Friday, December 12, 2014

When Aliens Came (to eat my brain)

The aliens came to take my brain, last night as I lay sleeping.
I tried to ignore them, but at last I implored them to turn off the noise that was bleeping.
But then they said through a hole in their head, that it wasn’t my brain that they wanted.
They wanted a part, that wasn’t my heart and continued to pester me, undaunted.

So I turned on my light and saw in fright, that they were all gelatin blob-ish.
Green and all bluish, and shaped like a shoe-ish, almost a little bit glob-ish.
They were making plans to invade our lands, or at least all the oceans on Earth.
They wanted my gut, only a single piece they’d cut, to see what to them it was worth.

Then I saw,  that they felt the major flaw, on their part was being all photosynthetic.
They wanted to eat, they thought it a treat, but didn’t have the needed genetics.
So they’d be studying us, didn’t think it a fuss, to take a piece I would offer.
But they already had, up in their lab, a mouth, some teeth, and the epiglotter.

They ask if I’d mind, donating to their kind, a part of my lower GI tract.
So I had a choice, to give a voice to the part  they had come to extract.
What would you choose, were you in my shoes, to give to some strange blue-green aliens?
My stomach?, my liver?, my intestines? Oh dither, can’t they ask another mammalian?

I felt kind of attached, to my gut, almost latched to all the parts that I had inside.
How could I persuade them to utilize their brain stem? another answer to provide.
Can’t they instead, do what our ancestors did and become a microbe symbiont?
Search the oceans for examples, the choices are ample, and end this bizarre experiment.

But they wouldn’t be persuaded, so I felt a little jaded, an answer would have to be found.
The epithelium lining to the serous membranes combining, what choice would be good and sound?
Inside my head, I thought of what my teachers said about all of my digestive tract parts.
The stomach, the liver, the pancreas, I shivered, oh what could I live best without?.

The stomach is useful and serves a frugal, place to store my whole dinner.
It’s stretches so great, and I know my fate, without it I would be much thinner.
it secretes the acid that keeps bacteria placid, and starts the proteins dividing
The signals it sends tells when hunger should end, and for hormones it does ample providing

It churns the food, until it does extrude through the sphincter to the duodenum.
It has microvillus galore, and that is all for the absorption to be quite optimum
The border enzymes marches to break down the starches,
then the blood takes the sugars away.
The liver adds bile, and in a little while the micro chorions are conveyed
through the lacteals , which is ideal, into the blood they are delayed.

The pancreatic juices have so many uses, and are not to be ignored,
it adds bicarbonate, that coordinates, ‘til neutral pH is restored.
It also contains enzymes amaze, trypsinogen, chymotrypsinogen,
carboxypeptidase, lipase, nucleases and amylase.

But should I forget the pancreatic islets, for the importance they do play?
They send the hormones, it does it alone, helping your blood sugar stay level all day.
Insulin links with cells and we think, it helps load them with the glucose.
In the liver it sends a quiver, to get some glycogen produced.
On the other hand when glucagon from the pancreas does swell
the glycogen the liver made no longer there doth dwell.

When the small intestine has had it’s say,
it goes through the ileocecal valve and gets pushed away.
There is it met by microbial pets, and gets even further digested,
ions and vitamins and  water are all from there sequestered.

As it moves up and around it often makes sounds and gasses do depart.
and then  all the brown starts bearing down, and through my anal valve comes a fart.
About every half hour I feel the power, as the haustas does contract.
and if I don’t comply, it will get dry, as more water it does extract.

My rectum and anus is designed in the plainness of layers of squamous epithelium
the layers of skin is a strong and yet thin way to protect me from painful delirium.
My anal sphincter’s my friend and keeps me from offend-ing all of my nice underwear.
its voluntary control, keeps me on a roll until I find a bathroom somewhere.

The aliens were waiting while I sat there debating, all of the if ands and buts.
So I  told them that in the end,  a piece of me they are not going to cut.
for I had decided, they’d be better off guided to have the GI tract in whole
How it’s connected with blood and lymph vessels, would help them reach their goal.
and better yet, they needed a complete set to see how it all fit together.

