All things family-related. My husband and me, the children we made, the grandbebes that thrill us now. Our whole great big, loud, messy family. Love! *sigh…
We had the craziest, zaniest dump of snow yesterday. Blue skies and warm temps turned into one of those howling Little-House-on-the-Prairie snow blizzards, following a fierce rainstorm. Weird day. But closing lots of offices and all the schools down, this will be a great day to focus on our new little grandbebe: #6! Yeah! We are excited. To the hospital, soon, we hope…with our brownies and M & Ms and cameras and joyousness!
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes…
IN OTHER BABY NEWS: Wrex and Stef just found out this morning that they are having a GIRL! What a wondrous day! Stef’s FB says “Big bows, animal prints and lots of pink, here we come!” They are due on 8-9-10, which is a pretty cool date, yes? Their first! Happy, happy!
Maybe far away
Or maybe real nearby
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straighting his tie!
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill
She’s sitting playing piano,
He’s sitting paying a bill!*
He was born “Baby boy Bigham” on March 23rd, fifty-one years ago to a young girl in rural Kansas who would leave the hospital without him. When he was 5 days old, the Rhoades family signed adoption papers and picked him up there, where he’d been left to himself those first important days. That precarious beginning is probably why little David Allen Rhoades, a gentle-hearted, deeply-dimpled boy grew up to be such a family man, so devoted to creating a large, loving, caring and loyal family. And why his motto is, and the kids still laugh about it, “Never go against the family,” from The Godfather.
*Betcha they’re young
Betcha they’re smart
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays, and art!
Betcha they’re good —
(Why shouldn’t they be?)
Their one mistake
Was giving up me!
So maybe now it’s time,
And maybe when I wake
They’ll be there calling me “Baby”…
Maybe.
Foresight.
When Dave married me and took Tara as his own daughter on July 23, 1981, he alleviated my parents’ fears for her future by telling them he now understood why he’d been given in adoption. He found purpose, believing he could become her daddy and they’d have that special *chosen* bond in common, something they would understand about each other.
And when he proposed, he looked into our future and told me, “I want you to be the mother of my children.” I could not have comprehended the depth of the honor of that request in that moment, lovesick and swept away by emotion as I was. But in saying yes! I do! I have reaped the benefit of being married to a man who has been committed to building a lasting heritage, a legacy that will live on for a very long time.
*Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she’s made me
A closet of clothes!
Maybe they’re strict
As straight as a line…
Don’t really care
As long as they’re mine!
He is…
He is an extraordinary “poppa,” loving those grandbabies zealously. As for his passionate love for his children? His pride and pleasure in the people his children have become and the spouses they have chosen? It’s evident in his beam when he speaks of them to his students or friends.
He teaches. He preaches. He stretches his own canvases and paints in color. He sings and dances and acts – on stage! He writes books and has story after story inside him – just waiting to be told!
He is honoring to my mom and respects my dad so much. He is a pal to my siblings and loves the nieces and nephews. He reminds me to call my mom and anytime I mention going to visit my parents he says: Do it, honey. You shouldgo.They’ll like that.
Dave is a thoughtful man, making sure the toilet ring is never up to surprise me, and he never forgets to take the trash out on the right day. He’s man enough to buy *woman-stuff* for me and just seems to divine when I must have a Cheetos night 2 or 3 times a year – as if he just knew that nothing else on that night would suffice.
He does dishes and laundry (not big on folding, but he hangs anything and everything that can be hung and seems to enjoy it – which is why I will keep letting him do it). He cooks for me if I need him to and tucks cash in to my wallet just because. He charges my phone, fills the gas tank and carries heavy stuff for me.
Dave is a nice guy and a good husband. And I am mostly thankful that even though I kinda think I am, he tells me I am not crazy. And he sees my drive and tendency to jump into the deep end of life (he has called it, going at everything in life “like a house on fire“) as me being passionate, alive and lively. And he likes that about me.
Loving and loved.
So today, I celebrate Dave’s life. Even though 51 years ago he was alone, today he is surrounded by hundreds of students and family and friends and even fans (he was a spectacular Daddy Warbucks) who know his worth and his value and how lucky they are to know him. I know I am.
And I am happy that he spent the last 6 months getting that A1c level down from 13-14% to 6% and has taken huge strides in reversing his Type 2 Diabetes! He is healthier now than he has been for 5+ years. I have always loved those Perry Mason-broad shoulders and I am so proud of him, he is looking good! So glad that we’ll be celebrating his birth and the life he lives for many years to come!
