After the DIY kitchen remodel, I was all over another DIY project.

Not.

Should I mention now that the kitchen is still not done?

Since I can’t even seem to blog once a week, I’m pretty sure that I shouldn’t try to paint the kitchen.

Instead, December has crept up on me along with our baking frenzy weekend. More on that later.

Back to transferring our home movies…

Darling twin Rachel was suppose to transfer all of our Sony 8mm tapes and VHS tapes to DVD for me about four or five years ago. I know that the tapes deteriorate over time and using DVD media would extend the life of our home movies.

I said it would be the best Christmas gift. Ever.

Somehow my friend Nancy in California got ahead of me in the line and she mailed all her videotapes to Rachel and she got hers transferred. I think it was the cash payment vs. gift for mom that got her better service.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then they broke the camcorder we bought to do the transfer.

Sadly, we couldn’t even watch the tapes because we had no working Sony camcorder.

Sony is not my friend.

Sony tapes only work in Sony equipment. It’s an endless, expensive loop of frustration.

After much research with my best friend, Google, I found a Sony DVD recorder that I could transfer all of our 8mm tapes to DVD.

Sweet.

Even sweeter, I found a refurbished model for the bargain price of $39.99 at Micro Center so we drove to Marietta to buy it. Which increased the price a wee bit because of gas prices but that’s just how much we don’t like to pay retail.

But don’t forget I still had to buy a Sony 8mm camcorder since ours didn’t work and their tapes are exclusive to their equipment.

The same weekend I found a used camcorder on ebay right here in Sugar Hill which is very near where we live. The nice seller let us come pick it up at his house after I won the auction at $70.00. I still saved quite a bit since the recorder AND camcorder were less than the retail price of the recorder which is $199.99.

It seems the stars were aligned for me to start this massive project.

Except you can’t duplicate the actual DVDs because they are still encoded with Sony blah-blah-blah.

I wanted to make copies of special tapes for the kids. Because I’m sure they will cherish them. When I’m dead.

This was a time-intensive DIY project. I ran the machine pretty much daily for about two weeks. I made duplicate copies of the tapes through the Sony recorder of some major events but I only have one copy of most.

It was all worth it. Absolutely precious video of their teeny tiny days when they were so stinkin’ cute. I can hardly watch them without welling up with emotion.

Because they make me cry now for entirely different reasons.

Sigh.

Priceless video of my dad, their Grandad Jimbo with them. I did make extra copies of that VHS tape that PhilBillPaul had made for me the year after he died.

So glad I finally took the time for this DIY home movie transfer to DVD. 62 DVDs later, I can mark that off my to-do list.

And now we can watch some of them during Christmas when everyone is home.

Next, I need to figure out how to share a few little clips here on the blog. DIY video editing on my list for 2012.

I know that I should put them in a safety deposit box before the four little piglets touch them, break them or lose them.

Do you have family movies? Are you able to watch them?

I am still challenged to define normal because I don’t think it exists.

I know you have all been covered up with TV, magazine and internet stories about that fateful day in our country’s history. Frankly, I don’t think there are ever too many stories or too much coverage. I think we easily forget on a day-to-day basis as we go about our “normal” lives.

This year, more than others, probably because of the decade mark but also because of the age of my kids, we all talked out loud more.

It made me think of Alan Jackson’s powerful song, “Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)” as discussions were based around remembering where you were the moment you heard the news of the planes hitting the towers.

This weekend we spent a lot of time talking about 9/11. Scary Baby had so many questions after they discussed it in school and she came home and looked back at our 2001 family photo album.

We prayed for those who lost so much. We spent some time reflecting on the last 10 years of our lives.

Ten years ago…

We had a two year-old whose biggest questions were about things like the caterpillar crawling up her arm at my Uncle Jack’s in Indiana.

My daughters and nieces stood still for a quick photo at our annual Kivett family reunion just a week and 2 days before September 11, 2001.

Just 3 days before on September 9, 2001, our oldest pumpkin turned 12. They all attended a private Christian school and wore mom-loved school uniforms.

All the students wrote letters to President Bush in their classes.

His darling twin sisters were ten.

They donated teddy bears with a pink heart attached with their own handwritten note to give to children who had lost someone on that dreadful day.