So I will vow, you can take me now, in the finals week of this semester!

When I Aced my A & P

When I Aced my A & P (with apologies to the author of “The Cremation of Sam McGee)

Strange things are done in the midday sun by students preparing their labs
they read the directions to start the dissections and then tentatively give it a stab.
These fluorescent lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see
t’was that day in the lab, fetal pig on the slab,
When I aced my A & P

The formaldehyde will cause tears in your eyes and snot drip from your nose
you will try to breath, but the smell will cleave and stick to your hair and clothes
as you cut the pig it burns and stings and you think that you may faint
but there are structures to learn, it’s nearly time to adjourn, so you wont give no complaint

Cardiovascular system, veins and arteries I missed them as I cut my pig right through.
Pull the pericardium apart, so you can see the heart, the vena cava has a bluish hue.
Things I was supposed to get a good look at disappeared beneath my blade;  
“You mean I needed to know that?” I vowed to be more careful with the cuts I made.

The heart was out, and the lungs were flung, the brachial arteries exposed
The renal, gonadal, iliac and femoral, and the kidney sat juxtaposed.
Submandibular we found the salivary gland, and the epiglottis and the esophagus
Followed stomach rugae, the duodenum assayed, and we searched for the urogenital orifice.

From the external nares to the microvillii hairs, I felt I knew my pig well enough
Don’t have to worry about spelling, which is quite compelling,  Can the quiz be really that tough?
25 names of structures, Kay Rezanka would instruct us and then point to it we would.
So we hope and pray to make no guesses today, and see if our studying would make good.

Thyroid gland was found, a brownish mound, at the brachiocephalic junction.
Found the liver lobes, and then I took my probe and pointed to the bladder of urinary function.
10 more to go, I was on a roll, getting every one correct
I was doing so well, my hope began to swell until the one structure I did not suspect.

My head hung in shame, for I had forgotten the name of the structure that was before me.
So I sat there and stared, sifting through my memories in err, but the answer was not to be.
I thought it out logically, compared it homologically,  naming everything else I saw
I winced and I cried, brought a tear to my eye, this item was my one flaw.

Then I looked at my pig, tied and rigged , with the skin peeled from its face
Until I saw it’s eyes, in their baby size, staring back at me from space.
As the eyes stared at me they seemed say “I understand why you are doing this.
but I just wanted to say, since I have your attention today, here’s the ductus arteriosus that you missed.”

My brain was wracked, for I had cracked, but now I could scrape by
A glimmer I saw, and I was in awe, as a light beam, hit my eye,
Above the heart, just beyond the start, was the pulmonary trunk’s little connection
to the aortic arch, my mouth became parched, as I quickly made my selection.

Strange things are done in the midday sun by students preparing their labs
they read the directions to start the dissections and then tentatively give it a stab.
These fluorescent lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see
t’was that day in the lab, fetal pig on the slab,

When I aced my A & P

Thursday, September 11, 2014


We are homeschooling all of our children this year. 7 kids and we are trying to survive in harmony.

The interesting this is that we are discovering that we are teaching art, chores and cooperation more then academic work. We are letting the kids explore the work around them. Everything to Caterpillar and butterfly pets to learning music and horse-riding. The youngster are beginning to ask questions and are finding their own personal thirst for knowledge, rediscovering innate curiosity.

I find it interesting how many of the essential life living skills are ignored entirely in schools, things like tying your shoes, working in cooperation, doing things because you want to make life better for yourselves or loved ones, making food, growing food, chores, teaching others, being kind, living in a community. I find it interesting that we put so much effort into academic pursuits that we forgot how to feed ourselves, and we put so much emphasis on ¨earning a living" that we forgot how to live our lives everyday.

Schools also seemed to forget that the foundations of academic learning lie in the arts and essential life skills.  Once those skills are mastered, then it is much easier to understand and incorporate the academics skill sets.

Nothing quite liking having 2 weeks at home with your kids to realize what essential skills they are lacking. Maybe we will start with conflict resolution.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Unleash the Youth!