Happy birthday, my husband. I love you. I am loving all the changes.
And so glad the hair will be growing back now, too!
*So maybe now this prayer’s
The last one of it’s kind…
Won’t you please come get your “Baby”
Maybe…
Pictured: Top, Dave at age 1, then at age 4 or 5 with his mom and in April 1981 speaking at chapel at Northwest Bible College just before he graduated. Next, Dave and the original 4 daughters at Stonebrook Manor last week. Then, watching a video of his Annie performance with some of the grandbebes one Sunday night (Gavin, Guini, Gemma, and Averi); Next, Dave with some of the grandkids the night he was going to be getting his hair shaved off (Hunter, Averi, Guini and Gemma). Then, Dave at Stonebrook Manor for one of the fundraising dinners, Dave backstage with some “orphans” from Annie. Finally, Dave and I at Stonebrook Manor last week and on our way to a Heaven Fest potluck a couple of weeks ago.
*Lyrics: “Maybe” from Annie, the song that made Dave tear up at almost every performance over the past couple of months…because he understood…
We whipped up some “official supporter” t-shirts as thank-you gifts for the people attending our vision dinners this month. We thought we’d do a nice, spring-full-of-hope-and-brightness version, rather than the ever popular black t-shirt (and because people have been requesting it). We decided on a bright white with Heaven Fest green (aka Jeanie-green) print.
See the groovy-70s green above? That slightly yellow-er green that matches my computer??? Uh-huh. That was the green I was expecting.
Here is what we got.
It was such a unique green color I thought the t-shirt guy (who is w o n d e r f u l to us, btw) had invented it! I think I’ll call it: Longmont Green.
But leave it to Stef and Wrex to turn it into a beautiful St. Patrick’s Day fashion statement. They really did look bright and beautiful at our family dinner for Wrex’s wRunzas night! You can hardly tell Stef is pregnant (due 8/9/10…how cute is that??), but Wrex is showing a little more.
How did Stef manage to match that Longmont green? She is good!
We ate Runzas, aka Nebraskan Mystery-Meat Sandwiches, now known as Wrex’s wRunza’s and plopped on the couch for a family photo (everyone is there, but sadly you can only see Tredessa’s legs on the right, Rocky’s knee and Jovan’s pregnant belly on the left…guess we should have checked that…?), and ate lots of delicious desserts (Stef made 2 rolled ice cream cakes: a Reese’s PB and a mint-chocolate and Stormie did Andes-Mint-style Brownies)!
Most everyone wore green (although I have never seen so many clashing shades of it in my life), so we pinched each other just because anyway.
I call this portrait: Two bald guys in the kitchen.
Our planned entertainment of timing Jovan’s contractions was not to be. But the grandbebes kept us laughing and the ‘wRunzas’ turned out, so it was a good night.
It’s not THAT KIND of snow!!!
Yes, it is snowing today – the day before spring. But simmer down, people. It has been warm. It is not here to stay. Do you know why it is here???
To make everything GREEN!
Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope!
Romans 15.7 The Message
I can live with that!
God spoke: “Earth, green up! Grow all varieties of seed-bearing plants, Every sort of fruit-bearing tree.” And there it was. Earth produced green seed-bearing plants, all varieties, And fruit-bearing trees of all sorts. God saw that it was good. It was evening, it was morning— Day Three.
Averi is sprouted ponytails and bananas and cream oatmeal with blueberries on the side. She’s “I’ll do it myself” in her big girl panties and scrunchy-faced smiles. Averi is red-flannel pajamas and cheeks that won’t quit. She’s “Rocky? Rocky!” when calling for her beloved daddy’s attention and she is 2 going on 32. Already a pro at being a bit of a sassy, independant and directive firstborn, new baby Rhoades (due any second now) will already have her life’s itinerary planned out for her…by Averi.
But oh when she stops to have a little conversation and thens melts into you with a committed hug, {sigh} Averi…what a surprise!
G is for Gavin
G is for Gavin who is growing up fast. He is all boy and football and friendship and freckles. He has loose teeth and thick hair and he’s white, but that kid can jump! He is responsible and organized and such a wonderful big brother. He is 6 and he’s 1st grade and he holds my heart and my confidence like no other. He is the firstborn, the firstfruit, the heir to it all. Zealous and hard-working, he is always ready to tear into whatever project I have wondered about starting with his “let’s get to it” attitude. And he said to me last Sunday, “Nonna, I sure wish we had some garden tomatoes. Maybe this week we should start gardening?”
The boy is a genius, I tell ya! He knows the best of everything and loves tomatoes like me!