How could I know that ten years later…

That our now 12-year old precocious 7th grader would be our most challenging 12 year-old we have yet to raise but we are hoping it will come full circle when she takes care of us in the nursing home.

She always has to test out the college sister’s bunk beds when we visit.

How could I know that ten years later…

Our then 12 year-old pumpkin would become a 22 year-old man-child semi-adult…

Who would still let me take a picture of him with his new book bag in his senior year at college at Georgia State?

How could I know that ten years later…

Those darling twins would choose to serve our country.

No one could have told me my teeny tiny baby daughters would become Soldiers.

But this is our new “normal” and in between the dirty pig rooms and me being a “mean mom” and PhilBillPaul being a “nice dad”, I go to bed every single night and count my blessings.

We spent the weekend doing “normal” things and tried to explain to Scary Baby that this is what we all do to prove they didn’t take our “normal” away.

While Elizabeth was at a Military Ball for her unit…

Side note: Fellow married Soldier in her unit, not a date. Only picture I could get from her.

We went up to the North Georgia mountains and met Rachel and friends for lunch.

Jordan and Jenna loved the pancakes.

We admired the girls’ view out their dorm room window.

Someday we know they will appreciate it as much as we do.

The view makes up for (at least a little) the spartan dorm rooms that they live in as cadets.

The cadet military dorms are a far cry from the typical college student who gets to buy new comforters, build lofts, hang wall art and decorate their new home away from home with brightly colored lamps and fun desk accessories.

The choices they have made will serve them well long after they have to sleep on a scratchy green army blanket.

We are proud parents and we need to sing their praises directly to them more than we do.

We spent a beautiful afternoon watching a not so beautiful sport.

Circus baby is the one with the ball as they played Georgia Tech.

We explained to Scary Baby that we would continue to gather and laugh and love and keep on living in our wonderful country. That we would celebrate our freedom and thank those who continue to fight for it every day.

We promised we would never forget.

We haven’t.

I’m never too busy to stop and watch one more poignant short video and hope you aren’t either.

It seems like such a small gesture to sit in a quiet place and reflect.

If you need anymore good reading to help you remember the richness of our lives that we sometimes take for granted, please take the time to read an excerpt from a book worth buying called The Legacy Letters by TuesdaysChildren.org.

I believe that part of remembering and honoring people is to take some time to feel the pain of what others have lost…

Questions for a father lost on 9/11 from Motherlode, a NY Times blog.

I know it makes me more grateful.

Thanks for reading to the end and helping me remember.

Did you and your family do anything special to honor the heroes of 9/11 over the weekend?

Our Dudley the Dachshund Rehab Story

Dudley collapsed in late June after a regular run up the stairs to see the darling twins in their bedroom.

Bad dog owner tip #1 ~ Carry your dachshund up and down stairs forever.

PhilBillPaul said his back legs weren’t working. He could not stand. We are aware that dachshunds can have back problems associated with their very short legs and long backs.

The first thing I said to him quietly and privately, “Please tell me we’re on the same page and we’re not going to do that wiener dog wheelchair thing, right?”

He agreed.

Everyone had to work so Roger Leroy was the only one available to take him to the vet. She is not the most compassionate person in the house. She comes by that naturally. Ahem. Not naming names but one of her parents may be like this too.

She was a little irritated that she had to sit with the dog for hours awaiting an x-ray and evaluation. She called me several times with estimates of $500+ dollars for various tests. At that point, it was time to call Dad and have him talk to the vet and keep costs down and get assurance that the dog was not in any pain. Roger Leroy did have to leave him at the vet because she had to go to work.

By the time I got home, Scary Baby was home from a sleepover at a friend’s house and only knew from Roger Leroy that Dudley was at the vet. She was obviously concerned and she and her friend Cloret asked for details. I tried to downplay the seriousness of the situation and told them that we were waiting for more information from the vet.

Scary Baby said brightly, “If he can’t walk and he’s paralyzed, we can get him a doggy wheelchair. The internet has pictures and they can lead happy, productive lives.”

Momma said “We’re not getting a doggy wheelchair.”

Scary Baby said “WHY? He can be happy and it’s like a little wagon or cart…”

Momma said “We don’t have information from the vet so we don’t need to have this discussion right now. Please give Sabu some extra attention since he’s probably very confused about why Dudley isn’t down in the basement with him today.”

She and her friend went down to the lounge to watch a movie.

