NOSCO Cupcake Queen

I belong to MOSC (Marine Officer Spouses Club) here, as well as NOSCO (Naval Officer Spouses Club of Okinawa). I served as a rep on the NOSCO board for a year and a half, but now I'm just a regular member. There are lots of opportunities to volunteer and donate time and money to charity, as well as social and cultural events, too. I take advantage of what I can. NOSCO is broken down into "coffee groups" that have a common workplace or community, and the chaplain spouses group is one of the biggest, if not the biggest as far as participation. Back when I was on the board, I was asked what we did to have such high numbers. I had to think about it, and admitted that I didn't think it was anything we did in particular, it was just that as "pastors' wives," we are used to being involved with the ministry and fellowship, and that it seemed to just be understood that involvement came with the territory. I wish I could have been of more assistance with fabulous ideas to help them with recruitment, but that was all I could figure.

Anyway, each month, one of the coffee groups takes a turn hosting a social event for the NOSCO membership as a whole. This month it was the chaplain spouses' turn to host, and they selected a cupcake night. I happen to love decorating cupcakes. I love this book, even though I have yet to make enough of them to justify the purchase. Needless to say, I was excited about their choice.

A professional cake decorator came in and taught us all kinds of tips and techniques. I didn't remember to bring my camera to get pics of some of the creations (from beautiful to bizarre) OR me standing with the group holding my winning, sakura cupcakes.


But here they are at home, properly staged on their matching cherry blossom platter. As beautiful as they are, the thought of eating all that frosting and fondant makes me ill. I would scrape it straight in the trash. These were for my kids, though...and they loved it!



I had to take a pic of these cupcake wrappers the instructor brought. I'm going to have to go to Jusco and buy my own, since they are personalized and all.

Cupcake Queen...another title to add to my repertoire.

Patrick Far East Music

So many "Far Easts" were canceled this year due to the nuclear crisis. (Equivalent to State or Regionals back in the USA.) Remember that exchange trip to Yoron Island that Jake participated in last year? That was canceled this year as well. It was all very sad for so many kids...most of them Japanese kids from the mainland.

Patrick was so relieved when they ended up rescheduling Far East Music after it had been canceled. We were thrilled he had the opportunity to go. It was in Korea...which is turning out to be the go-to destination for Far Easts lately. Something to do with the facilities at the Olympic Village being perfect for it.

Patrick didn't take many photos because "it gets tiring remembering to take them" (like this is even ABOUT what he wants or feels).



Which is just one more example of why I am grateful for Facebook's tagging feature. Thank you, Patrick's friends!

I am also grateful for YouTube. I know this is kind of long, but if you like voices that stir the soul, I recommend you watch it. They did a fabulous job. I think I can pick out Patrick's voice, but that's probably just a mom thing. You can see him toward the middle of the pack.



Now this is one that Patrick did manage to capture on his camera. It is hilarious! Not the girls rehearsing...they were adorable and talented. I'm talking about when Patrick pans the room and you see the row of guys with their cameras out and mouths hanging open. Not to mention his commentary. Ahhh, teenagers.



And I guess turnabout is fair play. Listen to those girls scream! Of course Patrick is the most animated one, in front with the Members Only jacket.

Underwater ROV

One of the reasons Jake was looking most forward to getting home, was checking the mail for his underwater ROV robot kit, sent from his awesome homeschool science program, Supercharged Science. The postman did not disappoint.

Most of the stuff SCS sells comes all-inclusive. Except (of course) the one Jake wanted most. So in addition to the $69 plus shipping for the kit, they said we could also expect to spend about $80 in supplies at our local hardware store. {That's if you're not paying in Yen.} Also not factored into the equation would be the frustration of trying to guess what you are really buying since it's all in Kanji...or the confusion that comes along with conveying English measurements (in the English language) to the Okinawan man who is going to be cutting your PVC pipe. All 57 pieces of it.

It made for a fun evening at Make-Man, pushing a cart and a wheelchair...and of course I forgot the camera. Jake couldn't wait to get to work this morning. He set up on the back patio and got to sanding, gluing, drilling and snipping. I left the back door open, just in case he needed emergency assistance. I figured he'd be awhile and I'd get back there to get some pictures when things were really in full swing. I missed my chance. Pretty soon, he came in and announced that it was drying.



That was fast!



Can't wait to see phase two, once the silicone dries. I sure hope the pool lets us try this thing out. Who knows with the government. Otherwise, this is going to be one big fish in one very small bathtub.

Do I Have a "Kick Me" Sign?

I don't even know where to start...and I don't know why I'm surprised. We showed up for Jake's first follow-up appointment this morning. We were directed back to the cast room, which was hopping! I caught a glimpse of Jake's surgeon in the corner, dealing with a broken arm. There were several residents and techs tending to the room full of patients in for cast checks, etc. We were met by a {very} young ortho tech, who listed the procedures for us. She said first, she'd remove the cast, then we'd wheel down to x-ray, and when we were done there, we'd come back to the cast room to see the doctor.

Funny, when recalling the doctor's explanation of how things would go...I didn't remember the cast removal part. But, I dismissed it and let her get to work. She did this every day, right? As she got closer to his incisions, I pointed out to her where they were located so she'd be extra careful. Jake winced a bit, but she was able to get it off without too much trouble.

