Not relaxing just yet!

You would think I've learned by now not to completely relax and believe everything is finally going as planned. Thus my blog's name choice...

Our youngest son, fishing for salmon and school tuition in Alaska, sent a text this weekend. "We (like that pronoun... we?) may have a problem. My wallet went overboard."

I know I didn't have a problem. I was camping at a site next to a peaceful lake, surrounded by mountains and enjoying a campfire with my husband and oldest two children and families.

I stop and ponder for a brief second - was his wallet inside a pocket worn by our son? I wouldn't put it past him to avoid the part of the story where he went the ocean, to keep me from fretting. That wasn't the case. He used his wallet to store a needle necessary to repair fishing nets. The needle came out of the wallet and the wallet didn't get back into the pocket. The net went overboard and the wallet is now property of Davy Jones' locker. Oh goodie.

We will keep an eye on bank accounts since he had a couple of cards inside the wallet, though for now I'm not concerned about that issue. We'll get them cancelled and replaced. We did discuss how he would get on his homeward bound flight and return to school, without proper photo ID.

Easy enough - we should be able to go down to the DMV and get a replacement card sent up to him... (SCREEEEEEEEECH................. the sound of brakes putting a quick halt to that plan.)

We headed to DMV, pulled our number and settled in. 75 minutes later I heard our number called and we carefully rousted our numb backsides from the wooden platform we were using. Armed with his birth certificate and passport we headed to the clerk. As we are explaining she reaches for her phone and calls "downtown". Lots of nodding, 'yes', some eye contact - but no help. We retrieved our documents and were sent "downtown" to the State DMV to speak with Mrs. Boss Lady.

Once again we share our dilemna with the clerk, who apparently is assigned to keep uninformed folks like us from reaching Mrs. Boss Lady. The clerk heads into the back bowels of the DMV to speak with Mrs. Boss Lady in person. I'm sure they were discussing their weekend's events and shared a cup of coffee before returning to tell us - again - no dice.

At this point my husband asks to speak with Mrs. Boss Lady - the waiting game continues. Eventually we are granted a moment of her time. My husband, being the trainer, discusses nonstandard deviation from processes, customer satisfaction (clearly a new concept to DMV), responsibility and leadership. We had documentation but no power of attorney. Our son didn't have access to internet to print their form or a fax machine to send it back to them.

Eventually we received some positive feedback. If we can get our son to call her before 5 pm in the evening last night or by noon today, to verify some information about himself, she will mail him out a new driver's license. We paid the fee and try to be optimistic.

Our next hurdle - Fed Ex vs USPS- the service they wanted to use to send out the driver's license. Our son doesn't have a physical address - unless Fed Ex now uses GPS coordinates. It's a small fishing town. If we want to mail him something it goes to General Delivery. When he is back in port, he walks over to the Post Office and checks for mail. Very small town Mayberry.

Our son got the text we sent with instructions. They are in the middle of a 48 hour run at sea and hopefully he'll get a chance to make the call before noon our time today.

Meanwhile, I have contacted the airlines. I again explained the situation. Wallet in the ocean. No photo ID. It took the agent a couple of times through the story to convince her that yes, that included school ID, military dependent ID and his credit cards but she didn't seemed too concerned about the photo of his mom!

I was assured that if he presented his birth certificate and a truthful statement as to what happened he MIGHT be able to get on the plane if the counter agent and TSA felt it was reasonable. I inquired as to what we might be able to do to guarantee the results. Leaving it up to a TSA agent doesn't give me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

The agent goes on to tell me in addition to his birth certificate, if he had some identification from his employer... not likely as he's on a privately owned fishing boat with a crew of five... or have a coworker with him when he checks in for his flight, it may be beneficial.

Finally - my ah-ha moment. I get it! His mom and dad, with original birth certificate and passport, cannot make arrangements with a local State agency for a replacement driver's license to be sent directly to our son so he can board his flight back to school but a Federal agency will permit our 25 year old nephew (and coworker) to vouch for him! Sheez! Gotta love it!