I consulted with my friend Google and then talked to the vet. The news was not good.

Next I called PhilBillPaul who was driving home from Macon.

And promptly burst into tears.

I cried about the dog, the choices, the outcome, the doggy wheelchair, the money, the well dog who would be traumatized, the children who would be traumatized and why this is the exact reason I did not want dogs,

PhilBillPaul who is a giant dog lover said, “I can’t do this now. I could pull over on the side of the road and bawl but I’m just trying to get home. We’ll figure it out when I get there.”

A little while later, Scary Baby says through my closed bedroom door, “We’re going to take Sabu on a walk and might go down to the neighbor’s house with him.”

Thought that was very sweet and good for the well dog. I carried on until PhilBillPaul and Wizzy got home and they went to vet to pick up Dudley.

They arrived home with Dudley and I had already told all the big kids to be home and help create a quiet night with no extra people at our house.

Side note: Due to time constraints and the ridiculous length of this post, I’m leaving out the screaming fight we had when Roger Leroy announced a friend was on her way over and we told her we weren’t having company with the sick dog and then the friend arrived anyway and they both went upstairs to get Roger Leroy’s stuff because we told her to leave, Sabu went crazy, ran upstairs, peed in Scary Baby’s room and at least 2 of us started crying again.

We were busy setting up his crate with Wizzy’s memory foam pillow that fit perfectly.

We were all very emotional and unsure of what would happen next. The vet recommended a neurological consult which PhilBillPaul scheduled for the next morning.

In walked Scary Baby with two neighborhood friends and they were holding a jar of money. They proudly told us that they had collected money for Dudley and had almost $200 in the jar.

After the friends left, Roger Leroy and I interrogated calmly asked Scary Baby what exactly they said to neighbors about the dog?!

Bad dog owner tip #2 ~ Don’t let your 12 year old hear you crying on the phone about the sick dog.

With some prodding, she confessed “We just said we needed money for a doggy wheelchair for Dudley. And he might need surgery. And I printed this picture to show them.”

Roger Leroy was mortified.

I said “Welcome to my world.”

Did you know there are neurologists for dogs? We didn’t. Treatment options were steroids and 6-8 weeks of immobilization or surgery.

After the neuro consult, we opted for steroid treatment and about 3 other drugs I can’t even remember.

The next day our Wiener Dog Rehab begin in full force.

I went to the store and bought dog pee pads and poster board.

We found great information on IVDD Disc Disease and excellent tips on wiener dog crate rest from other wiener dog lovers on the internet:

• I cut the long end of an old fleece blanket to make a “butt sling” to help him go to the bathroom outside.
• We froze chicken broth for ice cube treats because it is full of cartilage-building proteins and amino acids.
• PhilBillPaul cut the top of the crate so we could lift him in and out more easily.
• We bought a kiddie pool for water therapy.

We were hopeful but tried to be realistic. We saw slow and steady progress and had two follow-up visits with the vet.

We sent Scary Baby back through the neighborhood with envelopes with a special note attached.

Wasn’t it smart of the girls to keep a list of donors and amounts donated?

After 5 weeks of total crate rest, the vet said we could start introducing him back into his area with Sabu. His prognosis is excellent.

What life lessons have we learned from this wiener dog rehab experience? For me, it just reinforced what I already knew that dogs are expensive and the emotional investment is even more expensive.

Oh, we also all learned one more thing…

Nobody at our house volunteered to learn how to express the dog’s bladder or bowel once I explained to Scary Baby about what would be involved with a doggy wheelchair.

Dudley is our vet’s favorite miracle story.

We are so grateful that he is better.

And that we didn’t have to buy a doggy wheelchair.

Even if he hops a bit like a rabbit.

Guess how much dog neurosurgery costs?

Leave a comment and person who comes closest wins two wiener dogs!

Just kidding. Guess anyway. I think it’s illegal to give away wiener dogs as a prize for a blog contest.

Whatever.

Happy 20th Birthday to the darling twins!

Holy cow! This means I do not have teenagers living in my house for the first time in 8 years. Until next April when Scary Baby turns 13 and the cycle begins again. Yikes.

I will not lie and say I will miss the teen years. I will tell the truth and confess that I absolutely miss this stage…

Zero to two is my favorite time. They were such adorable tiny twins.