I wheeled Jake down to radiology, and was relieved that I went in with him, after they attempted to do the weight-bearing and non-weight-bearing x-rays on the opposite feet! It was entered into the computer wrong, and I had to tell them twice he couldn't bear weight on the surgical foot. The whole time, I'm thinking, "Why did they have to remove this at all? Doesn't an x-ray machine work through a cast?" We finished, and I wheeled Jake back down toward the cast room, just as his doctor was walking out of the room. As soon as I saw his expression, I knew something was wrong. He saw us coming toward him, froze and said, "What is he doing without his cast?!" whipped back around and said, "WHO took his cast off?!?" I wanted to throw up. I didn't know exactly what this meant, but I knew it wasn't good. {UGH! Not again!!!}

He gathered the techs around their work station and held a heated "in-service training" on the spot. He said he was to be consulted on any of his patients before cutting off a cast. {It turns out the tech was new, and didn't know it wasn't protocol to remove a post-surgical cast.} My mind was racing, trying to think what this could mean. He explained that for proper healing, the cast needed to be molded to the shape of the bottom of his foot, something that needed to be done under anesthesia, since he'd be applying pressure to the incision...and now he was going to have to do it over again, sans drugs. I started to shake as the scene flashed through my mind. "Is there going to be screaming?" was all I could think to ask. "Hopefully not," he replied.

{Trivia: I cannot handle my children's pain. Can't do it. I used to be a field medicine/aviation medicine hospital corpsman. I gave shots by the hundreds....drew gallons of blood (one vial at a time) and even applied and removed sutures. None of this bothered me. I've listened to the screams of grown men (kidney stones...not battle wounds) and kept it together. The screams of my kids are a different story, entirely.}

I was shaking. I thought my knees were going to give. The doctor looked at me and pulled up a chair to Jake's exam table and told me to have a seat. {I'm sure I was in shock and looked like it.} I was mentally kicking myself for not questioning the ortho tech about removing the cast. I always ask questions! Why not now?! I said, "I thought it was odd that she was removing the cast. I should have said something. I just didn't want to look stupid." The doctor chuckled and said, "Oh there's plenty of stupid to go around here for everybody, trust me..." which was welcome comic relief. After examining the incisions, the doctor started to apply another cast. He took it slowly, was very gentle...and as he rolled, he described the next steps. He wanted Jake in this next cast for 4 weeks, totally non-weight-bearing. At that point, it would be removed and his foot would be cast for a custom orthotic boot (AFO). They would reapply a traditional cast while the AFO was being made. When that was ready, he could start partial weight bearing for the next 4-6 weeks.

Suddenly, it dawned on me...we've played the orthotic waiting game BIG TIME before. MONTHS for orthotics to be made on Okinawa...because it's only ONE GUY that does them for all of the military in the Pacific. I asked the doctor how long it would take for the AFO to be made. He wasn't sure, but said he was told our hospital could order it from a base on mainland Japan. I rolled my eyes and told him that if it was the same place that did his other 2 sets of custom orthotics, we'd be waiting months. I said, "We waited around four months each time. We are two years into this process now." At this point, he stopped wrapping and turned to the tech and said, "Take it off." They removed the cast AGAIN, and molded yet another cast on to his foot so that they could order the orthotic here in Hawaii. {Maybe even have it done so that we can take it when we leave here.} When this thinner cast was set, he cut it off to send to the brace shop, and started on cast number THREE of the day! Lucky for Jake {and me}, he was very gentle and there was no screaming whatsoever.

So, the silver lining in this? If the first cast had not been accidentally removed, chances are the doctor would not have been willing to remove it in order to do the cast molding for the AFO here in Hawaii...meaning, we'd have a long wait behind everyone in the Pacific for one guy to get around to Jake's order. But since it was already off once...why not remove it again? After Jake's final cast (pictured above) was finished...we got to go down in the basement to the brace shop (which was first rate...just what you'd expect from a training hospital with a ginormous budget) where Jake picked out the style and design pattern of his AFO. Bonus! {He chose a space motif, if you were curious.} It would have been whatever scraps they could have pulled together, in the color d'jour, if it was being done back in Japan.

Regarding the fact that they were making his AFO here instead of back in Japan, he said to me, "You just may rewrite the procedure on this one." Heavens, I hope so! If anything, I hope that what we are going through here is somehow making it easy for the next person. And the next. I can dream, right?

Tomorrow is the Day...

Wow, I feel absolutely spent after this day. It's no secret...I'm not a good patient...nor a good patient's mother. In reflecting upon today, I'm reminded that there are two reasons I'm so grateful for my health and my healthy family. The first is obvious...healthy bodies allow us the physical freedom to do practically anything. But there's another reason I feel is just as big...and that's not having to be at the mercy of the medical establishment. Oh my goodness, what an ordeal. Again, I admit, I'm a control freak...so I don't do getting yanked around very well. At all.

We received another phone call this morning, this one telling us that now our two-hour, pre-op/anesthesiology appt. has been postponed until tomorrow at 7 AM (day of surgery) instead of 11:30 AM today, since they rescheduled the appt. with the surgeon until this afternoon. Evidently, that one has to happen before anesthesia. So we'll have zero chance to ask questions, receive instructions, anything, before we're headed into surgery. This was SO frustrating, but I figured we'd at least have a chance to finally talk to the Dr. this afternoon and get all the details of the procedure.

I tried to look at the bright side...at least we had a little more time to get down to the beach for the last thing Jake wanted to do before he's no longer able to get in the water.




