Congratulations, Bethany! Way to go, Rachel!

Bethany entered a writing contest recently in the Homeschooling magazine.  The kids were given a starting sentence and had to write a story from it.  I'd forgotten she entered, and then a package arrived in the mail for her.  She opened it and said, "Hey!  Hey!  I won!"  =)  The prize was a book about the ocean.  (Unrelated to the topic of the story.)  Bethany said, "If they knew me, they would have chosen a different book."  She's afraid of things that live in the deep.

So, another writer in the family.  =)  Good job, Bethany!

And in other news, Rachel did a very brave things and went out on her own to get an apartment, with no established friends as room mates, in a new part of town.  She has an apartment, she has a computer, she's signed up for killer classes this semester, and she's showing a younger sister the ropes.  Another brave person in the family.  =)  Excellent job, Rachel!

Rebecca  =)

proud mom of 6 wonderful kids

DC/Hogwarts and life-changing days

I took Elizabeth to the doctor the day before she flew out to BYU.  It was a follow-up appointment with the endocrinologist, and it went about like all our doctor appointments lately.  (See the post titled What DO They Do?)

We left home around 2:00 for a 3:30 appointment in DC, and somewhere around the Pentagon, things became a little weird.  I've driven to this doctor before (it was a follow up, remember?) with No problems.  MapQuest worked!  Wonder of wonder and miracle of miracles!  But this time... 

I was supposed to turn right onto a street that, I swear, did not exist.  After crossing the Potomac and doing a loop-de-loop I came back to try again.  It still wasn't there.  So we tried to just get over into the general area in DC where we wanted to be, and go from there.  This plan ranks right up there with freeing the Iranian hostages back in the 70's.  Suddenly, the roads of Washington DC sensed, through some ancient powers, that they had a lost car on their roads, and they took full advantage of the situation.  

Streets suddenly changed from one name to another, in the blink of an eye, with no forewarning.  We turned off of one street, onto another street, only to find ourselves still on the street we had just turned off of.  We visited Reagan National Airport, the Mall, the Capitol building, Union Station, several scary neighborhoods in which minorities were NOT the minority, and thought we had things almost figured out-- we just needed to turn right and we'd be on the correct street-- when every street for miles decided to become One Way going left.  We rolled down the window several times to ask what happened to Madison Ave.  Or was it Massachusetts?  the first guy told us it was behind us.  We knew that.  We just came from there.  But why did it suddenly disappear?  The next person--a large black woman in a very small knit tank top that she was trying to wear as a dress--just shook her head and chewed her gum loudly with her mouth open.  I took that to mean, "I don't know where the street has gone."  I called the doctor's office to ask for directions and to ask where the street had gone, and the receptionist said, "It should just continue on."  I couldn't agree more.    

And then I realized what was happening.  I have always wanted to visit Hogwarts.  But airfare to London is a bit pricey right now, and I'm not sure about the whole 9 3/4 bit.  The Lord must have heard my unspoken wishes and given me a taste of the Hogwarts experience right here in DC.  It was the only thing I could think of that made any sense.  The moving staircases, the opening picture frames, and the secret passwords have nothing on our experiences driving in DC.

Sigh.  We are so lucky to have such incredible experiences.  Right here!  No airfare needed.  Although, I have to admit, meeting Dumbledore would have been great.  But he's dead.   So, DC will have to do.

On another note, my life has changed drastically in the past 24 hours.  My older two girls have both gone to BYU.  It was a big change a few years ago when Rachel left, and I cried.  But this feels bigger.  I think because they are both gone.  The two babysitters, dinner-cookers, and mature girl friends that I live with.  Both gone.  And I feel all alone.

It didn't help that after dropping them off last night Mike and the other kids went to church and I was home... Alone.  Completely Alone.  I cleaned.  And organized.  But with a lot of tears.  

And it didn't help that the basement was so Empty.  When Rachel left, the furniture did not get rearranged.  Bedrooms stayed the same.  But now... the basement, instead of being a bedroom, is becoming a family room.