Then they get big and talk back and think we’re stupid.

Side note: Twenty feels like the new twelve this summer as we go ’round and ’round about all our ridiculous rules. But that’s a post for another day.

Roger Leroy requested a chocolate chip fruit pizza for her birthday “cake.”

Wizzy requested a chocolate cake.

“Hot” tip regarding frosting = it melts if cake is still warm.

They’ve had to share one cake for so many years that I decided I could accommodate both requests. The bonus was that we had dessert three nights in a row.

They are such opposites in so many ways. Dinner requests were Mexican and Italian. We took them for Mexican on Friday night and Wizzy had an Italian dinner with her dad the next night.

Neither requested the singing, the sopapillas or the…

…sombreros.

Forced cell phone picture. Can you tell?

We thought Wizzy’s hat made her look like a Canadian Mountie. We blamed her big head. She insisted it was because of her bun.

Wizzy also tried to escape from our booth when she realized PhilBillPaul had discreetly arranged for the wait staff to come out and sing for the darling twins. We pinned her in and about seven staff members delivered a rousing performance.

They really didn’t seem to appreciate when their dad and I came out of the restaurant wearing the bonus sombreros they got to keep.

And PhilBillPaul wore one all the way home.

Scary Baby turned twelve on April 22nd.

The day before Easter is not her favorite time to have a birthday.

Because of course, I took that opportunity to combine the birthday with the holiday. I’m sure that’s what Christmas Eve babies dislike too. Sorry but I like to be efficient.

Scary Baby should be thankful that Easter does move around each year.

She has reminded me several times I have not blogged about her birthday.

Consider this the new birthday tradition:

Must have blog post written highlighting your birthday.

She set the tone early for her birthday requests.

First, she really, really, really wanted to own a viola for 6th grade orchestra. She hated her rental instrument. She needed her own instrument. She would be performing in the 6th grade Honors Orchestra at the end of April and please, please, please could we buy her a viola.

Dad and Granny got together. Scary Baby got an early birthday present.

An extravagant but useful birthday present arrived.

The concert was lovely and I’m sure it’s because of this amazing viola.

Next, Scary Baby got very frustrated when I said I was not going to buy the giant cupcakes at Costco that were too expensive for her to take to school for her birthday treat for 28 of her closest friends. My Easter dinner budget was already high.

Instead I said I would be glad to make homemade cupcakes with ingredients we already had at home. You would have thought I suggested taking in circus peanuts or some other gross candy as her treat.

And speaking of birthday treats…when the heck does that stop? I think 6th grade, right?

Yes, this had to be the last year.

See, I’m a little unclear because the darling twins have a summer birthday – excellent planning to avoid multiple birthday celebrations. The Grunter wasn’t too caught up in birthday treats after elementary school.

This last child just wears me out with all her expectations. Thank goodness she sketched out her cupcakes so I had instructions.

We started with a cake mix and The Cake Doctor cookbook. She probably remembers what page. I don’t.

All food photo credits: Scary Baby.

Except the photos when she’s in the picture.

I did have to amend her plans. We had raspberries not strawberries.

I’d include the recipe but we made this up. Cream cheese, powdered sugar and raspberry jam.

Approximately this much.

I won her over with this change when I said she could squirt the filling inside with a new pastry bag and tip. And she could ice them all herself.

The kid is relentless when she makes a plan.

The clearance Easter sprinkles in the glass jar for $2.00 from TJMaxx secured my cupcake victory.

She declared the homemade cupcakes a huge success and her brother drove her to school so she didn’t have to drag them on the bus.

She caved on Easter Sunday and our Easter dessert served double duty as The Perfect Lemon Cake also became her birthday cake.

Only because I let her pipe the filling for deviled eggs.

And because she got Easter treats…

And birthday presents on the same day.

Everett gave her a swimsuit and we were glad he didn’t prank her and give him one of his old swimsuits.

The darling twins gave her the movie she wouldn’t see in the theater but really wanted to personally own.

Happy Birthday baby girl! You promised you would stay little and it’s just not happening. We all love you to the moon!

Thanks for your patience while having to wait to read your birthday blog post two months late. I’ll try to be on time next year.

He’s pretty calm and easygoing most of the time. He definitely takes after his father in this department.