We had a very nice time riding the waves in this thing. It was an absolutely beautiful day. It was so nice to take an hour and just relax. I had been really nervous about it...couldn't believe I had let Jake talk me into doing it...but I really wanted him to have some good memories of our trip here. We even had a sea turtle swim right up to us and pop his head out of the water for a breath, before swimming off. Of course, since I forgot the waterproof case to the dive camera, I had no camera (which is also why I only have this pic of Jake on the shore before I had to run and put the camera in the locker).

We finished with enough time to grab something quick for lunch and drive back to the lodge and rush down to the hospital. When we arrived at the counter, the receptionist said, "You'll be seeing Dr. Y"...to which I said, "No, Dr. X"...he said, "I'm confused, it says Dr. Y" To which I reply, "I don't even know him...do you mean to tell me we're not even going to see the Dr. performing the surgery? Why did they tell us to come at this time, then?" (Mind you...we are now on our third appt. time...yesterday AM, today AM and now today PM.) He told us to have a seat and he'd find out what was going on.

I was seething, tears already starting to well up. This whole thing has been such a comedy of errors....from the get go, {two years ago}...and the past couple of days have been the worst...with this whole chain reaction of screwed up appointments. I felt like just a number. {NEXT!} We had so many questions, and had been waiting so long to ask them. Other than the twenty minutes we met with the surgeon initially for him to look at Jake and decide he could help him, we've had nothing. No information. We wanted to know things like, how long is the surgery? Which method would actually be used? How long would he actually stay in the hospital? How long would he have to stay in bed? As the time got shorter, I felt more and more powerless...and disrespected. Surgery is tomorrow and I KNOW NONE OF THIS!!! The receptionist came back out and said that Dr. X was in surgery. I stood up and said, "This is ridiculous. I want to be speaking with the Dr. who is going to be cutting open my son, not a stand-in. I'm done. I'd like to speak with the Patient Contact Representative and the Marine Liaison. This is totally unacceptable."

On the way down the hall to the PCR office, I was shaking. I couldn't believe we'd gone through all of this hassle, and that these people thought it would be acceptable to just start cutting on my kid without letting us have as much specific information as we wanted. This couldn't possibly be the way it was supposed to happen. After sitting down with her and seeing the horror on her face over the way things had been handled, I knew it wasn't just me. A few minutes later, the receptionist appeared at the door and said Dr. X was there and would be seeing us. Apparently, he planned on seeing us all along and was just on his way down from surgery, just running late. Why no one else knew this, or the computer didn't reflect it, I don't know. It's too bad that this was just the cherry on top of everything else and not just isolated, or it wouldn't have gone this far.

So, this is the tense note on which we started out our appointment. Lovely! Dr. X wanted to know why I was talking to the PCR...and I said I felt like a number. I told him I thought he was a wonderful Dr., obviously very compassionate...but that while this may just be routine to him...this was a VERY big deal to us and we had almost NO information (voice cracking). I told him that while the game of appointment musical chairs was certainly frustrating, learning we wouldn't even be speaking with the actual surgeon was the last straw. He said that they {meaning the front desk guy} didn't know what they were talking about, that that was never the case...and I asked how I was supposed to know that? Anyway, as the appointment went on, the tension melted away, I got all the information I wanted and he admitted he would have done the same thing if he was in my situation with one of his kids. He apologized for all the bouncing around, but said he wasn't even aware of our existence until we showed up here last week, and had had to go to great lengths to fit us into the schedule. {I totally believe him and it shouldn't surprise me at all, but it slays me...who's in charge of this stuff, then?!}

OK...so here's a few things that blow my mind. {And I have to preface the first two by saying, I don't think this is how things normally go here. I'm very impressed with the Dr. overall and definitely want him doing Jake's surgery...I think it's just a continuation in the comedy of errors that has been our experience, for whatever reason.}

*As he's describing the procedure and mentions inserting the bone again...I ask, "Where is the bone coming from?" {Meaning...where on Jake's body.} Dr. X says, "Oh it's cadaver bone. We have it up in the lab." When he sees my puzzled face as I try to process this, he says, "Well, the chances of infection are practically nil, the chances of rejection are zero. If you don't want me to use that, then we can take some from his (I don't even remember where he was proposing because I was trying to wrap my brain around this) but that would be an additional surgery." For the record, I don't have a problem with cadaver bone. But am I the only one who thinks this is "lead-out" kind of info...not "after-thought, day before surgery" info? That's what I was trying to process...and it almost made me laugh. I tell him the cadaver bone is fine.

*As we are finishing up the appt, I mention something about the anesthesia appt the next day, and he apologizes again for us having to do it "day of," that it's obviously not ideal...but then casually says, "The only thing you really need to know tonight, is nothing by mouth after midnight...otherwise we can't do the surgery." I'm thinking, "Good to know. When were you going to mention that show-stopper?" I just let it go, though...there had been enough negative mojo in this appt already.

*They normally do this surgery on an outpatient basis. Once the patient is awake and pain is managed, they street you. I can't even fathom this. He said that since Jake was an aerovac patient, he would be admitted at least overnight, because they wouldn't send us back to the hotel with him in that condition. At least there's that!

We were totally spent at this point. Glad to have answers, but still feeling upset things had to get to the place that they did. I told Jake to pick someplace good for dinner. He decided to take up the Dr. on his recommendation:


Hawaii has sushi-go-rounds, too!



