Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Superhero in Training

Miles has had a rough week.

Tuesday he sent us to the ER after slipping in the bathtub and splitting his eyebrow open, and after much deliberation we decided to DermaBond it together (think superglue) instead of stitch it up. I will not tell you how difficult it has been to not scratch off all that flaking glue... I should have gotten a picture of it soon after it happened - It's amazing how much it's healed in just a week.

Thursday he slipped in the locker room after the kids' swimming practice and split the other side of his head on the corner of a bench. After clearing all the blood I determined that, while deep and messy, it was small in length and hiding under all his red curls - - - not hospital worthy.

Saturday he face-planted on the concrete resulting in a scratched up, pouring, double bloody nose, and a huge, fat lip.

Sunday he tumbled off a picnic bench and landed on his head, gaining another battle wound almost parallel to his scar.

And today I found a small pine-cone piece in the center of a red, swollen, tender patch of skin on the heel of his foot.

I called my dad on the way to the hospital last week and he summed it up nicely, "I kind of think this may be the first of many scars in that boy's life."

Yes, Miles is fearless and determined to master any physical task in which he feels he is lacking.

Well, cut it out, boy. I'm tired of seeing your blood.

Monday, March 14, 2011


It's a unique story, I think...

My grandparents met as young missionaries, both serving in Canada, in 1937. After their missions had been completed (my grandpa's a year before my grandma's), they spent only two weeks together before my grandmother wrote in her journal, "Went to assembly with Arvid and then to his place for lunch. Love him, and he loves me. I'll be Mrs. Seth Arvid Dodge someday."

She nicknamed him 'Smiler' in the mission field when her first landlady had said he was the best smiler of all the missionaries. . . and the nickname stuck with him through the end of his life.

His funeral was both beautiful and inspiring for me. Full of hope, rest and peace. Everyone who attended wore a 'smiler' pin, made by my cousin Heather, to honor his life, his perspective on life, and to help us remember that this was a happy time for him.

I have a lot of pictures of people that most of you don't know, and I won't post them here...but I'll break that rule with the picture above. The two older people above are my grandpa's brother and sister - delightful people who are easy to talk to and who remind me a lot of my grandpa. Look at her smile. :)

Five of grandpa's six sons (the other one had been there earlier in the evening). It was so touching for me to see just how much respect flows in this family. Over the course of one weekend, I gained a greater knowledge for where I came from as our focus was turned to my dad's family. My grandpa, with his eternal companion, raised a wonderful family.

No wonder my dad is such a great guy...

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Problems of the Penny Pinching Kind

"Mom - deese flowers smell bad! "
I glanced into the bathroom at Carson who was standing at the sink with his hands frothy in soap bubbles and his nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Yeah," I admitted, "that soap doesn't smell very good, does it."
"I'm glad dere are no flowers awound our house dat smell like dat."


"You know what this soap smells like?" Brian said as he was washing his hands one night. "Bonfire."


"Carson!" McKenzie exclaimed. She and I were sitting at the dining room table, entrenched in the middle of a 750 piece puzzle. Carson had just returned from the bathroom and was picking up a small puzzle piece directly under her nose. "Your hands smell like garbage!"
"Oh dear," I said. "You know, I'm thinking we should just throw that soap away. What do you guys think?"
"YES!" came the stereo reply.
"Once," McKenzie added, "I washed my hands with it and then I smelled them and thought that I had gotten some garbage on them, so I washed them again. But it wasn't garbage! It was the soap!"


Lesson learned: Do not buy soap at the dollar store.