The distractions and daily stresses took over towards the end of April and haven’t seem to let up. That led me to barely getting a weekly Typo Tuesday posted. Thanks for hanging with me in my quiet phase. The family would not agree with the previous sentence.

Whatever.

I’m going to play catch up in the coming weeks here on the blog. Mostly because the blog is now our family photo album so I have to continue to tell our stories even if they are not all chronologically perfect. Go me – look at that flexibility. I will also need to high five myself for showing restraint in not writing some of the stories. Saving for the book. Or when I finally start drinking. Hard liquor.

If I were prioritizing the stresses, the following would be…

Stress #1

The Grunter has had a swollen lymph node that he started complaining about a few months ago. I said “Make a doctor’s appointment.”

This is part of the growing up checklist, right?

1. Make your own doctor’s appointment.
2. Go to your own doctor’s appointment.
3. Call Text your mother.

He finally did all three.

#3 really triggered some anxiety…

“He said he didn’t know if it was a tumor or what. They are doing a blood test and then deciding whether I need to go to a specialist. Also I may have had mono last year.”

The swollen lymph nodes were actually from last February when he was really sick with a cold and swollen tonsils. New blood work now confirms he had mono.

This is a kid who has never had a stitch. A cold and/or sore throat is about as sick as he gets.

Next appointment is with a specialist and I attended with him.

I could have gone my whole life without hearing a doctor say…

“We need to rule out lymphoma.”

Three times.

Everett ~ before drugs

This is my way too small tribute to every mother out there who has had to fight the “Big C” battle alongside their children.

Because I know you prayed it would be you and not them.

I can only imagine that there is just one thing worse than battling cancer yourself and that would be having to watch your child battle it.

The good news for us is that our pumpkin is fine. His post-op appointment was last Thursday and the pathology report was all good.

Everett ~ after drugs

“It Will All Work Out Momma”

These words from the baby I was pretty sure would kill me during childbirth. He’s right.

It will all work out. It almost always does. He’s helped me to see that.

And it’s always a milestone when you can embrace a life lesson from one of your own.

She was a looker.

As they say back in Indiana.

I wrote about her in 2008…

She’s the only Grandma I’ve ever known as my mom’s mother passed away when I was just six months old…

…Imogene is funny and spunky and I have always loved spending time with her. To get to spend one-on-one time with her is a sheer delight for me.

She got such a kick out of riding in my bright blue VW bug.

In May of 2007, on my way home from the Black Hole, she was exactly what I needed and it was my honor to take her bra shopping (oh, the funny story of that shopping trip) and then to Gray Brothers for her favorite meal.

The next year, I got to go back and spend more time with her and we had dinner once again at Gray Brothers.

So glad I documented our visit here.

…words cannot describe what it meant to me to get to spend the afternoon with her and take her out to dinner.

I convinced her I could pick her up the next day so she could enjoy another meal with 6 of the 7 Kivett siblings who were all gathering at another local cafeteria.

She simply beamed through the whole meal. She loved them all so much.

In January of 2009 on my long road trip to the frozen Midwest tundra, I was so glad I got to visit again. It was such a gift that there was no ice in Indiana because I was able to take her on a car ride back past the farm and we got to visit with my Uncle Jack and Aunt Peggy at their house.

Treasured memories…I could go on and on.

I saw her for what would be the last time with darling twin Wizzy in July last year.

We brought her butterscotch pie from Gray Brothers and when I showed her the picture of her in front of that blue bug that I carry in my wallet, her face lit up.

Then she winked and giggled, “We had some fun, didn’t we?”

She passed away Saturday morning.

She is being buried this morning after 95 vibrant years on earth.

May she rest in peace knowing how much she was loved.

Sending blessings to all our veterans and their families,

PhilBillPaul’s younger brother passed away very early this morning after being at home in hospice for just over two weeks. He fought a very courageous battle with liver cancer.

Phil is on his way to Texas tomorrow.

Please keep him and the whole family in your prayers.

If you feel compelled to do so, I know he and Granny will read every comment left here…

Whether you have teens who will be driving soon…

Or you’ve lived through teaching your teen(s) to drive…

Did you catch your breath like I did?

Side note: I hope it wins awards and they play it in some primetime slots! When I went to look for the commercial online to show PhilBillPaul, I discovered “The Dad” is the real-life father of both the 6 year-old and the 16 year-old girls in the car. Very sweet.