Something you can all do for Melissa...

"This kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting"
--Matthew 17:21

Some of you already know (and all of you are about to find out) that QB is pregnant. We are very excited, and she has been very sick--in bed 23 hours a day for the past five weeks--which while it probably means the baby is growing well, it also means that she has been pretty miserable for quite awhile.

You may also know that we are moving to Lubbock in nine days. The QB will be in her eleventh week the day we hit the road, which is a good thing because her morning sickness has not lasted beyond the first trimester in the past, but we are concerned about making the trip as easy (and vomit-free) for her as possible.

We are going to do everything that we can to make the trip easy for her, but there's something all of you can do as well. We're asking anyone and everyone who is interested to send Melissa some positive energy so that the trip will go smoothly for her. You could pray, fast, meditate, repeat affirmations, or merely think about her this week. Anything that you feel would be appropriate would be great.

We believe there is serious power in the collective focus of friends and loved ones and if there has ever been a time in our life that we could use your thoughts and prayers, this next two weeks is it.

Thanks for reading.

God bless.

Next stop, the Lone Star State.

-Joey

The past few weeks...in gerund* phrases

*at the risk of patronizing somebody, a gerund is a verb turned into a noun, usually by adding -ing. Not nearly as exciting as turning a noun into a verb--as in I Googled "gerund" because I couldn't remember the fancy name for a verb that's been nounified.

Teaching English to eleven pre-freshmen. They've got to do well in their classes this summer or all bets are off for fall quarter--like probation, except they're trying to get in, not trying to stay out.

Assistant-coaching Mr. Baseball's t-ball team. I get to stand in the dugout and keep the helmets coming on and off and the bat swinging in safe directions and the players batting in the right order. Sometimes I stand out in the field too. I Almost teared up today on the way home (really, I almost did) when I caught a whiff of the distinct chemical smell of my jersey--shocked at the memories and emotions connected with that smell, how much I loved playing baseball as a kid, and how special (for lack of a less sentimental word) the uniform used to make me feel.
(No, that is not my thoughtful coach pose. I've got a mouthful of sunflower seeds and I'm trying to figure out how to spit out the husks without spitting out the actual seed as well.)

Packing boxes like mad. Currently I am sitting on our living room couch and to my left are fifteen boxes stacked in the corner. Across the room are three more. There are one or two in the dining room. Another two on the book shelves. A half-dozen in the boys room, four or five in the hallway, three in our bedroom, and another couple in the closet. It's to the point that I can't pack anything else without seriously hindering our ability to function (Just today the Monkey asked about his green bike, which I'd packed days ago. I had to open up a box and extract the bike so he could ride it. If he asks about his Little People Noah's ark, I'm going to play dumb).

Caring for the QB. She is sick. Really sick. Living off a diet of bland tea and fudge sickles sick. I'm ready for a one-story apartment.

Finding a place to live in Lubbock. I should say "found" a place, and not a moment too soon. We're moving in two and a half weeks. We just sent a deposit check to The Enclave Apartments in Lubbock, where we'll be living for at least three months while we explore more permanent housing options.

Examining teeth. I recently poked my head in the Monkey's mouth and discovered that his two-year molars are really, really weird looking. Like two-teeth-smashed-together weird. Like the occasional conjoined strawberry weird (click on the image for a blown-up image).


Watching a lot of television. Since the QB has been sick, we've spent a lot more time than usual watching television. We watched an episode of Matlock today (classic stay-home sick entertainment, and still on at 1pm). We watched America's Got Talent (our new favorite. Mostly because of the judges: Piers Morgan is much kinder than Simon. Sharon Ozborne reminds me of my mother--If my mother had spent 30 years managing rock bands. David Hasselhoff's favorite line is "This is what this show is all about," and he gets way too excited about anyone in a bikini on stage, but that may be a holdover from a previous life, so can we really blame him?) Watched a bit of local news (local news, I've decided, is the medium by which people in hell learn about what is going on in Heaven).

One side effect of so much TV is that the boys have been getting to bed a little later than usual. This is the monkey, at 9:15 pm, after Mr. Baseball had fallen asleep and we'd spent twenty minutes trying to get the Monkey to stay in his room. He'd slept until after 4pm that day, so we caved in and popped popcorn.

Reading the scriptures. Thanks to readthescriptures.com, which sends me a daily email reading, I've read from the Book of Mormon nearly every day for the past month. This proves two things: first, the internet can be a really cool way of connecting with information. And second, I live entirely too much at the mercy of my inbox. I think eventually there will be a name for the disorder that compels people to check their email fifty times a day. I think they'll call it "I-want-people-to-like-me-itus." If you're into that kind of thing (reading the scriptures, not obsessing about whether or not people like you), I strongly recommend checking out their customizable reading calendars and team reading options (and no, the website is not paying me for this endorsement, though if they're looking to pay someone, I'm not against selling out like that).