I had driven by one of these, but wasn't sure exactly how to get back. I kind of got lost and found it from the other direction, but we made it! We got there about twenty minutes before closing. That was enough time to put away a respectable amount of sushi.



Jake chose this darling, fishy, ice cream sandwich for dessert.



And the surprise inside? Chocolate? Of course not. Bean paste. Mmmm...just like home.

{Enjoy it, buddy...it'll be your last taste of anything for awhile.}

I've Got a Great Feeling About This Doctor

Tripler Army Medical Center, AKA "Crippler" or "The Pink Palace"

Jake had his appointment with the pediatric orthopedic surgeon yesterday and overall, I think it went great. He did a pretty thorough exam and really seemed to know his stuff. Not only are Jake's feet extremely flat, but the tendons are too tight, limiting his range of motion. He can fix both of those things through surgery. He was also very personable. Jake brought up Scouting (talking about not wanting to miss Scout camp) and it turns out, the Dr. is also a Scoutmaster. Also, I think he might be LDS. I thought I picked up on a faint Utah accent...and there's just this radar thing with Mormons. Hard to explain. Not being one to ask strangers about their religious beliefs...especially strangers who are going to be cutting on my children, I will have to see if I can think of some subtle way to find out. Because I'm nosy like that.

Unfortunately, the Dr. will not do both feet at once. This is not what we were lead to believe by the podiatrist. He said it's just not a good idea for a normally ambulatory kid his age. I totally trust his judgement, but I did put a few factoids out there for his consideration, like the fact that Jake is homeschooling now, but wants to go back to school next year, and it would be nice to have his recovery over by then...and that now I have an 18 year old to help with his care, but I won't have that past this summer. He said he'd take my request (to do both at once) under consideration...but honestly, I think he was just being nice. We'll do what we've gotta do...although the thought of having to do this trip twice is SO not appealing.

At first, he said we'd have to go back to Okinawa and wait for a surgery date. I was kind of bummed about having to make that flight THREE times, but not surprised. He sent us back out to the waiting room while he consulted the surgery schedule and said he'd send a nurse out with the paperwork. {Jake was hopeful for a date after Scout camp, so he'd still be able to attend.} After about 15 minutes, a nurse came out with an extension of orders for us to stay until April 15th, and an appt. line-up for next week, including a couple of pre-op appts and a surgery date. She just started explaining things as if I knew we were staying, so I was a bit confused at first...but then so relieved we were staying! Jake was not relieved. So much for Scout camp.

Of course, as we were leaving, I realized now I wouldn't have the opportunity to ask all of my burning questions. It's been frustrating that we've had to go all these months with so few details, and then this appt. happened so fast and since I thought we were coming back for the surgery another time, I didn't think to get more details while I had the surgeon's attention. For example, he mentioned he'd be using bone to build the arch. Bone from where? One of the possibilities the podiatrist mentioned involved taking bone from the heel to insert into the arch. This option had the longest recovery. {Yikes!} Some of the other options involved using plastic or metal hardware. The surgeon didn't say anything about that. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to make a list of questions for our pre-op appt. on Monday. Like how long he's going to be in the hospital, how long is the surgery, how long will he be off his feet, etc.

Whatever will we do with a week in Hawaii while we wait?

Finals week

School just might do me in this week. My final project is due for my computer class tomorrow night, and it's a doozie. Especially the Microsoft Access part. Can I tell you how glad I am that my life's work does not involve accounting? Just sayin'.

Here, Charlotte is lending moral support for my Power Point presentation. She thinks I need to add more custom animations. I find them annoying, but whatever.

Anyway, as soon as I'm done with this, it's on to my next algebra assignment, also due tomorrow at midnight. Three more weeks until that class is over, for better or worse. If I can average a C, I'll be thrilled. Also glad my life's work does not depend on algebra. It's more of a hazing ritual these days, I think. Personally, I'd rather pay someone the big bucks to take care of any math needs that I may have.

{C'ya later...I'm goin' back in.}

The Best Little Theater in Town

Let me start by saying I was NOT at all in favor of Patrick participating in this POPs (Pacific Okinawa Players) musical when he presented the idea back in December. It's not that I have anything against POPs...not at all. Love me some community theater. But just not with everything else he has on his plate and the craziness that is our normal family life. I thought he was nuts. I told him no. He persisted. He went with a friend to the tryouts. They offered him a lead part. I told him he'd have to turn it down. He countered with a proposal that would not involve me having to drive him anywhere, ever. He'd have rides with a friend on the way there, and another family on the way home, and he'd do his homework in seminar period at school and when he wasn't on stage at practice and he'd still get all his chores done and keep up his As and Bs at school and yadda, yadda, yadda. I knew better. I knew it was never as easy as it looks on paper. Two hour practices every week night? Insanity. But against my better judgment, I let him accept the part.



This meant, he'd start his days at 5 AM to get ready for Seminary. Then after school, he'd have (fill in the blank here with Madrigal Dinner/Talent Show/Far East Drama Competition) practice, depending on what month it was...until 5 PM. Then, he'd eat a sandwich or something on his way to his 6-8 PM play practice. Then, he'd get home anywhere from 8:30 to 9, do whatever homework he didn't finish, and go to bed and repeat. M-Th nights, for two months. Oh, and did I mention he also was trying to earn money for his drama trip to NYC over Spring break? Yep. So, he had to squeeze in odd jobs between the cracks, too.