And this leads to another way in which my life is changing.  The whole 4 1/2 years we have lived here, we have had--basically--one living space.  The first floor of the house is, essentially, one big room.  So if anyone wanted to practice the violin, or play the piano, or watch a movie, or have a friend over, it all happened in the same room where I was cooking dinner and someone was doing schoolwork, and another person was checking their email, and someone else was madly working on their paper that was due in 15 minutes while someone brushed the dog.  Yes, we have had The Family Circus meets Enslaved by Ducks meets Cheaper by the Dozen all in one room for 4 1/2 years now.  When suddenly...

We have another family room!  I have not seen most of my children all day today.  Even the four that still live here.  They have been watching movies and playing games downstairs.  Josh has had a friend over this evening, and it has not been a major stress factor.  I am writing on my computer, and there are not 5 other conversations going on around me.

It is amazing what one more room can do.  Truly Amazing. 

Trying to visualize my life this fall is almost impossible.  No older girls.  A new family room.  Josh not doing JROTC.  Seminary closer to our house.  And probably (ok, this one I have very mixed emotions about) no HTT this fall.  It's like we moved-- except that the same stains are still on the carpet.  Oh yes, and we still have to deal with the leaky basement.  But other than that, my life has not changed so much since the last time we moved.  Crazy.

Now, one last thing.  Just FYI, this morning I wrote chapter two of a new novel I'm working on.  I am still sad that my girls are not here, but writing 1200 words an hour makes a part of me feel happy.  And this afternoon I mailed the first three chapters of Jacob's Peak to Dutton, along with 5 queries to agents for a different book.  (And 6 boxes of life to Elizabeth at college)  And I took Naomi to the neurologist for her EEG, after both of us being up all night so she could be sleep-deprived.  

Book recommendation: The Dream of the Stone.  I'm not finished with it yet, but if you like Madeline L'Engle, you'll like this.  (I read A Wrinkle in Time at least once a year, usually more, from third grade until after I was married.  Then a few ears later I read it to my kids.)  It's strange, a good story, and fun to read.  

A little bit of good news!

When we were in the car this afternoon, Elizabeth asked if I'd seen the mail yet today.  I said I hadn't, and she said I had a letter.  I asked if it was a real letter or a rejection letter, and she said a rejection letter.  "Some day I'm going to get something that's not a rejection letter," I said.  And off we went to Costco to pick up boxes for the girls to mail their stuff. 

In case you're wondering, rejection letters are easy to spot.  They are written in my own handwriting, and the envelopes have been folded in thirds and then unfolded again.  In this business of writing, not only do you ask for rejection, you pay the postage on it yourself.

So this evening I went to find my letter to log it into my computer where I keep track of where things are.  But...

It wasn't a rejection letter!  It was from Dutton Children's Books, requesting the first three chapters of The Other Side of Jacob's Peak!  I had previously sent a brief query letter describing the book and my writing credentials.  And they would like to see more!  How kind of them!  How happy for me!  If nothing else, my query letter must have been well-written enough that they are willing to look at more.  They must have very good taste.

A small step.  But it is really very nice to open an envelope and find something other than a rejection letter!

Rebecca  =)

whose day, previous to this letter, was really not going so well-- but things are looking up!  

Breaking into Jamestown

First of all, Happy Birthday Naomi!  =)  She's getting so grown up.

This weekend we went to Jamestown for an employee/volunteer picnic.  We had to take two cars, since we only have small cars, and we have a large family.  Mike, Josh and Peter left first and picked up my brother, Dan, on their way.  I left later, after ELizabeth got done with work, planning to meet them there.

We got to Jamestown an hour and a half late (because of waiting for Elizabeth to get off work) and immediately suspected something was wrong.  There were no cars in the parking lot.  Surely they must have some employees showing up for the picnic?  I figured perhaps there was an employee parking lot I didn't know about.  We drove around and found a lot with a few cars, some parking spaces marked "Employees only" and two catering vans.  I figured that their employee picnics must not be very well attended, and we got out to try to find a way in.

All the building doors were locked, but one employee door opened when Elizabeth tried it, so we went in.  The place was deserted as far as I could see, but I figured they were probably down by the ships, on the grass.  We walked past the empty buildings, into the deserted Indian village, through the old settlement, feeling very much like the characters in Into The Woods wandering through the empty, cursed villages after the Pied Piper has taken everyone away.  