G is for Guinivere
I love the flower girl. And that is my Guini. She tip-toes through the tulips and petunias and orange daylilies right into my heart. We play school and she ever-so-meticulously colors hers papers until there is not a naked spot left or until the washable Crayola marker she is using has run completely out of ink! And while she works on her masterpiece, she peppers me with the important things in her life. “Hey, Nonna, can I watch some Sprout when I’m done with this?” “Hey, Nonna, can I have some popcorn? Oh wait – do you have crackers? I LOVE crackers!” “Hey, Nonna, we got a trampoline and I can jump really high.”
And a couple of weeks ago when I asked her if she got to eat some of the Oreo/chocolate-chip/milk-chocolate mousse I had sent to her house (leftover filling from Jovanie’s cake). She clarified, “The cookies in pudding?” An oversimplification, if I do say so, yet she warmed my heart withher enthusiastic review, “Oh, it was TASTEEEEE!!”
G is for Gemma
For Gem-Gem, not only is everyone she meets her newest and bestsest friend in the world, everyone she meets is also an audience for her interpretive dancing, for she lives to make people smile with her art. But not “Miss Hannigan.” “I don’t like Miss ‘Cannigan’, Poppa. Miss ‘Cannigan’ is a bad person,” her little voice quivers in fright as she speaks of the orphange-woman in the Annie play. Gemma is spunky and two, a little lamb and a tiny dancer. She is cuddly and independant and will smile for any reason she can find. She performs and she sings “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow,” with arm flailing exuberance.
She is our own Annie, our very own Fancy Nancy with maybe a smidge of Pippi Longstocking mixed in! She makes my heart giggle!
H is for Hunter
Hunter’s a thinker, a little guy who reasons big. He’ll argue his point until you give in by sheer exhaustion. He is right when he’s right and right even if he is not. He is as smart as a whip and smarter than most adults. He will call you on every inconsistency, hypocrisy and duplicity. The kid is cute and loves his cousins, his mama and the world. He has already planned his life’s path to fly mission supplies around the world where he will be able to speak all languages fluently and touch the world for Jesus. He is currently in love with theater due to his poppa being in Annie and enjoys theatrically answering “yes” questions with a big, long, loud, “You’re daaaaaarn tootin’!”
When I said I needed to snap some photos for a blog post I’d written about them all, Hunter turned to Gavin with the wary look and said, “That’s what she always says.” Hunter is the Little Prince, wise beyond his years, fit to rule the kingdom.
Soon? Our alphabet will be turned upside-down with a brand-new bebe! Any second now…
Baby Rhoades is due anytime. And I know you are ready-ready-ready, but I am hoping you will wait until after your due date (the 20th)…just a smidge, mind you, and stop taking all these walks and eating all these things your friends are suggesting to get your labor going. I think when you understand my schedule, you will agree that waiting until March 21st or after will be best.
Tonight, fundraising dinner at The Stonebrook.
Tomorrow night, fundraising dinner at The Stonebrook.
Sunday-a day of rest. I will need one, don’t you agree?
Monday-plan for next week’s dinners and some meetings.
Tuesday night speak at a mommy’s group at New Hope
Wednesday night: Family Dinner for Wrex’s Wrunza’s on St Pat’s Day
Thursday night-taking some grandbebes to Annie for the last chance I will have to see it. (Dad will be performing in Annie through Saturday)
Friday night another big ministry event
Saturday night, yet another “Heaven Fest is coming!!” fancy-schmancy event-party-thing.
Whew!
So, you see, Jovan? Sunday the 21st is really the best option. Don’t you think so?
Haha. I didn’t think you would! : )
REALLY~ I can’t wait! Cannot wait!! In the midst of everything happening, there is NOTHING more important to me than the arrival of GRANDBEBE #6!!
And remember: I tried to help!
Forever 21 at Flatirons
We did a hardcore shopping marathon last Sunday: Jovan and Averi and me, Stormie, Stef and Tara and Dessa. I don’t like shopping much and Dessa hates it, but the company was delightful. And we thought if we walked Jovan all over for hours and hours, maybe labor would start. Nope. Huh-uh. Nothing. Didn’t happen. Just wore her totally out. But we tried and got some cute stuff in the process. So-that is something!
Watching and waiting and can’t wait for, you, sweet granbebe #6!!!!
In the early morning dark, when you shouldn’t really be awake, I reach over and feel Dave’s temporarily-bald head.