Another Olympic Event

(I actually wrote this and was published in the local newspaper August 1996. I recently came across it again and thought - given the current summer Olympics in progress - it would be fun to share.)

The Olympics. Two words which render complete strangers into lengthy, arm-waving conversations. Everyone has heard of or spent some time watching at least one Olympic event. We've sat breathlessly awaiting the results of the last competitor. We've, no doubt, wiped a tear away, or swallowed hard.

If the viewer is particularly sensitive or patriotic he or she may be nearing dehydration by now. The Olympic games draw athletes and viewers from countries far and wide. All of the Olympic athletes are thoroughly trained for their events. Today's Olympic frenzy is at an all time high. However, there has been little said of one of the most participated-in events. There is one group of athletes who continue to maintain a rigorous work out schedule. These athletes know not what a day off means.

In previous Olympics we have followed male athletes such as Bruce Jenner, Mark Spitz, Dan Janssen and Dan O'Brien through their quest for the gold medal. We've been wowed with the strengths shown by returning female athletes like Jackie Joyner-Kersey, Gail Deyer and Janet Evans.

In 1996, spectators will be awed by the participants in the newest Olympic event - the Momathon.

Many athletic events date back to the original Olympics, held in Greece. The Momathon was created, in recent years, out of necessity. Participants must last longer and go farther than any marathon runner. This event is not limited to a mere ten events as in the decathlon. It exceeds the skills required too compete in the heptathalon. In this new event, the athlete must see how many tasks can be completed successfully in a twenty-four hour period.

The American female team is made up of moms from all over the United States. These women fear not what the dawn brings. They have trained to perfection and are ready for the challenges set before them. It's not as easy as it sounds.

Spectators may be unfamiliar with the individual rounds that must be completed before determining the champion. The following is a quick rundown of just a few of the obstacles the competitors will face.

The Morning Drill. Athletes are up at sunrise, preparing breakfast for five (nutritional value is extra), bag lunches for four, organizing school backpacks with the appropriate homework assignment, while settling the reoccuring argument over who should be in the bathroom first.

Athletes will continue with arranging the departure of three children on two different buses and one to day care. All of this is accomplished while the athlete maintains some sense of sanity, gets herself dressed for the day (including make up) and arrives to her own appointment on time.

The Laundry Sharpshooter. To win this event, athletes must maintain a keen awareness for the obvious. An Olympic stadium's worth of revolving laundry will be inside-out and armed. Participants must be able to empty a loaded pocket, previously worn by a small boy. One never knows what dangers lurk inside. The next step requires the athlete to have precision aim and a steady trigger finger, while squirting stain remover at even the smallest of targets.

The Phone Conversation. This event can be tricky. The athlete may find herself speaking with a salesperson, whose task is to convince her to change long-distance services. Other possibilities include a mother-in-law, an overseas inquiry, the doctor's office appointment confirmation or the random surveyor. Athletes must be careful not to be caught off guard and sucked into the question forum. Distractions will include the doorbell, an unbalanced washing machine, questions and answers from a teenager (usually one of their own) and the famous tears and blood combination from a young child.

The High Hurdles. Athletes will make a short dash across a toy-strewn room to prevent a pot from boiling over on the stove, thus saving the family meal of macaroni and cheese. Obstacles include the ottoman, stacks of folded laundry, building blocks, the rocking horse, two Tonka trucks and a sleeping dog.

The Five-Mile Shuffle. This event involves children and the family vehicle. Athletes must deliver no fewer than three children to three different locations, with two being required to arrive at the same time. An additional distraction, because these are the summer games, would be a detour from the closest, most obvious route, due to road construction.

The Grocery Store 100-meter Sprint. Late afternoon and the athlete must enter the local food chain store and purchase sufficient quantities of juice and treats for a child's soccer team, and dinner for the visiting office VIP, while still being able to check out through the limited number express aisle.