By this time we all really needed to go find a bathroom, and just past the silent settlement we saw signs to restrooms.  Hurray!

But they were locked.  WE could see down to the ships, and there was not a soul in sight.  Clearly the picnic was not here.  As we turned away from the locked bathrooms, an alarm began screeching.  I turned around to see Bethany shutting a sliding door and looking surprised.  Oops!

Suddenly a security guard came huffing along the path from the direction of the ships, waving his arms.  We just stood there, and I was reminded of my mother breaking into Monticello.  Apparently breaking into historic sights is becoming something of a family tradition.  We all have legacies we leave for our children.  Some are just more unusual than others.

I didn't give him a chance to ask anything.  "We're looking for the employee picnic," I yelled at him above the wailing sirens, before he could catch his breath.  

He shook his head, wobbling his many chins and looked at us.  "It's at the CSC."  

"The what?"  

He pointed off in some direction.  "Down 199, past the green 7-Eleven."  

Ummm...  "I'm from northern Virginia. I don;t know where that is."

He pulled out his walkie-talkie and told someone everything was alright, and to please turn off the alarm.  And we explained that we were just trying to use the restroom when we accidently pulled open the wrong door.

He kindly unlocked the restroom and let us relieve ourselves before ushering off the property.

We eventually did find the CSC, past the green 7-Eleven, and enjoyed barbecue sandwiches,  a giant slide, a hay ride and the live band.  It was good to see Dan, and the kids had enough fun to probably make the 6 hours of driving worth it.  Mike and Josh turned around the next morning and went back to sail the Godspeed.  They came home slightly burnt and worn out, but happy.

Have a wonderful Sunday.  This would be a great day to look at www.mormon.org.  Or www.lds.org.  For scriptures this morning I read part of the account of the Jaredites who left the Tower of Babel and were led to the Americas.  I read the bit about them taking honey bees and building their barges and wondering if they were really going to have to "Cross these great waters in darkness".  Don't worry.  They didn't have to.  It's a pretty cool story, and so ancient it feels.....ancient.  I love really, really ancient things, stories etc. 

Ok.  Gotta get ready for church.

Rebecca  =)    

Odds Fish, M' Dear

We've been enjoying the Scarlet Pimpernel lately, and Peter can do a wonderful Percy Blakney impersonation.  =)  If you haven't read the book, I can almost guarantee you'll love it.  The movie is wonderful, but the book!  It is apparently The Original spy romance novel, with fast action, a lovely romance, a brave heroine, and lots of laughs.  I cannot recommend it highly enough.

But lately the phrase, "Odds fish, m'dear" has been going through my head in reference, not to Sir Percy Blakney, but to Naomi. 

 

As I think I mentioned in a previous post, she fainted recently, and our doctor thought perhaps it was not a "regular" faint, but an absence (or petit mal) seizure.  I thought he was imagining things.  But I Googled it anyway out of curiosity.

Odds fish, m'dear!  Everything I read was a perfect description of one of Naomi's unusual behaviors she's had since we adopted her!  In stressful situations, she suddenly goes blank, eyes staring, face slack, unresponsive.  We call it the dead fish look.  And it is apparently, most likely a petit mal seizure.  

Since she has had so many other... umm... shall we say... odd behaviors... I did not think anything much of her dead fish look.  It's not as odd as some of the other things she's done.  I just chalked it up to Naomi-- an unusual girl.  

I had no idea it was a form of epilepsy.

Anyway, she goes in next week for an EEG in hopes of confirming the diagnosis.  We'll see.  

And then, yesterday, we got the official diagnosis of PDD-NOS, or atypical autism.  Also for Naomi.  Something I read suggested Mike and I may want counseling to deal with the prospect of raising an autistic child.  My thought?  I am WAY past being stressed about autism.  This is an improvement!  She's getting better!  =)  

(For anyone reading this who does not know our history-- -- it's a long story.  Very long.)

 Have a wonderful day!  or night!  If you happen to be in Nepal, thank you for the nice long email!  =)

Rebecca  =)   

Stories

First, a quote, which I found on Shannon Hale's blog, and which she got from G.K. Chesterton.