In the Book of Mormon there is a story about a group of people who buried their weapons of war and committed to peace. This was great until a big war came about. Then the people felt bad that they couldn't help fight to protect their lands and people, but their children had not made that covenant. So the young people, just kids 10- 16ish years old stepped up and created an army.

Untrained, and young enough to be fearless, they learned the art of war while protecting their people. In the larger army, these young people, what we would call tweens and teenagers (usually with a sigh, rolling our eyes), repeatedly stepped in and saved the older warriors. Over and over they had the energy and vitality to do what was needed doing to save the day.

In our fight to keep our planet inhabitable, in our fight for a better world, should we leave our young people in Jr. High? Or should we let them form an army of doers, designers, and  thinkers?

Are our young people not up to the task of saving our planet from us? Do we not need the help in redesigning our systems?

They have bodies stronger and more supple then ours. They have brains as fast as lightening, and  energy to do and lots of energy to do. They were born using computer technologies, and They are also free of the distractions of making a living.


We can trust them, they are un-jaded, they just need to be pointed in the right direction and given a few course corrections now and then.

They learn responsibility by having responsibility. They learn to do things by doing things. They have pure motives.

We need to trust them and watch them earn it and re-earn it 100 times over.  They will save the day if we let them.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Food Count- last 24 hrs

I found some old food counts on here.... thought I randomly start some again. The changes will be interesting to compare.

9pm- 3 zucchini brownies (vegan, whole wheat) with PB topping
7pm- 1 coconut bliss ice cream cone (sugar cone)
6pm- banana, 2 PB and J sandwiches, grapes
5pm- (in car) nuts and dried fruit
12pm- big salad with apples, carrots, greens, peas, some walnuts.
8:30 am- bowl of berries and peaches with almond milk and 1/2 C granola on top.

Brights Fruits- 3 cups
Leafy Greens- 3 cups
Other veggies- 3 cups
Refined foods- some 1/2 wheat bread, cooked nuts (rather then preferred raw), fake ice cream and cone, touch of refined sugars in brownies.

Greens- yes
Beans- missing
Onions- only a little in salad
Mushroom- none- I should go eat one right now
Berries- yes
Seeds- yes

1 point for each cup of F and V.
1 point for each g-bomb filled.
-1 point for each serving of refined foods.
3 points for serious exercise.

Total today:  11.5

Friday, August 22, 2014

unprofitable servant

I work for my mother, She's a rich exec, who sold 1 business and is dabbling in building another. Because I had a baby and the need to get out of the house, I offered her my talents before offering them to the wider community. She snatched me up to be her assistant.

In her employment I have done/been  many things:
1. A personal shopper
2. An event organizer
3.  A caterer
4. A cook/ kitchen prep
5. Accounting assistant
6. Genealogist
7. Researcher, scientific, social and misc.
8. Pet sitter
9. Writer, technical and other
10. Gardener, indoor and out.
11. Talk writer

I have help set up many things, websites, plant water filters, slide shows, events.

But  mostly, I bring her grandbaby over.

However much I do for her and "earn. (she pays me enough to keep from looking for any other employment)" She always manages to turn around and just for fun buy me things, that I, with out her could never afford.

Overall, I feel like an unprofitable servant. I can never giver her more then she gives me, (Besides financial, I also get all sorts of sanity saving and emotional support, encouragement to continue pursuance of my dreams and just plain intellectual stimulation.) Add on that the normal mothering she has given me (like life and raising to adulthood, college ...ect). Gee, I guess I can never repay her for all. But I can keep trying.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Toddling Through Demolition Zones

"I've been to Jr High, and you can never pay enough to go back."

I have heard that quote or ones like it several times in my life. Today was a day like it.
"I have been to hell, parenting young, over active and extra destructive children, and never wish to go back."

But today, just like when one has a minor heart attack, walking back through the halls of the Jr High they went to, I tasted it again.

My first child has autism, and was extra tall for his age. The second child was very happy to follow his lead for the first 4 years of his life. I lived in a demolition zone for the first 12 years of their lives. Every day they would find new and more creative ways to wreak havoc and permanent harm upon our domicile and all things in and around where ever they were.