The whole "You'll never have to drive me anywhere ever" clause? You can guess how long that lasted. About a week. While Jeff's mom was completely awesome and did take him along with her son, from their after school practices to POPs practice, the rides home fell through right away. With 3 of us taking night classes, and practices rotating from Kadena to Foster, it made for some frustrating logistics. There were times when I wished for a time machine so I could go back to that night and say, "HECK, NO! Final Answer!" He did manage to keep his grades up, although I don't know how. It took a toll on his health...due to lack of sleep, I'm sure.



But as I sat there watching him tonight, I was glad that I said yes. He is good. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom...he is REALLY good!



And he was so obviously in his element. From the time he was little, he has loved to perform, and I really think it's when he's at his happiest.



This was his first musical, but he looked like a pro. His vocal abilities have really come a long way. I think show choir has been great for him.



The show was way too short. We knew it was a short show, but it really went by too quickly. I was sorry when it was over.



Some of these kids were just adorable! There was one boy that (as Coree puts it) sounded so inconvenienced by having to say his lines. I wasn't sure if it was part of his character, or just his nature, but it was SO cute, whether on purpose or not. That and the part where he was picking out his wedgie while he was delivering his lines, downstage, center. You can't write better stuff than that.



I'll just include a little clip of the curtain call here. I don't have a recording of the performance yet, but someone is getting it to me so that Cliff can see it, too. I'll try to post the link here, but to be honest, I'll probably forget.



"What? Why yes, I'd be happy to give you my autograph..."



And here's Patrick's "adopted" brother, Jeff. In the program bio, Patrick wrote that he was Jeff's white brother...among other "Patrick-isms." To be honest, I'm surprised they printed what he had to say, because it was not the usual, professional, "I'd like the thank God and my parents" fare. It was hilarious, for sure...but just not typical. Patrick is nothing if not original.



"Well I didn't get the lead...but I got the guy!" (Line from the play...not real life.)



And look at this little mini me! Isn't he a doll?



I love drama kids. They are totally awesome.



"Are we that awesome? Yes...yes, I think we are."



I love these kiddos...they are each amazing for different reasons. This experience reminded me that I need to be more of a cheerleader and less of a dream-killer. Not that I didn't have some valid arguments. Even so, if I remember correctly, it was me years ago, who gave the advice to Cliff (who was lamenting how hard it was going to be to go to full-time grad school at night to try to become a chaplain, while being a full-time Marine by day and trying to pay some attention to his family in there somewhere): "Name one worthwhile thing in life that's not hard."

With all of the hassles, this was still one of the most worthwhile things I've watched in a long time. Congratulations, Patrick. I'm excited to see where your talent and perseverance take you.

Friday...The Good...The Bad...The Awesome...and The Suckish

Let's start with the suckish, shall we? Suckish=1:30 AM musters for 6:30 flights. Seriously?



Put your hips into it, honey. Isn't it sweet that Jake wanted to be woken up to take Dad to the drop-off point? I thought it was. We dropped him off and went back to bed. At least we had that luxury...it was going to be a long day+ for Cliff.



Good=Kids headed out for a night of branch youth conference, including sleeping on tatami mats and climbing on poles and ropes.

Bad=Patrick having to miss out because it's the performance weekend for his musical.



Good=Just Troy and I getting an opportunity to spend time together. I offered to take him to dinner, since it was just the two of us. He chose Tony's, since he'd never been. We hadn't actually taken any of the kids there yet. It's just been our date night thing. This is just to show you that although I always get the same thing, there are other things on the menu. Especially if you like Spam.



Which Troy does. I do not. This is a Hawaiian omelet. It had spam and pieces of cream cheese in it. And Kimchee on the side, with the obligatory scoop of macaroni salad and a bonus Spam riceball. Would that be Spamnigiri? Anyway, he said it was great.



Good=Garlic shrimp twice in the same week. I think this makes up for the less than awesome birthday, actually.



Awesome=Patrick on stage. This was his first musical. We are going to see it tomorrow...and I will tell you all about it.

Educational Updates

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this here or not...but Coree decided not to go to eighth grade this year. Instead, she decided to take a semester of ninth grade classes online via BYU independent study. Her goal...to transfer into Kubasaki at the semester. I was all for her doing it. Well, I do have some reservations about her being barely 17 when she graduates. But she's always been on the more mature side...all of her friends are older, and that has usually been the case. And there was no question about her being ready to do high school work. So, we went for it. It was a rough first semester all the way around...for Coree's social life, Dad's wallet AND my sleep. Online classes are very time-consuming. They are also expensive (especially compared to free). For LDS kids, high school=early-morning Seminary. This meant I had to bring her there and back every morning. (Not that I didn't do that the first 2 1/2 years I had kids in Seminary, but it's been nice having such a large carpool since then.)

Well, to make a long story short, she did it! Coree is now a Kubasaki Dragon. She is so thrilled...but at the same time said, "I can't believe I did all that work, NOT so I could be relieved to be done...but JUST so I could do MORE work! (Yeah...welcome to high school, sweetie.) Silver lining for Mom: Since I drove the Seminary carpool the entire first semester, I'm now done for the year. Woohoo! It's funny, she comes home every day with some new tidbit about how high school is so much better. ("Mom...today, one of my teachers GAVE us gum. At Lester, you'd get detention for chewing gum!" or "Mom...today at lunch, I changed tables THREE times....and no one said ANYTHING to me!" Also a detention-earning infraction at Lester. So is hugging of any kind.) It's not that she ever tested any of these rules, or had any trouble with anyone, it's just the overall atmosphere of the school that was suffocating to her. It sounds like she's really breathing easier in a less oppressive environment. I understand middle school is a tough age to manage, so in an effort to keep good order and discipline, they....well, run it like a prison, frankly. It's just that Coree didn't need that. And we had other options.