"We all like astonishing tales because they touch the nerve of the ancient instinct of astonishment.  This is proved by the fact that when we are very young children we do not need fairy tales: we only need tales.  Mere life is interesting enough.  A child of seven is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door and saw a dragon.  But a child of three is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door.  Boys like romantic tales; but babies like realistic tales- because they find them romantic.  In fact, a baby is about the only person, I should think, to whom a modern realistic novel could be read without boring him.

"This proves that even nursery tales only echo an almost pre-natal leap of interest and amazement.  These tales say that apples were golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green.  They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water."

"The Ethics of Elfland," Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton

I have been writing down for the first time, and polishing, a tale I made up when I was about 16.  I told it as a bed time story for my little sisters, Emily and Elizabeth, when they were 3 and I would lay in between them on their double bed in Morocco and scratch their backs while I made up and told stories.  I made my little brother, Dan, the hero.  The story is called Prince Daniel, and since I know it so well, having lived with it for many years now, it took very little time to write.  I am thinking I may try illustrating it, as well.  Probably an exercise only, since picture books are not selling right now, but I can learn from exercises.  No learning is lost.  And perhaps someday, when the picture book market picks up again, I'll be able to do something with it.

I've also been turning over, researching, pondering and writing out plots for a novel set around 2000 BC.  It's a time period that has always fascinated me.  We'll see if anything comes of it.  I have a character in mind, and I know this is when she lives.  I just am not finding a lot of information on what people wore, ate, and did during the day.  Probably for very good reasons.

And I've been putting the finishing touches on another novel, very different from anything else I've ever written.  Since my "new" refurbished printer showed up in the mail yesterday, I can now print and mail stuff again.  Yay!  =)

Elizabeth is spending several hours a day trying to get a reliable copy of Saving Lizzy Fish burned for the Sundance Film Festival.  

Rebecca  =)

who hopes to go read Rapunzel's Revenge, a graphic novel by Shannon Hale that just came out.  Assuming she can get it away from her kids.     

What we've been up to...

I haven't had time on the computer lately-- other than first thing in the morning, when I write and do not allow myself to access the internet, lest I be sucked into something unforeseen and not find my way back to my manuscripts for several hours-- because life has been too busy.

Our basement flooded.  Again.  And the smell from it has been knocking us out for a few days.  We finally emptied Everything out of the storage room (no small task.  Thank you children!) and found moldy dry wall behind food storage buckets and the shoe shelf.  Ugh.  Joshua cut off the offending dry wall pieces, and we have the dehumidifier, the mega-air purifier, and a big fan running 24/7.  I think we need to scrub everything down with bleach, then seal the walls and windows-- but I'm not sure that will be enough.  This has apparently been happening with every major rain storm since the house was built in the 70's. 

While the kids were emptying the basement, I took Naomi to the doctor.  She haas not ben feeling well lately, and a few days ago she fainted.  I decided we ought to at least attempt to figure out what's going on.  (See my previous post titled What DO they do? for my thoughts on doctors lately.  No offense intended, doctor friends and relatives.)  Our Doctor said he doesn't think it's dehydration, (my thought) and he ordered some blood work (mono, lead, CBC and so on) and recommended visits to a cardiologist (heart problems?) and neurologist (petit mal seisures?)  I'll keep you posted.  I still think its just dehydration, possibly some low blood sugar, since she fainted first thing in the morning right after getting out of bed.  

I've been trying to print some query letters, among other things, but our printer is out for the count.  There must needs be opposition in all things.  (2 Nephi 2:11)  Every time Rachel tries to get her Sunday School lessons together, something happens to make it difficult, if not impossible.  Last weekend she tried to print the lesson, and the printer gave up the ghost.  

Thanks to our friend Jill (hi Jill!), we have info on a cool homeschool writing contest.  I am SO excited!  The prizes are to have your writing reviewed and critiqued by well-known authors, including Lois Lowry.  Very cool.  The kids are all working on things to submit.  And since there is a homeschool parent's category, I am, too!  =)

Mike has been working 15 hour days lately, and he just got home.  I'm so surprised to see him!  I think I'll go ask how his day was.  