“You feel like GI Joe,” I tell him, referring to those really great GI Joe dolls of the 1960s that looked like Rock Hudson and had this short, fuzzy hair. Dave has 2 days’ growth.
“You can be my Barbie,” he replies, referencing the fact that when I played Barbies with my friends as a young girl, I let the others have Ken and opted to use my bothers’ GI Joe as my particular love interest.
In totally unrelated news: And, by the way, I got to see the colorful, bright and delightful Carol Channing star in “Hello, Dolly” in the 90’s. It was soooooo cool!
Dave with hair, in the kitchen; Dave without hair for his performance in Annie, onstage.
NOTE: He is rumored to have been advised to start growing his hair long, really long – which he is able to do easily, for a possible starring-pirate kind of role next year. People, I implore you! Did Carol Channing ever have to change her hair this much?
5 pounds of MM Fondant (I am such a novice and not a sculptor, but people like fondant), over almond-bouquet buttercream over dark fudge chocolate cake (2-layer), filled with Oreo/chocolate-chip/milk-chocolate mousse. Created the baby’s bum and chunky legs from Rice Krispie treats because the thought of wrapping cake pieces made me hyperventilate. Averi’s feet were my inspiration.
Did it for Jovan, with love, as we anticipate new Baby Rhoades, to-be-born in 2 weeks.
Ruth 4. 15 For [my] daughter-in-law, who loves [me] and who is better to [me] than seven sons….
Neither Tredessa nor Averi could resist tickling the feet. The main cake, for size reference, is a 12″ cake, about 4″ high. So the baby is sort of a month or so old maybe, but with big feet? I don’t know…ever-so-slightly life-like in size…?
Due June 30, Stephanie surprised us by arriving mid-May, before we’d exhausted the baby-name books searching for the perfect description. But the official hospital person arrived to record the legal information and we named her. Her middle name is for the beautiful, delightful spring month in which this bassinet-full-of-joy came to us, turning life upside down in happiness. {Perfect.}
Stormie Dae
Stormie in Taiwan
Very long story, the shortened version of which is, “Stormie” was a done-deal, but Stormie also happened to arrive during a freak ice-storm/snow- blizzard in Iowa following such sunny and lovely days, her siblings had already been splashing in their wading pool. Dae seemed a natural variation to the stormie day she was born. A {Dae} to remember.
They now blog.
Stephanie and Stormie are known for being very creative, intuitive, resourceful and savvy. Today they have the launched MayDae the blog, with more exciting pursuits to follow. You will L O V E it!!!! Happiness.
1982 when I was pregnant with Stephanie. I’d never had more than a cheeseburger and small fry at a fast food, but Dave insisted I try it and I LOVED it! I actually got addicted to them. Now I just get Whopper Juniors, but, mmmm…charbroiled!
First Big Mac
NEVER! Two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun? It’s the onions. I cannot take them, plus McDonalds? Ick. And-I consider this the one thing that makes me unique in any way. I have never had a Big Mac. And I never shall.
First full sentence
“I’m gonna go to church!”
I don’t say that nearly as much now – to the great concern of my grandchildren who have asked their parents, “Why doesn’t Nonna go to church?” And to the amusement of Rocky and Tristan who said to me a few weeks ago when I arrived on a Sunday morning, “Good to see you here. This is the result of a lot of people praying.” Yuk-it-up, boys.
Once a church girl, always a church girl. No worries, people.
First plane trip.
I was a senior in high school. I went back to Louisiana after our family had moved to Gary, Indiana because my HS credits didn’t transfer correctly and they were going to make me go all year long. So I finished up back in Hammond. I hung out with Cheryl Bardwell. And Ginger. I met a guy I almost ended up marrying (breaking it off 3 weeks before the wedding is “almost” right?) and I had my first taste of living far away from Ross-the-Boss, Mrs-Moss and the-rest-of-the-Little-Landers. I worked at The Sonic Drive-In for 1 day and finished high school.
First poem I ever wrote
I love my daddy
I want my daddy
I go to see my daddy
He picks me up to love.
~by me at barely 4. It was my first and probably my best. Ever.
First shoes with heels
3rd grade. I started young. They were 1 1/4″ high, navy blue with a cute bow. The first of many. I do not love all shoes like some women, but when I love them, when I have formed the strong emotional connection, they will forever remain in my heart. I will know where I was was when I got them, what the occasion was for looking and the special places they carried me. Oh, yes, I will.
First…(you may not want to know)
Ok, disclaimer. If you are easily embarrassed, don’t read this girly fact. My first period (as in menstrual, not high school schedule) started on David Cassidy’s21st birthday.