Eating too much. We're busy around here. Worn out. Tired. Stressed. And when I get stressed and tired and spread thin, all I want to do is eat. Chocolate, of course, but we've also had ice cream and cookies and chicken nuggets and Ruffles potato chips, among other things. For a household that usually eats whole wheat everything and gets funny looks at the grocery store because of our cart full of produce (its not uncommon for the checker to have difficulty recognizing some of the "weird" produce we buy--you know, weird, like jicama, winter squash, and bean sprouts), all this junk is a new low.

We're such grocery store snobs. We live in one of the fattest states in the nation, and consider it a point of pride to buy as little pre-packaged food as possible. When we see a cart overflowing with TV dinners, fish sticks, Gogurt and 24 packs of Pepsi we get all self-righteous.

Let's see, pride cometh before the...the...how does that expresssion go? I can't remember... cometh before the...

Sleeping less than I should. Which is why I am going to end this post now. The Athens edition of the Franklin Chronicle is winding down. Soon we'll say good-bye to rolling hills of Athens July and say hello to the wind-swept flatness of Lubbock August.

kites and tooth fairies

We flew kites this week out by the river. My first time actually flying a kite. I remember trying to run down my street with a kite in Oregon, but there was never enough sustained wind. But there's almost always sustained wind along the waterfront here, so its almost always good kite weather. The boys loved it. The monkey kept dropping his string, which sent either me or Mr. Baseball chasing after it.



Mr. Baseball lost his first tooth two weeks ago. He wiggled it with his tongue for days before it finally came out during dinner at Taco Bell. We wrapped it up in a napkin and that night the tooth fairy to put some money under his pillow. He was excited to find two quarters under his pillow when he woke up, but I'm pretty sure he misplaced them by lunch time.

Dear Daddy...

Dear Daddy,

I like you so much that I wish I could give you a big bar of chocolate for Father's day! (Mr. Baseball)

Thank you for Daddy. Daddy plays with me. Wrestles me. He take me to the baseball field. (Monkey)

I like that Dad plays baseball with me! (both!)

Love,

Mr. Baseball and Monkey



A Little Interview About Dad:
(mostly answers from Mr. Baseball with a few from the Monkey thrown in)

How old is Daddy?
100 years old

Where was Daddy Born?
Las Vegas (Mr. Monkey said in the water!)

What's Daddy Favorite Food?
Lemon juice

What does Daddy like to do?
Play baseball

What's Daddy job?
To play with me - Monkey
To work at Ohio University- Mr. Baseball

Does Daddy like sports?
Yes.
I love Baseball with him- MB

What's his favorite?
Basketball -Mr. Baseball
He love football -Monkey

What does Daddy do around the house?
He cleans the house.

What time does Daddy go to bed?
Really late- MB
In the dark time- Mon.

Thanks for being the best Dad ever! Happy Father's Day. And to Papa and Grandpa, we love you both. Lets play soon!

Yes, Master....

Master of the Universe

Master of English

I did it, er, give or take a few papers I've got to grade, that is. I am now a Master of English.
Thank you. Thank you. You're too kind. Really, thank you. Have a S'more.

For a number of reasons (not the least of which was the 50$ gown rental fee I would have had to pay) I chose not to "walk" on Friday afternoon (other reasons include a desire to hold off on all the pomp and circumstance until I'm actually done with my PhD, as well my acute aversion to stuffy convocation centers full of uncomfortable, sweaty people fanning themselves with programs and wishing that the speaker would cut to the chase).

Instead I spent the day packing boxes and playing with the boys. We took a bike ride with Mr. Baseball's new trail-behind (a recent acquisition from a stranger in Columbus. Long story short we walked in to a Dick's Sporting Goods in Columbus on Monday and because the store didn't carry trail-behind bicycles the sales clerk offered us his old one for free. "My boy is fourteen and we're done with it," said the man (his name was Phil). He offered to bring it to the store parking lot after his shift and we accepted. "Just pay it forward," is all he said. Nice guy. Very Nice. Thank you Phil).

Because we are moving in a little over six weeks, and because I'll be teaching every day during the last five of those weeks, this was our week for summer fun. Monday we went to the zoo. Tuesday night we went camping at Lake Hope State Park. Thursday we had a friend over for dinner and a discussion with the missionaries. Friday we went to another BBQ. And Saturday, hmmm... Saturday is a blur. I seem to remember riding our bikes to the store and forgetting our food at the bike rack on our way out and not realizing our error until we were all the way home).

