Coming Soon! The Ugly Thrift Store Outfit Contest

Last year's Ugly Christmas Sweater Runway Show was one of my "most read" blogs of all time. 

This year, my crazy family has expanded the ugly and we are now preparing for our runway fashion showing displaying the best in thrift store clothing.  Bring on the polyester and fire up your cameras, blog followers!  There is about to be a showdown in one week!

Momzilla, Private Eye Researcher Extraordinaire!

It's official!  I have passed the grueling months-long boot camp, background checks, full body scans, Mensa exams, and dental record verifications to achieve my "Researcher" card from the National Archives. 

Ok, so really all I had to do was show up, have my camera's serial number recorded, go through a metal detector, take a 10 minute tutorial at a computer, and have my dastardly picture taken by a very bored archivist in the dungeons of the National Archives building in Washington, D.C.  No body cavity search required (unlike the TSA at the airport). 

All this in pursuit of answers regarding the origins of my father-in-law (heretofore called FIL so I don't have to type as much), whose adoptive parents were told he came over on a boat that landed in Ellis Island, New York sometime around early September 1945.  I originally visited Ellis Island but was told that all records past 1924 are kept on microfiche at the National Archives. 

Since we were going to be passing D.C. en route from NC to MD the week before Thanksgiving, I thought it would be the perfect time to put my sleuthing skills to work.  I fancy myself an amateur genealogist, having honed my skills looking for information regarding my Squirrel's birth families.  It's amazing what you can find online!  I have been able to get mug shots, police records, MySpace pictures, Facebook pictures, relative connections, and more all from digging around.  I even found out that there is a website of Social Security Numbers of deceased people!  SCARY!

But I digress...

I had very little to go on.  My FIL does not know where he came from, exactly how old he was (he was assigned a guesstimated birthday of August 1st), what his birth name was, or his adoption agency.  The only thing he has is a birth certificate that would have been reissued upon his adoption.  For those of you unfamiliar, when a child is adopted, their birth certificate is reissued as if the adoptive parents gave birth to that child.  So, in my kid's case, it looks like I gave birth to Elisabeth before I even married Husband (SCANDALOUS!)

Armed with my small pocket of knowledge, I entered the National Archives to search for infant boys landing in Ellis Island between September 1 and September 10, 1945.  I scanned my Researcher card into the registry and was escorted back to the real dregs of the Archives...the microfiche records room.  It's mind-boggling...and a bit disconcerting...to realize how much information our government has on all of us.  And how readily accessible most of it is! 

My guide led me to the microfiche drawer containing the dates I needed and then another guide helped me load up my microfiche machine in a darkened, eerie room.  There were only four other researchers in the room at the time, all hushed and bent over their terminals (probably trying to find Obama's REAL birth certificate!). 

I found amazing things on microfiche...boats of WWII soldiers returning home declaring their "war trophies" to Customs and Immigration (lots of German weaponry taken off dead soldiers, no doubt), a stowaway named Robert Hein from Bremahaven, Germany...19 years old, no family left, and he snuck aboard a cargo ship bound for the US. 

There were only three big passenger boats arriving during the dates in question - one entirely of individuals with last names of Wong, Chang, Hui...so I ruled that one out.  The most likely boat to search was the "Queen Mary" arriving from Southampton, England. 

But alas, no child younger than 18 months was listed in passenger manifests and even then, that was a girl named Tabitha whose surname matched her parents traveling with her. 

I came back home a bit discouraged that I didn't have more exciting news to share with my FIL.  I had tracked down the son of the caretaker of the orphanage we think he lived at for a period of time and I did find that, although the orphanage shut down years ago, a grotto still remains on a steep, wooded trail at the end of a dead end road in P Town.  And I found that the Archdiocese of Chicago may have records dating back to 1945 that may contain information he is looking for. 