First speeding ticket
2 1/2 years ago. I said to him, “Seriously? I am 47 years old and I have never had a ticket!” very decidedly implying he was not going to get away with giving me one because of my very clean record.
The officer very coolly replied, “Only Jesus was perfect.” How did he know that was the one thing I wouldn’t argue with? I still totally disagree that I was going 32 mph over the speed limit. Totally. Disagree.
First job
Working at the church day care center watching pre-schoolers. Unless you count babysitting church people’s kids as a young teen. Which really wasn’t much more money than I’d made gathering sparkly rocks from a shared alley and selling them to my neighbors for candy money when I was 7. So that was it, I guess. Selling rocks.
First movie in a theater
“Gone With the Wind.” I got in so much trouble. It was a school trip tied in with our Civil War series in Social Studies. And I wasn’t allowed to attend movies (church rules, you know), but I did and doggone it if a man from church didn’t see me and tell my dad. Big trouble. But I don’t regret going now. I so appreciate the accuracy with which the Civil War was depicted, the raw and realistic portrayals of Rhett and Scarlet and how I still look at nice drapes for the amazing outfit I might be able to get out of them. Yes, I attribute my above-average resourcefulness to “Gone with the Wind.”
First kiss
Jimmy Green behind the North Pine Church of God in Davenport, Iowa. 1972. And for you inquiring minds? I kissed him. He didn’t know what hit him.
First time in the mountains
I was 11. My parents, my 4 siblings, my aunt and uncle and my 6 cousins and I drove from eastern Iowa to Colorado and camped in the cold Rocky Mountains. There were flower children and hippies everywhere and I loved it. The flower children and hippies are still here getting their Rocky Mountain high, but they are very old now.
First time in the ocean
Spring 1977. My dad let us skip school and we drove to Gulfport, Mississippi (Let your love flow…was playing on the radio) where I remember beautiful white sandy beaches and an ape that spat on my sister in some gas station animal viewing place. Good times. And yes, the Gulf counts – it is still part of the Atlantic.
The First Time Ever I Saw His Face
August 1978 when I first went to Northwest Bible College. I met him by the fountain and he was very shy and I liked to tease him about the girls he liked so I could see his dimples. Though we wrote friendly letters for a couple of years, he didn’t officially ask me out until May 26, 1981. It took him awhile. But we got married less than 2 months after the first date, following the Biblical admonition that it is better to marry than to burn.
First blog post
November 29, 2006. It was so scary. I was afraid to hit the post button. I was afraid to say anything because some one might actually see it. But after about 4 or 5 months, the graphomaniacal tiger in me had been released, never to be recaptured. And on it goes. Everything and waaaaaaay more than you can possibly believe is Mod-Podged onto the collage that is my thought collection.
“It’s a cake day” definitely does NOT have the same meaning for me as it does for most people. “Cake day” for me means I am doing a special-events-celebratory-by-request-decorated cake. Each one of these has the potential for great disaster. Never more than this one I will be attempting today and tomorrow. I have researched similiar cakes to this (diaper-cake) design, requested by my beautiful Jovan. I have found 57 photos. 3 are cute. ONLY THREE! The rest are hilarious disasters. {shaking my head} We shall see…But for Jovanie (who once talked me into a Barbie cake!!??…see below)? Anything!
I am playing my Three Dog Night’s Greatest Hits on the turntable – yes! NOT an MP3, an actual old-fashioned LP record – VINYL, people! Good times! The slight scratchiness adds to the experience.
Did Paul Williams (who had sort of a froggy-puppet look) write good lyrics or what?
Just an old-fashioned love song playin’ on the radio
And wrapped around the music is the sound
Of someone promising they’ll never go
You swear you’ve heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on
No need in bringin’ `em back,
`Cause they’re never really gone
Just an old-fashioned love song
One I’m sure they wrote for you and me
Just an old-fashioned love song
Comin’ down in 3-part harmony
To weave our dreams upon and listen to each evening
When the lights are low
To underscore our love affair
With tenderness and feeling that we’ve come to know
You swear you’ve heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on and
No need in bringin’ `em back,
`Cause they’re never really gone
It is a brilliantly sunny day and just as I was about to toss some onions from the produce drawer (the last of 2009’s onion bounty from my own garden) because they are starting to sprout, I realized it is not too early to go push them into the garden soil where they will grow for this year! Happy! Happy! Happy! Almost made me forget I can’t breathe and my throat hurts and (after 2 weeks of this) I have to go to the doctor’s office later.