As parents of the destructive whirlwinds, we were always trying to out maneuver their abilities, putting locks on doors (the one blocking the kitchen off was a key to sanity), building shelves 10 feet off the floor and giving up the concepts of ever having an intact door, dry wall with no holes, an un-ripped book, or un -shattered glass wear. This got so bad, that when we finally had a house built for us, we had drains put in every floor and wood boards put behind all the dry walls.

It wasn't until about 2 years ago, when the addition was built, that we actually decided the extra expense of the boards behind the drywall would not be necessary. It is really nice when your F5 tornadoes of children become teenage ready leaders, and are starting collage classes before they are out of high-school.

So, I still have youngsters, preschoolers, toddlers, babies. They have all been calm and happy compared to the first 2/3. ... However, my sister and mother somehow maneuvered so we would have her 3 young children today.

Hello Hell, I have to say, I haven't missed you.

We got a kiddie pool and sprinkler to help keep them busy. So they were running in and out of the house with buckets of hot water to help warm the pool. Not bad idea if you enjoy having a trail of wet sand through your house, from the side door, through the entry, the living room and the laundry room.

Then they got tired of it and wanted to play upstairs, so I some how found clothes for them all to wear (it turns out all their clothes, except their swimsuits were in grandpa's car).  And they went upstairs to play. A little while later one of the kids comes down and says he needs to go outside to see the results of the water experiment they were doing upstairs.

Which meant I had to go see what they were doing upstairs. They had ripped a hole in the bedroom screen and tossed things through it to the roof below them, and then commenced pouring water through the window, which in our house, allows the water to possibly be caught in the insulation under the window.

So I sent them all outside again and locked the doors. Of course they couldn't stay out of the kiddie pool. so soon they are playing mostly naked outside, having taking off the sets of, now wet, clothes I put on them. Then they decided to come inside and empty everything in search of the swimsuits they had on only and hour ago.

After they left the former contents of our sandbox in my bath tub, and the floor full of sopping towels, Grandma called. She was done with her meeting.

Even though I did laundry all day. I think the pile ended up bigger than it started.

Amy, I love you, and I love your children, But I have decided I prefer kid over kids, and I am really starting to like teenagers. Whenever there is enough of them to gang up on you..... you should at least be allowed to use a tazor, or tear gas (only I couldn't handle any more crying!). When I left the bathroom to grab them a towel I literally overheard Kira and Shannon plotting against me.

WOW, now I remember why whenever I tried to clean the house that the house would end up dirtier then when I started. I think I will keep my teens.

Monday, June 23, 2014

The Nursing Culture

I have seen too much lately about rape culture. In the world were we live we have become obsessed with idea that breasts are sexual items and that the sight of them and make a man's hormones get the better of him. However, in my experience, the only person to go gaga at my sight of my breasts is my hungry nursing babies.

I have weaned 5 boys, and not 1 of them thinks anything of seeing breasts of a mother nursing her baby. To them it is just the way babies eat. Of course, I suspect in the right circumstances, where a girl is attempting to entice them (like on their wedding night) I trust that the right unveiling of the breasts will get the their male parts to stand at attention. However, even in those circumstances one would have to admit that the reason they stir feelings is that the ultimate role is that in nurturing the children created in that bond.

So anyways, my basic attempt here is to theorize that if people were used to thinking of breasts in terms of nurturing babies, then maybe, just maybe, they would be much less inclined to think of them as purely sexual objects. And that if we, as a culture, were used to seeing them used as natures intended purposes, then perhaps we might not think of them as objects, but as an integral part of motherhood, and nurturing.

Maybe, we need to re-throne motherhood to dethrone the sexualization of our culture.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

but I will not forget thee

It must hard being the 7th child.
Once in a while, while juggling the needs of her six older siblings she has been forgotten. Once I got her all ready to go, put her in her car seat and then went to the parent teacher conferences without her. I didn't even remember I'd forgotten her until one if the teachers asked how she was doing. (She was safe at home with daddy and slept the whole time.) but it surprised me. Since when do nursing mothers forget their baby? I mean, seriously, our boobs ache when we go too long without them. 