The Bake-Off. This feat is a common event. The athlete is told by a pajama-clad child at 9 pm that she has been volunteered to bake two dozen cupcakes for tomorrow's class party.

The 800-meter Airport Run. This event is not part of the daily routine, but nonetheless equally important. It consits of a race through any airport terminal, under construction, with a dawdling 5-year old, a crying 3-year old and a year-old sleeping child. Additional equipment necessary to qualify include an overpacked diaper bag, a bag of books and small toys, a stroller and an adult carry-on. The athlete will be arriving at Gate 33 and departing in six minutes from Gate 211 AND the plane is already loading passengers. There will be no outside assistance from skycaps.

As with any Olympic game, athletes may encounter deductions from the final score. Athletes must avoid using familiar threats such as "Wait until your father gets home," "If I catch you doing that again...," "Do you see Golden Arches in front of our house?" "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times...". These can be costly mistakes for the medal-seeking competitor.

When all the events are completed and the scores are taillied, the winners are not looking for a gold medal placed around her neck. These winners are the ones who sigh at the end of the day when they check one last time on those angels that lie peacefully sleeping. These winners are the ones who overlook the sticky, jelly fingerprints on the stair rail or the muddy footprints across the carpet.

Today's momathon winners are the ones that receive the bear hugs and the cookie-crumb kisses at the finish line. When all is said and done, today's mom's are all winners!

I am me!

Who am I? If you checked the Dictionary to look for a definition of 'Deb', I am certain there would not be a picture of my face... I don't know Webster.

I was born a Cheesehead, joined the Navy, was both an active duty member and a Navy wife - in CA, VA, Venezuela & Puerto Rico - only to return to WI and finally land in Idaho!

While in the Navy it seemed whatever happened would happen - just like Murphy's Law. But all these events helped to define the person I am today.

My husband and I have 3 children - and a daughter-in-law we love as one of our own. Together we share our first grandson.

It has always been important to include all of our extended family. Perhaps this goes back to my childhood-surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles & cousins.

I can say what I want about my family and friends but it is better if you hold your tongue. I am protective of those I love.

I am loud and shy. I am giving and selfish. I am caring and a B!+ch. I am both teacher and student in the lessons of life. It isn't as easy as it looks.

I do not need approval to be who I am - I am me!

Family Time

Gas for the weekend trip to Olympia to attend our grandson's wedding - $230

Mexican lunch, Chinese dinner and picnic on the beach - for 12 - $300

Three connecting rooms in the hotel for 3 nights and enough space for everyone to be together - $700

One afternoon on the beach at Kalaloch with most of our family - PRICELESS!

Change

One thing holds true in our family - change - and our steadfast strength and ability to adapt to said change is what enables our family to be who we are. This week was no different.

Tuesday afternoon Krieg is working at his job packing and moving folks. He gets a call from his cousin Ric. "Hey one of our crew isn't coming to work - want to come to Alaska for a couple of months?". Yeah right...

Ric is five years older than Krieg and they grew up in Oregon and Wisconsin respectively . Two different ways of life - with only one real visit and yet when they met last summer for a week at the ocean, my theory on nature vs nurture held true.

Krieg isn't one to make sudden, rash decisions. He has to ponder and deliberate. Calls were exchanged between his family and Alaska in addition to his former lacrosse coach and mentor, as well as the anticipated grueling run to clear the mind but by 10pm  Krieg made the choice to go to Alaska to work on a fishing boat AND the boat Captain had purchased an airline ticket to leave Friday morning.

Wednesday was a long, last day for Krieg packing and moving up a large household. His boss was very understanding about the reasons for Krieg leaving without proper notice and even offered him work if Krieg came back to Moscow before school started.

Dad and Mom headed out armed with a packing list Wednesday afternoon. We managed to find out-of-season rain gear, boots and thermals for a giant. What luck! All with a minimal amount of driving around thanks to our advance recon! Time was of the essence.