My FIL took it all in a stride.  He says that he hasn't known for 60+ years where he came from and if he never finds out, then he will still sleep at night.  I left messages on Ancestry.com forums for anything related to the orphanage and we'll see if anything surfaces. 

Until then, I'll keep my magnifying glass, fingerprinting kit, and houndstooth trench coat out and ready to go at a moments notice!

The Battle of the Bucket Lists

I read through my owner's manual for the Big Blue Bus the other week and figured out how to remove all the seats in the minivan.  I alternated between suppressing my gag reflex at the amount of nasty goo and petrified candy found ground into the carpet and seat clamp thingies...and my marvel at how the van had become a time capsule of items lost from countless hours spent on the road (we can now play "Go Fish" with an almost complete deck of cards). 

One item I unearthed was an old "Bucket List" compiled by Eli.  Here goes:

1. go to disny world
2. fly in a arplane
3. be a soper star (I am guessing that's "super star")
4. go to disneyland (she's going bi-coastal, people!)
5. driveacar
6. be a prfesher (professor?)
7. see slena gomas in parson ("Selena Gomez in person"...kind of disturbing to see Selena Gomez "in parson")
8. be in a tv show
9. be in oterspase (outer space)
10. go to the beach
11. linn hot sire (or maybe "lirn hotsire?)
12. rid a Elfent (elephant)

Oh wait!  There's more: 

13. rid a dofen (dolphin)
14. go to evry stat in the usa

Hmmm...so much for her desire to cure cancer or find a solution to global conflict.  She is going for MUCH more shallow pursuits like meeting Disney stars and getting on TV.  She tells me that she can't decide if she wants to be a TV star, a pop star, or a gospel singer.  The choices, people!  I tell her all three will require that she be a role model and treat her sister well so she might as well start practicing now.  To which, she rolls her eyes and groans (I'm all about letting her keep her delusional bubbles while seizing the opportunity to exploit the moment towards good behavior!)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here's my bucket list:

1.  Teach my daughter how to spell and write legibly. 

I do believe Eli will be crossing all the items off her bucket list before I can do the same!



I'll Love You When I Am Dead

Relayed from my sister Mary in this morning's email:

"Bucky [Rebekah] saved her coins and bought a Barbie doll at Walmart last week. Yesterday, as I was sitting doing my Bible reading, I looked up to see that she had set up a wedding (in the absence of a male Barbie, she was using a wooden Indian chief that I had set out for Thanksgiving).



I asked her, "Who is that?" and she informed me it was Sarah and Brenton "Fartenburger."


I pretended to pay no attention, as she said the vows (she had to say both parts and it went like this...


"I'll love you when I am pregnant, I'll love you when I am pregnant. I'll love you when I am dead, I'll love you when I am dead. I'll love you when I am strong, I'll love you when I am strong."


Then she sat back and declared, "You two make a great couple!"


I agree; even if Brenton forgot to wear his Indian head dress to the wedding!!!"
 

The Curse of Money

Last Friday night, I had an opportunity to share about our calling to missions and the mighty work of the Isaiah 55 Deaf Ministries team in Reynosa, Mexico.  I am learning on this journey that so much of surrendering to the call of missions is realizing my secure feelings surrounding money...and my hesitance to give it up. 

Growing up in a household where money was scarce (read: small time farming dad and mom raising 7, count 'em, 7 daughters and one not-so-motivated-to-farm son) and so from little on, I developed a hatred for debt and a strong desire to make sure I would always be financial comfortable. 

15 years and a masters degree later, I had my wish.  Our two income household was comfortable.  Husband and I had just spent a small fortune building our dream house.  We had the requisite two children, two dogs, and one cat. 

Then why did I feel empty?  As I wondered around my new home, and as God, through the work of His Holy Spirit, began whispering to my soul, I realized I had taken on triple the mortgage and triple the work, all in pursuit of what?  Happiness?  The image of success?  To show off on Facebook and at class reunions that I had "arrived"?