Well, all that {unimportant} academic stuff aside...let's get to something that really matters. Fashion. Coree could not be expected to carry a middle school backpack to high school, could she? Well, I thought it would be fine, but evidently, it's just not done. Coree scoured the Internet and found something more acceptable at Urban Outfitters. For $80. Fat chance. I agreed to go halvesies. Deal. Here it is:


So what do you think...is it sufficiently high school enough?

Leaving me with the cast-off middle school model. Pssshh...I have no shame, I'll take a backpack that won't cost me additional money any day. It's still in perfect shape. In your face, middle school. Why do I need a backpack, you ask? I've gone back to school myself. Two classes:

Does this look familiar?



How about this? Does this make your chest tighten as much as it does mine? If I survive ten weeks of college algebra, it will be a miracle. At this point, all I care about is passing with a C. Anything else would be overkill. I'm also taking a computer class (information systems management) which is not so bad. I tell you, I'd take ANY class over college algebra, any day. But it's a necessary evil. Mostly just evil.

And Jake? He's still playing the mad professor at home.



He made this pontoon boat through instructions in his Supercharged Science program. He got tired of waiting for me to order a bunch of the parts, so he started stripping old electronics he had in his room. Would you even know where to start? I wouldn't know what part does what or how to remove it. Jake makes it look easy.

Here it is in action. I can't wait to see what else he can do. Although, I'm thinking I'd better order him some new parts or my electronics might start disappearing.

Far East Drama

Patrick has another great opportunity to travel off island for a performance competition. He tried out and was selected to go to the Far East* Drama competition in Seoul, Korea. It's been several months of practice every day after school, in addition to the other community theater production he's practicing for every week night...not to mention the talent show rehearsals he squeezed in there, and the Madrigal dinner before that. Oh, and Scouts (on occasion...lately!), and early morning seminary, and piano, too. And he's keeping up the required A/B grades in order to be allowed (by us) to participate.

I worry about him taking on so much, but Patrick feels like life isn't worth living if he doesn't have an opportunity to do what he loves....and school is not what he loves (it's just a requirement) never mind it's what allows him to participate in most of these cool opportunities. Anyway, being in the spotlight is what he loves, and he's sure had plenty of opportunity for that.

He left Saturday and will be gone for a week. We're so excited for him. Thursday night, they had a preview night for family and friends to come see the pieces they are taking to competition. All of the team is performing in the one act play (which is about 3o minutes in length) and then each of them also had to prepare, practice and perform either a monologue, duet or trio dramatic or comedy piece for the smaller competitions. The team got to vote and choose 2 of the smaller groups to represent them in competition, but the coach won't announce the results until they are on their way, so we won't know if Patrick is just competing in the one act, or if his dramatic duet will be chosen for competition, too...until he gets back, unless he calls us sooner.



Anyway, I am including the video of his dramatic duet here. I'm not going to lie, it is a little on the disturbing side...but not in the way you might think. If you are brave enough, you'll have to watch and see. I've seen Patrick in many comedic or otherwise over-the-top performances...but this is the first truly dramatic work I've ever seen him in...and I think it's really good. I was really impressed with all of the subtleties that went into making his character believable. I really hope he gets the chance to perform it at competition, even though I'm quite certain they'll choose the funnier, more lighthearted pieces. We'll see.

I do have most of the one act on video...except that the memory card was full with almost ten minutes still to go. I won't be including that here, mostly because the five minute video you see above took three hours to upload with our lousy Internet speed here. Can you imagine a 25 minute video? Also, who's going to watch a video that long? Besides maybe my parents? (Not that it wouldn't be worth it just for you guys, mind you...if it weren't for the impossible Internet situation.) Anyway, just trust me it's funny and really good. If I can figure out a way to just include a clip of it, I will. If I was filming, I would have stopped and started the filming several times to break it down into smaller bites (or bytes...hehe) but Jake was filming since I had to duck out the door before it was over to get to my computer class. (By the way...did you know you should capitalize Internet? Yep. Because there is only one. I learned that in my computer class last week. Cool, huh? Now if I can just master Access and Excel, it will be money well spent.)

Break a leg, Patrick...you're awesome! And have fun! But not too much fun. I don't know how much humor those Koreans have. Just sayin', K?

*Far East is a program which allows Department of Defense Education Activity high school students to compete in different events, such as drama, show choir, Model United Nations, photography, football, wrestling, tennis, baseball...you get the idea. Kind of like "State" or "Regional" competitions back in the USA. Our students travel around the Pacific to places like Guam, Singapore, Korea, mainland Japan, or here on Okinawa. The school pays for the travel and competition, we pay for the lodging and food. Definitely one of the perks of living here.


**BTW...if you normally read this in Google reader, I did something funky with Troy's Eagle Court of Honor post. It's a boring story, but basically I published the post before it even happened (for about 5 minutes) while I was making his slide show back on February 2nd. Then I erased the slide show photos I had posted there, but since I kept the original "shell" of the post, it published it back on February 2nd, even though I didn't actually post it until this morning. Get it? So, if you desire to read it (it's a good one) you'll have to either go to the actual blog, or look it up in your feed. And I knew all of this, because I received a friendly blogger tip to "follow" my own blog. This way you know how things look in the reader. So try it with your own blog. You might be glad someday that you did!