Tonight is forgotten her again. She was asleep downstairs and I went to go to bed, forgetting to bring her up to bed until after I saw her bed empty. 

This is an amazing, happy, awesome baby that I have waited 7 kids to get- to forget her would be to ignore all my motherly longings since I started naming my future children when I was 12. 

Ah, how thankful I am that I have someone in my life who will never forget me.  

Isaiah 48:15
Shall a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?  Yeah, they may forget, yet I will not forget thee.
Behold, I have graven thee; on the palms of my hands....

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

I always laughed before the punch line anyways.

After reading through a lot of my old posts (full moons can do that to you), I realized that I am technical writer who is attempting to write something humorous. But the harder I try at conveying humor, the more technical the details become, in hope that others can see the connections of what could have/should have or maybe possibly will happen and find the exquisite dead pan humor in the situations as they mostly didn't unfold. Many of the situations can be summed up in either your laugh or you cry, especially in the intense concentrations of theses events that are apparent in my everyday life.

In attempt to convey the intense emotions (that are locked away to be dealt with at some future time) of these situations, I have tried to show the moments that bring exquisite joy, pain, and weirdness to my life, often written near the moments for the rawness/freshness to be truly exhibited.

But the humor, the humor and little ironies, and the large ironies of life that I so enjoy can not be adequately recorded with out much time and contemplation given to each word and phrase of each post. It is hard to share the inner working of my mind in words. Perhaps I should take up painting great works of art that can only be enjoyed once I am long dead.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Why Moms of Many don't exersize

I mean it, I really planned to jump on my treadmill today.

I knew it would have to be after work, but then I ...
ran to the store
made dinner
helped with homework
changed a diaper
nursed a baby
attempted to change a faucet
gave up and re hooked the old one up
went through the report cards
held scripture study
read stories
made school lunches
made cookies for lunches
tucked a girl in
tucked a boy in
changed a diaper
read another story, this time about trains
started the laundry
changed another diaper
nursed the baby (actually for the 4th time since dinner)
and then my phone goes off reminding me that it is time to get to bed
and I still need to shower.

Monday, January 13, 2014

Soul Sucking

It is always fun, in a soul sucking way, to  meet with our financial advisers. Part of the fun is the fact that we have spent (and continue to spend) the vast majority of our time and energies raising our children. Among our 7 beautiful additions to this world are 3 that have special needs. Yes, we deal with autism, ODD, spinal bifida, mood disorders, the terrible twos and the dreaded teenagers on a daily basis.

 They suggest we hire outside help for the children so we can go and get a career. (Even if we don't break even on costs of career income minus a tutor for our children). Le Sigh... Of course that often seems to be kin to a major sin to refuse to perpetuate a broken system that values your contributions out of your home more then the contributions within your home.  Of course, when you make your money out of the stock and bonds system, anything that grow the economy is good for you. So if I get a job, and have to hire my job out and then drive through on the way hone because I am too tired to cook. It all adds to the economy (as it is counted), but subtracts from what matters most to me, my family. It just doesn't seem logical to do so. When I consider this scenario, I hear a life sucking sound, where all my efforts go to building someone else's coffers and not the one things that truly matter.

Everything we do is for our children. I just wish it could make a difference in the longevity of the world. Sometimes, other times I kinda look towards heaven and wish the end of the world to hurry up. But maybe that should be part of my equation. What good is a career and investments in financial markets when the world ends?

With what time we may or may not have left on the planet, should I not also consider that the economy as we know it perpetuates the destruction of the world? Without the desires for increased wealth would we not have made better decisions as a country or world? Would we not have possibly considered that we can't breath soot or drink liquid coal and put tons of CO2 into the atmosphere with no consequences?

Seriously folks... you are worried about my retirement plan, instead of if there will be a world to retire on?

PS- I don't plan on retiring, I plan on working and building and learning and teaching and creating as much positive in the world as I can all the days of my life. I plan to prepare for the changes ahead, and to ride through them with my family.