God would bring a scene from a movie back to replay in my mind as if someone had set the DVD player to "repeat" and left the room.  (Yes, God speaks even through movies...imagine that)

Let me set the stage:

Oskar Schindler was a German industrialist who set up munitions and enamalware factories in Poland and the Czech Republic during World War II.  Self-serving and opportunistic by nature, he sought to profit from the war but was however, visibly uncomfortable by the treatment of Jews by Hitler's army.  He soon found that by wining, dining, and flattering high-ranking SS officers, he could purchase Jews to work in his factory, thereby saving them from the death camp.  His choice of whom to purchase was based more on the advice of his accountant Itzhak Stern (also a Jew) than by the Jewish person's actual ability to perform the given tasks.  Nearly shut down after the SS finds that he has employed a one-armed factory worker, claiming him to be "essential", Schindler, nonetheless, manages to keep 1,100 Jews from perishing in the Holocaust. 

Below is the scene at the end of the movie where the Nazis have been overcome and the hunters have now become the hunted.  The Jews from Schindler's factory have gathered to say their goodbyes as Schindler plans to flee (since Oskar was officially a member of the Nazi party although his actions clearly said he did not support their platform).  Oskar is presented with a ring from his accountant Stern that in Hebrew reads "He who saves a life saves the world entire"...and the magnitude of Schindler's past decisions hit him square in the chest.  He realizes that he could have saved so many more...that he had wasted so much money. 

He Who Saves One Life Saves the World Entire



Schindler's List
— MOVIECLIPS.com

(Facebook followers can click on this link...video clips don't stream over)
http://movieclips.com/mX2f-schindlers-list-movie-he-who-saves-one-life-saves-the-world-entire/

And so for the past six months, God has been enabling me to see money differently. He has proven that He can outgive me any day of the week.  He has helped me to realize that, had I invested in Isaiah 55 instead of building a house, I could have paid teacher salaries for YEARS to come...which would have resulted in hundreds of students learning to communicate and ultimately learning that God did not make a mistake when creating them and that they had an important voice in this world and that through His Son Jesus Christ, these students, and their families, can be adopted into the family of God forever.

I can't change the past.  But I'll be hanged before I waste any more time or money in the future. 

I Now Pronounce You Darren & Mark!

Last weekend was the first "next generation" wedding in my family as my nephew Brenton and his fiance Sarah were married. 

We have been eagerly awaiting this wedding as the reception included something sadly missing from all the previous weddings in my family...a DANCE!  Seriously, I could never become a full-fledged Baptist because I really love to dance. 

Not that I have any rhythm or talent. After all, my dance experience ranged from junior high dances (stiff-armed embraces while shifting from foot-to-foot, rotating slowly in a circle) to our lackluster show choir choreography (we couldn't really call ourselves "Gleeks" back then...when our choreography was pretty much box steps and jazz hands)

 But I do have next-to-no inhibitions about lookin' like a fool on the floor.  Whenever the music starts, my feet start moving on their own.  Maybe I was born a Pentecostal...who knows?

At any rate, Husband doesn't have the same level of freedom...which was why I was suitably impressed when he told me that if the DJ played a slow song, he would dance with me.  My sister Renee's husband also told her the same thing so Renee and I decided it was time to dedicate a song to the two shy husbands and get them out on the dance floor. 

Renee excitedly raced up to the DJ and asked him to play a slow song and send the dedication out to "Darren and Mark".  The DJ looked a bit puzzled and asked which song and Renee dismissively said, "I don't care.  Just pick one."

Clearly we didn't think this through...as we soon realized when the DJ put on a slow number, then called out "This song goes out to all your married couples...and Darren & Mark".  YIKES!  Looks like he was dedicating the song to a same sex couple named "Darren and Mark"! 

Ah well, the husbands didn't seem to notice and dutifully ambled out to the floor to twirl their spastic wives around.  Then retreated to their chairs to wonder what overcaffeinated drink we had consumed to be able to shake, rattle, and roll until 11 PM. 