Thursday Krieg drove the six hours south to Boise (after an evening of Apples to Apples with sister and friends) arriving late afternoon. I got off work and dashed to the store for dinner supplies and a digital camera (no family member of mine is going to miss a photo op!). We were able to get a dinner together sharing with Matt, Brit, Taten and friends.

Later Krieg decided to check out the camera only to discover the box was EMPTY! I won't go into detail of the expressive discussion I had regarding what I wanted to do to certain store personnel. My 'guys' assured me it would be resolved in the morning and Krieg proceeded to pack two months of gear into his duffle and backpack.

While choosing some of his gear he picked a red & white stocking cap from our winter storage - one knit by Denie years ago. He was happy it would cover his 'noodle'. I voiced my concern about wearing something that would make him stand out and he said since he was the 'Greenhorn' he'd just give them something to work with. Matt and his Dad went on about how it would show up great on the top of the ocean if Krieg fell in - he'd look like a fish bobber popping up and down - and if the red cap went under they'd think he had a nibble... and THEN they wanted to watch a few episodes of Deadliest Catch. Give me a break!

Friday morning Matt was off and made it here for breakfast before he, Krieg and I took off for the airport. Mike headed to meet the opening store staff for the camera exchange. We got Krieg checked in for his flight and Mike met us outside of Security before Krieg passed thru.

Krieg's first impression of Sitka, Alaska included a bald eagle flying overhead. He shared a beautiful view of the harbor.

The Captain and crew of 4 will head out in the morning on their first fishing expedition. Mike and Matt are envious. I am handling the fretting and worry. This is an incredible opportunity for a young, single man to work hard, earn great money for college, experience a new life style and see a part of the world he may otherwise have only visited if he were lucky. I am dreaming about being lost at sea, ship wrecks and George Clooney (ok so it's not all bad!)

It's been a whirlwind week. From moving boxes on Tuesday to fishing nets on Friday! Krieg has great cell service so we'll be able to keep in touch when they are in port. Erin is not out of range and Matt, Brit and Taten are close by.

Life goes on... and I sit here and wait for the next change in plans!

Women's Healthcare

I recently participated in an annual health care event. Upon my arrival I looked to the registrar for reassurance. I nervously laugh when the elderly woman near by informs us 'the girls are ready for their close up'.

I shared my personal information while she used her best soothing voice and flashed a comforting smile to calm my queasy nerves - before shuffling this unsuspecting female off to a maze of hallways and endless rooms - to be groped and compressed... the dreaded mammogram. A necessary evil part of women's health care.

Mid-30 year old women swing their tiny hips into the office for their 'base line' as directed by their trusted physician. The appointment is squeezed between their massage and tennis lessons. Easy enough - they won't be back for another five or six years... after there is a small bon fire on their birthday pastry. They flash a whitened smile, flip their perfectly coiffed hair and move on to their next mani-pedi appointment.

The annual visit begins after 40 years. These women are older, jaded and could care less about traipsing around in a less-than-adequate pink gown. No padding, support or underwire is available to assist vanity at this point. You can no longer tuck the excess mammary glands into your waistband to cover up the sag. No more pretending.

First there is the physical exam. Sitting with your arms up over your head while a nurse seeks out visual imperfections. Any unoccupied staff is called in for a consultation and - excuse me - but are the muffled giggles really necessary. Point and laugh out loud and get it over with! Your arms are quaking and all of the blood has dropped from your hands which now feel like they are being stuck be needles. Feel the burn...

At last - a chance to lay down - shake the feeling back into your arms. You can exhale the breath you've been holding to make your weakened stomach look somewhat normal. This same nurse has successfully managed to substitute the fluid in her hands for ice water and commences 'feeling' for trouble spots. Across, over, up, down, circles, lines, in, out - repeat. You have a bad flashback to that awkward date a bizillion years ago!

You convince the nurse you are diligently doing the same procedure on yourself every month while showering just like the guide recommends. Some are even able to say it with a straight face. If there is a fibroid or cyst the session will start over while the left and right sides are compared - they should be mirrored.

