and yes, the prices are often worth the drive), Buttercup fell asleep (YAY!) She continued to sleep on my shoulder for the first fifteen minutes of grocery shopping ease.

Then... she woke up. Now (I thought) I have my hands free to get everything faster and can move more quickly. Nothing but a good thing, until the 5 yo spoke from somewhere around my mid-section, "I'm hungry."

Okay, we'll finish up and get a snack to eat on the way home. No sweat, right?

Special Mom Tip 1: don't leave your oldest helpers at home without bringing snacks along for the younger children. They WILL get hungry and shopping WILL take longer than normal!

In the produce section, the peaches were on sale, next to the not-so-cheap cherries. I drifted toward the peaches and as I finished bagging up a couple of pounds worth, I noticed my darling son's bulging cheeks, and guilty countenance. Commence Operation "Remove Cherry." I took the half-chewed cherry from his mouth (Warning: Only daring mothers should attempt to remove food from the mouth of a hungry 5 year old!), explained that eating produce that needs to be weighed to pay for it is stealing, and guiltily threw away the remaining portion.

Special Mom Tip 2: Keep an eye out for ways the oldest child available can help out. Even a five-year-old can be kept busy looking for the ripest peaches or run to get produce bags. Alternately, be prepared to push one of those monstrously heavy two-seater carts, but be warned: they come with problems of their own toward the end of the store!

A kind store employee happened to be cutting up peaches to give out as samples nearby. She gave one to the child and I accepted one for the toddler to refuse. Instead, Buttercup was pointing to the bag of *whole* peaches in the cart, saying, "Appo' Appo'" while I smeared peach juice on her mouth in an effort to show her that it-really-does-taste-good-and-you-DO-want-to-eat-it.

Thankfully, she got the message. Buttercup ate two pieces while Bruiser had three. So far, so good on the solo grocery front. As the peaches were nibbled away, I ran to the deli to get some special cheeses and hummus and then headed for the tomatoes and avocados. I got the avocados ice cream and turned to get the tomatoes - just in time to see Buttercup munching on one as if it were an "appo!" Take the tomato, put it in the bag with the rest and just keep moving.

Special Mom Tip 3: Most free samples are a good thing, even better when they're healthy, but keep wet-wipes handy!

While I fetched the onions, she was pulling bits and pieces, bags and boxes up out of the basket of the cart. Soon she found the feta from the deli and proceeded to pull the price stickers off (including the bit with the bar code!); over in the egg section, she took hold of the four bananas, bit into the skin of one and started peeling it open; freezer section: open the veggie-chicken patties and tear into them. What is this?! Todd-zilla??

We finally reached the last hurdle: Lobsters. Quick peek at the lobster tank should satisfy her, right? No. Three or four (or five?) minutes later, I pried her away from the tank to continue to the check out line, she screamed. Quick! Grab a cranberry drink on the fly, pop it open and shove it towards her - ahhh, blessed silence. In the check out line, the saga only continued as she tried to help put groceries on the moving belt, stood up in the basket seat to help and had someone come to "help" her sit back down (we're good, thanks,) and the bagger pointed out that the veggie-chicken patties were opened. (Yes, thank you, I'm aware.)

Meanwhile, older moms all through the store are giving me sympathetic nods and cheering remarks ("I've been there - keep it up!") while the men were giving wide berth as they worked to move around me in the confines of the aisles.

Final Special Mom Tip: When you think things are at their worst, remember that you're not the first to struggle through the store with younger children. Yours are not the loudest, the most ill-behaved, etc. and your perception of what is "bad" can always be corrected by the employees, who can tell you stories of other children that will make your hair stand on end. In the case where you think YOUR child is the hair-raiser, remember to laugh, whether or not you feel like it - in the end, it's a great story for later and if no one is dead or injured, life is going to continue on and all will be okay.

The coup de gras came when I took my own groceries to the car (I can arrange the groceries the way I like them!) I left the cart behind the car while I strapped Buttercup-turned-Todd-zilla into the seat. As I rounded the car, I noticed that my groceries had gone missing! The cart had turned about and headed back down the hill towards the store, groceries and all. I can only assume that the peaches didn't want to be next!