The Eagle Has Landed

Oh my, have the years passed quickly from this...

To this. Last night was such a special night, I'm still reeling and can hardly even express my thoughts. I'd imagined what this night would be like, and even sometimes wondered if it would ever come. But through several moves, lost and found records, periods of personal apathy and gung-ho enthusiasm, leaders who were lost and/or apathetic to leaders who were awesome and above-and-beyond...from dysfunctional programs to programs so amazing you wish everyone had the same...Troy arrived at this night, his Eagle Court of Honor.

Knowing they put on a great party, we booked a banquet room at the Butler Officers' Club. It was also an added bonus that it was right down the street in case we forgot anything, not to mention it was WAY easy for people to find (everyone knows where it is) so we didn't have to draw sketchy maps and pray people found the little sign for our church in the dark. Since we were planning in two weeks*, an event that usually takes about 2 months to pull together, it was a HUGE deal not having to worry about any of the food, dishes, set-up, clean-up or other logistical details.



We had so many wonderful friends and family attend and participate in the ceremony. There were various teachers and leaders, and even the Commanding General of the Wing came out, which was very touching. Our friend and Branch President was the Master of Ceremonies and he did such a fabulous job. He asked all the right questions and got every detail squared away before the ceremony. It probably helps that he's in the awards business in his day job as a Marine, too. Did we call that one, or what?



Dan, from the Far East Council, also came and opened up the ceremony for us.

Then, boys from our troop, representing each rank in Scouting, explained what the badge of their respective rank represents, to demonstrate all the ranks Troy had to pass through to get to Eagle Scout. They all looked so sharp!

I love these boys! And not just my own...they are all great young men.

Bro. Kiser came and gave the Eagle Charge. He is over Scouting for our church district, and lends such enthusiasm to the program. When we read the script, we knew we wanted him to do this part. He explained all of the requirements Troy had to meet...the things he now knew how to do...now that he is an Eagle Scout. He did a great job of including all of what was so beautifully written in the script, combined with his usual, Brother Kiser humor and enthusiasm.



Here he is encouraging all the other Scouts to follow the same path. It reminded me of last year, when the Scouts were planning for their first High Adventure trip. It was scheduled for the same three-day weekend as the school's winter formal dance. This was a big deal for the high school Scouts. They only get three dances a year. They were thinking it was an unfair choice, yadda yadda. My boys came home from church and said that Brother Kiser told them, looking back on his life, he doesn't remember the details of one dance he attended in high school...but he remembers every single High Adventure he ever went on, and that the experience would be life changing. I think he pretty much sealed the deal. Every one of those boys chose the High Adventure over the dance. We love Brother Kiser.



This is the part where the video screen came down and we played this video of Troy's journey to Eagle Scout in four minutes. Luckily, I got all my tears out while I was making it, and was just able to enjoy it along with everyone else.

{Trivia: When Troy watched the video as I was burning it to DVD, he chuckled and said, "This video makes me look a whole lot cooler than I am in real life." I thought that was very insightful of him. Not that I don't think he's as cool as the video, but that the video was composed of little snapshots of his life, experiences he has tried, some a few times, some for a year, some for longer...but not that he is a master of everything it featured.}



Then the MoC called these two Eagles (his sons, BTW) to escort Troy up to the front.



And Scoutmaster Cory shared some of Troy's accomplishments in Scouting.



Brother Neal, the Young Men's president, shared some of the future expectations of an Eagle Scout, to remind Troy that it doesn't end here...



And then Scoutmaster Cory led Troy, and all the other Eagle Scouts present in taking (or renewing) the oath of the Eagle Scout.



Look at these awesome Eagles in the Eagles' Nest!



Can't forget the MoC...he's an Eagle, too.



Then I got to pin on Troy's new rank, and he gave me my mother's pin and these beautiful, patriotic roses, and (my favorite part) a hug and a kiss.



Dad gets a father's pin, a handshake and a hug.



Then Troy got to present a pin to the mentor he had chosen. Brother Neal really went above and beyond in helping Troy to achieve this goal. During the times when Troy got lazy or thought it was just too hard, Brother Neal was there to get him back on track. We will be forever grateful for him.



But we couldn't forget Brother Miles back in the IV! After having kind of a rocky start with a dysfunctional Scouting program early on, both of our boys really lost interest in Scouting after leaving Cub Scouts. When we moved out to the IV, we learned that Brother Miles (also an Eagle Scout) had contagious enthusiasm for Scouting (even if understated compared to the uber-enthusiasm of Brother Kiser). He talked about Scouting wherever he went, was always volunteering for different events, even when he wasn't officially called as a leader. This was the kind of guy that, during Scout camp, would drive up the mountain, the 2+ hours to camp when they needed a second leader (it was usually just Cliff who was able to go since he got more vacation than most, being in the military) just to have to turn around and head back to work the next day and repeat. He believed Scouting was the answer to most of the ills of society, and the more I see, the more I believe he is right. Anyway, Troy wanted to also present Brother Miles with a mentor pin, to recognize the impact he had on Troy's desire to give Scouting another chance, and for all the help he gave him in getting to the rank of Life Scout (the rank Troy had when we moved to Okinawa). Brother Miles was officially recognized in the program, and Troy will be sending him his pin. (Thank goodness the BSA allows you to buy extra.)



