Mike's Noise

In Memory of Billie Laprarie

(Mom and her hibiscus, ca.1957)

I had been working on a couple of blog posts this weekend, one about the new Obama administration and the other about the Mumbai terror attacks.  Those posts were cast by the wayside, however, when I received the news this morning that my mother had passed away.  (Added - I was up at 5:30 AM this morning, unable to sleep, so I finished the Mumbai piece.  You'll find it just below this one. - Mike)

Her health had been in decline for some time, due mainly to the debilitating effects of a stroke that she suffered in 2000.  Then there was a cancer diagnosis late last year.  We knew that Mom was on borrowed time.

She had been living near us, in an Oklahoma City nursing home, for some time.  We visited her often, and she particularly cherished her grandchildren -- especially when they were babies.  Mom always had a soft spot for babies.  She would cuddle our babies, stroking their hair, kissing them gently, and whispering tenderly to them.  We would have to practically pry them out of her hands when our visits came to an end.

My father's death ten years ago from pancreas cancer was a particularly terrible one.  He suffered greatly, and the bedside vigil during his last hours was one of the most difficult things that I have ever endured.   Our prayer for Mom was that she would pass peacefully, with little or no suffering.  Our prayer was answered.  After her health had deteriorated to the point where she could no longer eat, the hospice staff kept her warm and comfortable in her bed, medicating her only for pain.  She passed away quietly in her sleep.

As I sat with Mom this morning, holding her frail lifeless hand and letting go of my sorrow, the words of an old Nazarene hymn came to mind.  In fact, it was one of Mom's favorites:

'Til the storm passes over,
'Til the thunder sounds no more;
'Til the clouds roll forever from the sky,
Hold me fast, let me stand,
In the hollow of Thy hand;
Keep me safe 'til the storm passes by.

I can only offer this simple prayer on behalf of Mom:  The storm has passed.  Standing in the presence of His glory, you're safe.  Praise God, you are finally Home.

Please pray for me, and my family, as we celebrate the end of Mom's earthly journey, and the beginning of her eternal one.

Cats 2, Field Mice 0

"Training is useful, but there is no substitute for experience."

"I agree.  We use live targets as well."

The victor -- our Maine Coon tomcat Max, with nightvision still operational, enjoying a midmorning snack.  After his latest kill, he wandered over to my wife and wanted petting.  She refused, citing "mouse breath" and other concerns.

Bye bye, Miss Ella

Dec. 1993 - Sept. 2007

So long.  We'll miss you.

Caterpillar/Butterfly Update

Well, our experience raising Monarch butterfly caterpillars came to an end about two weeks ago.  The kids had a lot of fun watching the caterpillars grow, molt into their chrysalises, and emerge as adult butterflies.

Of the first group of caterpillars we found on the milkweed plant, one died as a caterpillar, one escaped (we took the terrarium outside one afternoon with the screen removed), one died in the process of molting, and two died after they had molted.  Both chrysalises had a fly egg in them, and they were eaten inside-out by a tiny fly larva.  The larvae then emerged from the dead chrysalises.  It was rather disgusting, but the kids found it very interesting.  I'm not sure how many people they told about "maggots eating their butterflies."  We had only one caterpillar that molted successfully and emerged two weeks later as an adult monarch.

In the meantime, we found two more large caterpillars and one small caterpillar on the milkweed plant.  We brought them inside and placed them in the glass terrarium along with fresh milkweed stalks every day.  All three of these caterpillars grew to maturity and molted into chrysalises.

I was fortunate enough to be around with my camera when the last caterpillar molted.  Before molting, the caterpillar finds a suitable place to attach himself, and spins a dense ball of sticky silk from which he hangs upside down, in sort of a "J" shape. 

The caterpillar noticeably turns green, and soon his skin splits and he wriggles out of it.  When the skin has fallen off, he literally turns himself inside-out and the green outside skin hardens into a chrysalis.  The butterfly grows inside the chrysalis for 10 - 14 days.  Ours averaged about 11 days.

Family

Time to share a little bit about my three adorable kids:

Memo to parents: never let your kid's best friend sit anywhere near the birthday candles!
Download birthday0906.mov(right-click and choose "Save As" to download to your hard drive)

 

Memo #2 to parents: musical instruments, underwear, and Swiffers don't mix!
Download air_swiffer_1106.mov

 

Memo #3 to parents: Don't eat the yellow snow (the white stuff is OK though)
Download snowcone1206.mov

I don't write enough about my family, probably because I value their privacy.  But I hope that everyone enjoys these delightful video clips.

Birthday Girl

Our youngest child officially left babyhood behind when she turned 1 this weekend.

She is also our last, and while we eagerly await her blossoming into a smart and funny young lady, I wouldn't be honest if I didn't confess that there is a bit of sadness in the realization that there are no more baby days ahead for us.

Until the grandchildren come, that is.

Teach her gently

My four-year-old daughter started pre-school today.  We are sending her to an all-day pre-school at a local parochial school.  After hugs, a few tears, and some apprehensive looks, we left her with her teacher (a wonderful young lady) and her squirmy classmates.

I though of this poem that I ran across many years ago:

Teach Him Gently ... if you can ...

My son starts school tomorrow ... It's all
going to be strange and new to him for a while, and
I wish you would sort of treat him gently ...

You see, up to now, he's been our little boy.

He's been boss of the back yard ... His mother has
always been around to repair his wounds, and I've
always been handy to soothe his feelings.

But now, things are going to be different ...

In Memorium: Mabel Andrews

Every once in a while you get a chance to meet a truly remarkable person, someone whose life is extraordinary in a way that few other people will ever realize.  I came to know one through marriage - my wife's great grandmother, Mabel Andrews.  She passed away this past weekend at the age of 101.

Kid blogging

FRUSTRATION is what happens when you go upstairs, walk into your bedroom, and find this:

Then look in the trash can and find this:

And then discover that your four year old daughter's hair looks like this:

Yes, I know full well that they are irrepressible and strong-willed at this age, but AAAAAGH!

She claimed that having a pony tail tie on the top of her head made her hair "poofy," so she found a pair of scissors and chopped her top pony tail off.  Then she took a few whacks at the side just to be thorough.

Fortunately before the hair chopping incident we celebrated her fourth birthday with a Princess Party. 

Everyone looked adorable and the girls (6 of them, one was sulking and didn't want to be in the picture) had a lot of fun.  There were a few tears, but nothing that Mom couldn't quickly fix.  And now my daughter has practically every Barbie FairyTopia accessory available.  That should make her happy ... until the next Barbie movie comes out.

The kids do love their new baby sister.  They like to hold her and touch her gently.  So far no one has whacked her. 

Every now and then you get one of those "thousand words" photos of the kids.  I got one a few weeks ago.  I really don't need to add any commentary because this shot pretty much sums up personality and interaction for everyone.