Some pix from the night:

Look for me in the background...hollah!

My nephew Abe (Aber Baber) was the (as he called it) "Ring Barrier":

My niece Megan (Maggie Sue) - who looked FABULOUS - and nephew Bennett (Benny) - who thankfully shaved his Amish-looking beard!

The Squirrels and I awaiting the wedding party to exit the church:

My niece Rebekah (Bucky) who decided that she would bring her own tiara and veil (unbeknownst to her mother...my sister Mary):

We felt it necessarily to provide Beth with some protective head gear, given her history of having objects fall on her head (like a bathroom door, a frying pan, a meteorite/satellite...ok, that one just hit her moon roof while she was driving)...and of course, since the helmet was for Beth, it had to be bejeweled!

The Mother/Son Dance

Katybird having the time of her life...

 We are fond of Rachel's (Woo/Rudy/Duke) hair in the lower right of this photo...

 Hattie (Hats), Grace, Rachel, and Eli captured center stage...

 The Haerrs display some "Hairography" (or should I say "Haerr-ography"!)

 Grace and Abigail (Sass) are "Stayin' Alive"!

 The dance award for the night goes to my fantastic niece Lauren (Lorsban, Laursie Pie) in the purple dress.  I can find her in practically every one of my dance photos...guess the "no inhibition" gene runs in families!



Back in Mint Green Again

Last Friday night was the long-awaited premiere of "Courageous".  I went online and bought tickets ahead of time as I remembered the opening night of "Fireproof" was pretty much sold out. 

After the movie, Husband was taking the babysitter home when he felt his heart go out of rhythm.  He came home and extended his wrist to me to double-check.  Sure enough...his heart was in a-fib again.  I remembered all too well the last time he went into a-fib and figured this time, I wouldn't send him to prompt care by himself! 

Luckily, my sister Erin was out our house, having spent the day being honored as the 2011 Outstanding Alum from E College.  We whispered to her that we were going to tuck the kids in bed and then head over to the Big O hospital ER. 

30 minutes later, we pulled into the zoo, I mean, ER and had the privilege of encountering every belligerent drunk in P town.  Several were milling around the ER while the male nurse at the triage desk looked like he could use a stiff cup of coffee and 18 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  There was a lady in a wheel chair right inside the door who was hyperventilating and moaning while her friend fluttered around her asking questions.  The triage desk paid her nary one iota of attention.  She could be in there every Friday night, for all I know.  After all, the hospital is a not-for-profit so they do not turn anyone away. 

But I digress...

One quick pulse check later, Husband was being wheeled down to Room 211 for what looked to be a very long stay.  The last time he went into a-fib, they tried shocking him twice to no avail.  36 hours later, his heart corrected itself.  This time we were in the first 2 hours of a-fib so we hoped for different results. 

After donning yet another fashion-forward mint green hospital gown, getting laden with lots of sticky pads, lines, IVs, monitor beeps, and much consultation by three doctors, the best course of action was determined to be shocking again.  I was told that I would need to leave the room since it was unpleasant to watch and Husband was administered a heavy dose of what the doctors now call the "Michael Jackson" drug...a conscious sedation with amnesiac after-effects (I gotta get me some of that...for me or the Squirrels...either way, a clear winner!)

By this time, it was 1:30 in the morning and I had been playing several Solitaire games on my company iPad and trying to read to stay awake.  A quick prayer of "Lord, please heal him completely.  I'd sure like to go home tonight." later, the doctor poked his head out of the room and told me Husband had converted to normal rhythm after the first jolt.  HALLELUJAH!  Discharge took another 45 minutes and by 3:00 AM, we were both back home and in bed. 

Which was a good thing...because I was about ready to do a flying leap and land an elbow thump to his rib cage if his heart was going to be stubborn.  Evidently date nights with me are dangerous!