Rebecca  =)  

Great Books!

I've read a couple of books lately I just have to rave about.

Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris

Two homeschool brothers encourage other teens to rebel against the low expectations society places on them.  They cite examples from history and modern times of teens who made difficult choices to do hard things, and so made a difference in the world.   They host a web site (TheRebelution.com) dedicated to teens encouraging other teens in doing difficult, good things.  The book inspired me-- as an adult-- to get up off the couch and do hard things.  I'm making it required reading for my kids-- who are not balking, since it's pretty fun to read.  =)

A Curse as Dark as Gold by Elizabeth C. Bunce

This is a retelling of Rumplestiltskin that had me holding my breath and whispering advice to the characters.  A skillfully woven story set in England in the opening days of the industrial revolution.  It's been a long time since a book has gripped me like this one did.   

I Did It! =)

No, I didn't get a call from a publisher. Darn it all. But I DID figure out how to put a slide show on my blog. (You should all be impressed, in case you wonder-- except Dan. But hey! I'm not Dan!) The only problem... I haven't figured out how to get it up toward the top of the blog. And I have to go to the library right now, so I'm done fiddling with this for a while.

So... Please feel free to scroll to the bottom of the blog and see my cute kids. Just FYI, since this was an experiment, I just uploaded some rather random photos. There was no rhyme or reason.

Rebecca =)
who is feeling so technical. No laughing, Dan. =)

What DO they do?

First of all, Happy Birthday to Bethany!  =)  

Now, I have a serious question.  Please tell me if you have an answer.  And please take a look at the new survey.  

What do doctors do?  Do they ever actually diagnose anyone?  With anything?  I mean, if a person shows up in a doctor's office with unusual symptoms, but without already knowing what the diagnosis is, do they ever leave knowing what the problem really is?

We did have one good doctor. Once.  Years ago.  His name was Dr. Cosgrove and he was a pediatrician in Salt Lake City.  No matter why we were in his office-- ear aches, Legos in the nose, or heart failure-- he would pull out his little note pad that was preprinted with a checklist of things for him to examine, note, and tell us.  "Heart and lungs are clear, pulses are strong, ears show no sign of redness, eyes look good..." etc. etc.  It took only a couple of minutes, but occasionally he caught something during this.  "Did you know Joshua's right eardrum is about to break?"  As Joshua is climbing over the doctor to get a look out the window, grinning from one infected ear to another, yelling, "Truck! Truck!" at a passing dump truck.  No.  I didn't know that.  We came in for something else totally unrelated.  

And then there was Dr.Cosgrove's unorthodox idea that mothers were the best judges of how sick their children were.  Shocking!  He once told me, "My diagnosis needs to match the mother's anxiety level.  If I find a mild ear infection, and the mother's concern level is a 9 out of 10, I've missed something.  On the other hand, if I find something very serious, and the mother's concern level is low, something is wrong-- either with my diagnosis or at home."    

How unusual is that?  How ingenious?  How revolutionary it could be if others adopted the same idea!

But, Dr.Cosgrove aside, my question remains.  What do doctors do?  I mean, other than say, "I don't know," and remind you to fork over your co-payment as you leave.

Last year Peter was in the ER.  He had a fever of 104 that wouldn't go down even with Tylenol and ibuprofen together and cold compresses.  He wasn't drinking, and hadn't been for about a day.  I knew he needed IV fluids, so I took him in.  

The doctor ran a couple of tests, didn't find anything, and came to give us our discharge papers-- all without any IV fluids.  I was aghast!  I pointed out that his fever had not gone down, his eyes were dry, he was not totally coherent, and I would like him to get some fluids!  

The doctor brought Peter a cup of water and told me to prop him up so he could drink it, which I did.  The doctor said, "See?  He's taking fluids.  If he has trouble keeping them down, bring him back in."  Peter promptly threw up the water all over the doctor's pants and shoes.  I just about shouted, "Bravo, Peter!"  But I refrained.  The doctor looked down at himself and said, "Here are his discharge papers.  Sign here."

My mother had a very good idea, later, for what I should have done at that point.  I should have said, "If you'll sign a paper stating that you refused IV fluids when I though that was what he needed, we'll leave."  

But I didn't think of that.  So I took Peter home.  We found out in the next couple of days that he had pneumonia in both lungs, influenza type A, and mono.  All three.  At the same time.  And I now am quite certain he had kidney stones that day, too.  But the doctor couldn't be bothered to find any of that out.  

Check you in, check a couple of tests, check you out, check the box.  Check please!  Next patient.

The reason this comes up right now is that I took Elizabeth to the doctor yesterday to get the results of her (second) sleep study.  The doctor is a pulmonologist who specializes in sleep problems.  She had ordered the sleep study because Elizabeth has been so tired for the last couple of years that she's having a hard time functioning.  The sleep study showed that Elizabeth woke up (micro-arousals) 25 times an hour.  That's a lot.  Even for someone who has wires glued on their head and is sleeping in a hospital.  Her sleep stages were not normal, and there were extra waves of a certain type in stage two sleep.  The doctor said E's oxygen and CO2 levels were fine, though.  So she had no idea what was wrong.  Something.  But she doesn't know what.  So good-bye!

Two sleep studies have now confirmed that Elizabeth is Really tired.  Wonderful.  We already knew that.  But no doctors involved feel any responsibility to find out why?  

Just like Rachel's muscle problems (constant jerking), Bethany's toe problem (it turns white with apparently no circulation sometimes), my heart problem (LBBB-- the electrical system apparently quit functioning properly recently),  Peter's fever and dehydration problem, any of my kids fainting (which Naomi did this week-- but I'm not taking her in-- and Josh and Elizabeth have done in the past) and many of my siblings problems (medical =) I mean).  

Does anyone ever go into a doctor and walk away with more info than they brought with them?  Do doctors ever find out what's wrong?  Why on Earth do we pay these people?  Couldn't there be a system as I've heard China used to have?  You pay the doctor regularly when you are well.  If you become sick, you quit paying your doctor until you are well again.   I think it's a brilliant plan.  That would be the best health care reform of all.  Perhaps I'll see if some politician will go for it.

In the mean time, I think I'm just done with doctors for a while.  The seriously toxic prescription the neurologist handed Rachel, with assurances that the only possible side effect would be some weight gain (liar), combined with the complete lack of useful information all around, lead me to believe we should just say home and try to figure things out ourselves.  

Rebecca

who will post about the wonderful book she's reading soon!  =)  

  

Rejection

The mail man rang the bell a few minutes ago because we had so much mail it wouldn't fit in the box.  As soon as I saw the large brown package, I knew.  My manuscript was returned.  

Kate Fletcher (associate editor at Candlewick) included a nice, personal letter in which she made several comments on The Other Side of Jacob's Peak about what she likes and doesn't like, and then concludes with, "Unfortunately, I don't think this is a good fit for Candlewick.... the current economic situation... I'll have to pass on this one.... tastes and opinions vary greatly from editor to editor, so I encourage you to submit this elsewhere."

Sigh.

Ok.  Time to pull out the Children's Writer's and Illustrator's Market and decide on other editors to send it to.  Perhaps also some agents to query.  

My brain knows that almost no one publishes any book with the first editor they send it to.  And personal letters are rare in the publishing world.  I should be happy.  I should think, Wow!  she took time to write to me!  That's awesome!  

But for some reason, at the moment-- a whopping 5 minutes after reading the rejection letter--I'm feeling-- well-- rejected.  Kind of as if the guy I was dating, who I thought might be about to propose, said he'd like to just be friends.  

Sigh.  (Again.)  

I am working on another novel.  It doesn't have a name yet-- not even a working name.  And I still like Jacob's Peak.  I'll send it out again.  Some day I'll publish a book.  Some day.   

Rebecca  =) 

P.S.

There is a line in a song (Life's a Dance) that fits here.  "Been knocked down by the slamming door, picked myself and came back for more."  There is a heavy dose of determination and refusal to take no for an answer, (aka, stubbornness) necessary in this life.  Especially if you ever intent to publish a book.  Just for the record, I did publish a play last year!  =)