Finally a chance to sit by yourself and contemplate, usually in a highly air conditioned room on a cold vinyl seat. Suddenly a young 20-something mammography tech bounces into the room, pony tail flipping behind her, to tell you 'come on down' in her favorite game show host impression.

Now the fun begins. You are situated to stand in front of a streamline pole with paddles set at multiple angles. You are required to stretch on the tips of your toes because the tech hasn't noticed you aren't quite as tall as the person who was just before you. You reach your arm across the paddle, grasp hold of a handle - but don't clench - and lay your sensitive tissue on the cold plastic surface. The tech reaches with her gloved hand and grabs more tissue from your chest and brings down the top 'shelf' to form a vise like grip over your boob - says 'hold still but let me know when it gets painful' - which occurred about a minute ago. The upper paddle is cranked down the top another 3 inches. Stunned, you look down at the pancake of breast between the clear plastic paddles and find it hard to believe you are attached. However you can feel the metal of the machine digging into your rib cage and underarm. The tech says 'take a deep breath and hold' - disappears behind her radiation-free protective screen and takes the image. Thankfully the pressure of the paddles automatically releases. Free at last! You take a deep breath and sigh in relief. You are a survivor! Not so fast...

You still have to endure a 2nd matching image and another pair of compressions coming at you from the side (rumor has it these second compressions are only necessary to restore the breast to it's original shape).

Yes, it's a necessary part of health care. Ranks right up there with pap smears and blood draws in popularity. I'm sure men have their own horror stories about prostate exams. Hey guys - if you are looking for sympathy it's in the dictionary between...

In all seriousness - we joke about mammograms. I saw something that might have been prevented if treated in a timely fashion. A patient hadn't had any health exams in 14 years. She only came in because her husband was being laid off and they are losing their health insurance. A sure sign of the times but I digress. The RN discovered a lump. Examining the images it was certain to be cancerous. Even the lymphnodes under her arm are in question. The patient will no doubt lose her breast and endure months of chemo and radiation treatments. This very well could have been prevented with an annual mammogram and knowledge of the grants and financial assistance programs available to help with healthcare.

Please know I have great respect for victims of cancer and their families. I wonder if I would be able to find their strength. May God be with every one.

In Memory...

On Saturday, January 26, 2008 my stepson Michael Rex (Shaw) Slemp passed away suddenly in his home with his wife Debbie and daughter Andi at his side. He was 46 years old. Words cannot describe the void felt in our family with his death.

Rex was the oldest of 10 children - and an only child. His mother and father both remarried and had children with other spouses. Rex was adopted by his 3rd stepfather and raised with three other siblings. His dad remarried two more times and had six more children.

As the days passed after his death, his family and friends gathered at his home. Sisters and brothers from one family were introduced to sisters and brothers from another - bringing everyone together for a common loss. It was an incredible example of the sort of life Rex experienced. He watched out for everyone. He respected everyone. It sounds cliche, but Rex was an incredible human being.

I was blessed to be a part of Rex's life. I hope the legacy he has left behind will always be remembered.

Thank you Rex for setting the example in our family. You set the bar high. You have been loved by many and have loved all in return. You have lived by the example you created. You have set no boundaries and treated everyone with equal love and devotion.

Thank you for loving your three youngest siblings as much as everyone born before them--despite the fact they are the same age as your own children. Your constant strength and presence in their lives taught them respect and responsibility as well as love and devotion. You reminded them family is always number one.

Thank you Rex for always being accepting of me in your heart. We certainly are not a "Norman Rockwell Family" though I cannot imagine any other way and wouldn't change a thing. Thank you for being in my heart this week--to help remind me what family is all about. I am still waiting for you to come through the door and put your arms out for that always available bear hug.

Thank you for your support. I only hope I can provide some of the same comfort to Debbie, Adam and Andi. Thank you for always being you. I am so blessed to have not one but three roles in your life--wicked step mom, sister and friend.

We'll see you at the ocean Rex. I know you will be close! I love you. God bless you.