Then the time was turned over to Troy. I knew he'd prepared a few words, but I thought it would be very few. He thanked the club, the leaders, friends and family, his parents, etc.



He encouraged the other Scouts to push through and become Eagles, telling them it was all worth it. He even shared his strategy of preparing an epic sandwich (step by step) whenever they had a daunting task (like an Eagle packet) ahead of them. It was hilarious and had us all roaring.



As I sat there listening to him, I was just overwhelmed. And it wasn't the usual weepiness like at graduation...it was something different entirely. I was so full of joy and pride, I thought I might burst. I was sitting there listening to how naturally he shared his thoughts, with his trademark quiet confidence, soaking it all in...thinking, "Wow! He really is a man now!" And I didn't feel the slightest bit of angst about it. It was just all good. I was thinking, that even if Troy Stuart wasn't my son, I'd still really like him as a person. I am so grateful to be his mom.



Brother Neal presented him with a memento from the troop...a pair of Shisas with a name plaque on the front. That will be a keepsake, for sure.



Can I just say that this is one of my favorite pictures of all time? What an amazing group of boys and men.

{BTW...Thank you, Brenda, for taking on the photography duties (and Sarah for taking on the filming duties) so that I could just enjoy the evening.}



The awesome Eagles.



Get a load of that flair around my neck. And we're not even finished, yet.



I heart this family.



The catering dept. came up with a perfect, Scout-friendly menu. Mini-sandwiches, spring rolls, chicken skewers, nacho cheese and chips, and everyone's favorite...taco rice cups. They were a huge hit. Whooda thought?



There were also assorted cookies...yum!




And just good ol' water to drink. It's really all about the food.



My friend, Leigha, did this cake. Is this an epic cake, or what?



I knew she did good stuff, and I pretty much gave her carte blanche with this. She did not disappoint. I hope the other boys get their Eagles before she leaves the island just so that she can do their cakes, too.



And you know what they say about Scouts? They are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent...



And hungry!



Troy did the honor of cutting his cake.



And was very kind to share all the fondant goodies with the other Scouts. It was all edible. They were in heaven.



I was bummed I didn't think to ask for photos of everyone before half the people were gone. At least we have the video of the evening, though.



Cute, cute kids from the 'hood.



Fresh Patrick of Bel Air



We love the Bantas!



Luckily, I caught Brother Kiser as he was headed out the door...



Otherwise, we might have missed out on this shot entirely. And that, my friends, would have been a crying shame.



We drove the .02 km back to our bunker, I put my beautiful flowers in the vase on the entry table, and we collapsed into bed. But sleep was elusive, as I knew it would be. Cliff and I are both extreme extroverts, and an event like this is our crack cocaine. I hate that we can never sleep after parties, especially meaningful events like this one. I replayed the night over and over, mostly the good parts, but some of the "shouldahs," too. I finally did fall asleep, but woke up at the usual 5 AM, with a headache and in a panic. I don't know exactly where it came from, maybe because it's the next big milestone we have looming on the horizon, but more likely it was the questioning (and shock) last night, from some of our friends (of another faith) who had no idea we will not see or hear from Troy for two full years, other than calls on Christmas and Mothers Day, once he leaves for his mission. I've always known this, but the reality that he'd be leaving in six months hit me very hard this morning. Six months is nothing...and although I wouldn't have it any other way, man it's going to be hard. He's just such an important part of our family, not to mention a lot of fun to have around. So I laid there, trying not to wake up Cliff with my crying, but I did anyway. Luckily, he's gotten used to the mood swings over the years, and just quietly stroked my hair. So much for no-more-weepiness. I've watched the video slideshow three times today already, if that tells you anything.

I just want to finish this post by saying how grateful I am for the Scouting program. As I sat there looking around the room last night, at all the righteous men who are brought into my boys' lives through this program, I thought, "Who wouldn't want this for their boys? Who wouldn't want this kind of mentorship to help them navigate the trappings of this life?" It's worth all the hassle, all the lost blue cards, the ripped Scout pants, the patches sewn and re-sewn. It's worth the nagging and frustration.

I also have to add how grateful I am for my husband, who was not a Scouter...did not grow up with it in his life or see the importance of it. It was me who felt my life experience would be less if my boys did not become Eagle Scouts, not Cliff. But just the same, he took off work three years running for the week of Scout camp to give them (and their friends) some of their best experiences, it was Cliff who has been on countless hikes and campouts, in every condition, put up with all kinds of indignity...because our boys having these Scouting experiences is important to me. Just one more reason I love him with every fiber of my being. He is the best.


*You aren't allowed to start planning an Eagle CoH until you receive the official paperwork from Scout Headquarters saying your Scout has been officially deemed an Eagle. We didn't get that paperwork until mid January. Due to upcoming travel plans for several family members for school, work and surgery...if we didn't do this right now, it would be May before we'd be able to pull it off. By then, Troy's missionary prep will be in full swing, and we didn't want to just put a check in the box, since this is really a big deal. So we opted to just skip on all the dignitary certificate-and-letter-ordering hoopla (the thing that takes the most time...we will do it after the fact) and pay out the nose for the catering. It was SO worth it, though. They took care of every detail. I think we'll do the same for the other two, even if we have plenty of time, just because it was so awesome.