Here are some pictures from the past week or so...


The zoo was a big hit. We got half-price tickets because we used a park-and-ride near the zoo and took the bus in.

We had chicken salad sandwiches and chocolate cake for lunch. Thanks again, Leo, for the chocolate cake.




Poor Monkey spent so much time at the zoo trying to catch up with the longer-legged members of the family. He did great.



The first time we've ridden the bus together since living in Japan. Nuts. What's wrong with this country that public transit isn't more practical?


95-year-old carousel = Big smiles from the boys.




It was cooler at the zoo than we expected, which meant the animals were out in droves-none of this lying around in the shade looking like helpless captives resigned to eating dietary biscuits for the rest of their lives. The monkeys were swinging, the bears were pacing, even the snakes were up to greet us when we stopped by the reptile hall.



I imagine that 50 degrees or 100 degrees, these guys don't look much different. But they were cool. The sign said that no one knew how old they were because they keep outliving all the researchers that have studied them.



Everyone was pooped by the afternoon so we caught the 3:30pm bus back to the park-n-ride. And it's a good thing we did, or we would have missed Phil at the sporting goods store.


We camped in a small cabin at Lake Hope State Park in the Zaleski National forest. We had foil dinners at night and pancakes and sausage in the morning, took the boys swimming in the Lake, played on the playground, and ate too many S'mores, as evidenced by the Monkey's alternating episodes of throwing up and diarehea that lasted most of tuesday night. It got the point that I was sleeping beside him with a plastic cup and a flashlight ready to hop up and keep him from throwing up all over himself again. All in all, it was a fun trip.


One problem with last-minute camping is that you tend to forget things--like a pancake flipper. Oh well. We had had most everything else.








Our Saturday afternoon bike ride brought us to Mr. Baseball's school. we played tag on the playground and ate some chocolate covered raisins before heading home.

So I've got this student who is a photographer

and I agreed to sit in as a formal portrait subject for one of his assignments. Then he let the family come in for a few shots.






Fun. fun. fun. And the boys even managed to hold still and not break anything.

Thoughts on Marriage and Divorce

So, Groooover is getting hitched to Muskrat Love lady Em Gillz and I am sooooooo happy for them and it's got me thinking about, talking about, dreaming about marriage and pairing off and why we do it and what it means in general. I was sitting in the office today talking with Grover and another friend, Jen, about marriage and divorce and choosing and sticking with it and the conversation moved to a discussion of how couples go about choosing to stay married once real life starts and later in an email Jen sent me this:

Joey,
It just hit me...aren't your parents the ones who used the phrase "starter marriage"? I was just thinking about how you told Grover that once you get married that's it, there's just the one. Not that I don't agree with you on that though. But I was also thinking of the idea of "starter marriage" and realized that that's sort of what I had, it's just that the "starter marriage" where you make all the mistakes and the "real marriage" are to the same person for me, but really, we're different people from how we were when we first started going out or when we got married or even last year for that matter.

and I wrote back to said friend with the following:

My parents had "starter marriages" but they weren't intentional, and they definitely don't recommend it. Both relationships were emotionally abusive and they were good to leave (at least I'm glad they did, because if they hadn't, I wouldn't be here). My declaration that "once you get married, that's it" assumed a certain level of emotional readiness, preparation, and maturity on the part of the couple involved. And, it was actually more directed in response to Grover's comment about not wanting to know what else is out there, now that he'd found Emily. There is a myth, particularly in Mormon culture, that we each have a soul mate (i.e. that one person we are "supposed" to marry). Note that I said myth. The idea of sticking out a marriage reflects council I have heard about choosing a spouse--i.e. there are a lot of people in the world that we are compatible with, but that once we choose one and get married, they become "that one," meaning we should work through the challenges of marriage and not look outward when things get tough.

I have heard people say that a starter marriage is a good idea, but I think that's a load of garbage. Either marriage should be for good, or you shouldn't do it (abuse, crazy spouses, neglect, etc. aside). What you described about you and your husband is what I think every married couple that stays married must realize. i.e. we all change. Melissa and I are definitely not the same people we were seven years ago, and we would be miserable if we both lived with that expectation.

I like your idea of the "starter marriage," and "real marriage" being with the same person. I think Mel and I had that too. We "started" with perhaps an ambitious misconception about who we were and what we wanted, and as who we are changes, our "starter" marriage has revised itself into a more nuanced, interesting, fulfilling, if perhaps less idyllic, relationship. Maybe its like a "rough draft" marriage and a "final draft Marriage." Ooh, I like that. We don't throw out the rough draft and start over, we work on it, and polish it and change it, and let it take us where it wants to go.

Question: How does one submit a marriage for publication?

Answer: