I might be kind of a heathen.

Today, my friend invited me to her church on Sunday. She made a half hearted attempt, it went something like, "Here, I am officially inviting you to church on Sunday for Easter" as she dropped a card into my bag. I told her thanks, and I that I appreciated the invitation, but, uh, you know... And she said yeah, she knew, but she was supposed to invite one person.
I'd like to go to church on Sunday. I'd like to dress up, and wear a hat. I'd like to experience compassion and fellowship and tolerance. I'd like my daughter to go to CCD classes and have her first communion. I'd like to. but.
I've been to Mass a few times here in Albany, and even though I knew all the words, recitations and prayers, I felt like an outsider. I got the feeling that this isn't the kind of church where you can stop by once a week and get free wine and crackers. This is a community. There is a heirarchy.
I'm comfortable with God. I guess I am not that comfortable with church. I think God's okay with that, and here is why:
You know how much you love your kid? Would you ever let your kid die, for any reason? no. It's unimaginable, unthinkable.
God let his kid die for me. That's how much He loves me. It's unimaginable, unthinkable. He loves me more than I love my kid... and He loves me even if we have a long distance relationship.

So while I am not 100% comfortable in His Church, I do occasionally worship at this church. Ramen.

Happy Easter.

A short story

My daughter has Turner Syndrome. Turner Syndrome is a rare growth disorder that affects one in every 2000 girls.
We found out last fall, when she was 11 years old. We knew that she was short, but we weren't too concerned. I guess it's a good thing that her pediatrician was concerned enough to send us to Doernbecher childrens hospital to see a pediatric endocrinologist, Dr. Madison. (cool, huh?)
Dr. Madison ordered tests and told us she suspected Madison had growth hormone insufficiency. She told us a little about Turner Syndrome, but no one really thought Madison had it because she doesn't exhibit many of the classic TS features: short, webbed neck; barrel shaped chest; and out-turned elbows. Madison just looks like a short little me.
I remember when Dr. Madison called with the diagnosis. She was so thoughtful and went to a lot of trouble to explain the diagnosis carefully, but to be quite honest, I didn't hear anything after "Syndrome". I had done enough internet research to think I knew that the news wasn't good.
Which brings me to the point of today's post. There is not a lot of TS information on the internet, and what information there is is often misleading, conflicting, discouraging and flat-out false. We waited a month for an in-person appointment with Dr. Madison to go over my daughter's treatment plan and prognosis, and also to have more tests for many of the associated medical problems that can go along with TS.
TS girls often have heart deformities. Aortic valve anomalies are common. Madison had multiple EKGS and a cardiac ultrasound. She has mild widening of her aortic root, but her cardiologist is not concerned. We are extremely fortunate that the cardiologist she sees, Dr. Michael Silverbach, has a particular interest in TS girls. He has authored or co-authored most of the research out there pertaining to cardiology and Turner Syndrome.
Another common defect is kidney deformities. Again, we dodged a bullet. Madison has two separate perfectly functioning kidneys. It is not uncommon for girls with TS to have one large horseshoe shaped kidney.
Hearing loss is also common. I have read that most of the adult women with TS use some sort of hearing aid. Spencer and I were certain that Madison had hearing loss... but it turns out it is only the selective hearing loss that most kids have.
Many girls with TS have learning disorders. Madison is a straight-A student who has been identified as intellectually gifted. She won her school's spelling bee. However, she has some problems with spatial things like tying her shoes. This may be part of Nonverbal Learning Disorder (Excellent spelling is a sign of NLD) , which has been linked to TS, but we aren't pursuing any type of treatment because she does so well academically.
What Turner Syndrome means for us that Madison will be significantly short, and her ovaries won't work. We give her human growth hormone injections every night, and they are working. When she reaches an acceptable height, (We are hoping for 5') we will discontinue the growth hormone and she will begin taking estrogen, at which point puberty will begin. Unfortunately for Madison, this may be 3 or 4 years from now.
It means she will not be able to get pregnant with her own eggs. If she chooses to become a mother, her options are adoption or donor eggs.

I know that there are parents out there like me, who are scouring the internet for any type of information. I am confident they will find this post. I hope that they see this and realize that there are a lot of variables, and every girl is different. I can say that some of the best TS info I have received is from other parents. There is a great TS group on Yahoo!, and the TS society has conventions every year. We will go this year, since it is in Portland. I am looking forward to it, and I know Madison is, too. Maybe we will see you there.

I admire guinea pigs.

I am intrigued by "All-or-nothing" social experiments, where people do (or refrain from doing) a certain thing for a specified amount of time, and then report.
"Super Size Me" is probably the most well-known of these social experiments. Morgan Spurlock ate only McDonald's food for 30 days, gained weight, and made a film about it.
I thumbed through A Year Without "Made in China" - I tried to read it, but it was a boring book about an interesting idea- one family's year of buying nothing made in China. They found it difficult. I am not sure whether or not they found it rewarding.
That lead me to Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping, which I checked out from the library, in the spirit of the book. I am glad I did, because I found the book unreadable. But the idea... the idea is fascinating.
The "no-shopping" idea may have been inspired by "The Compact", a group that started in San Francisco, with the intent of reducing consumerism by refusing to buy any new products. Mercifully, there is an exception for some "personal" goods.
There was an article in O, the Oprah magazine. The author promised she was going to "live the perfect life" for 30 days. Turns out, she just exercised and ate healthy food everyday. Big deal.
The most interesting account of one of these social experiments was The Year of Living Biblically. It's a great book about an agnostic Jew's attempt to live as the bible instructs- literally- for a year. Funny, educational, thought-provoking. A.J. Jacobs, the author, had an advantage over the others as he was a writer before he became an experimenter. He had previously conducted a social experiment in which he read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica in an attempt to know everything there is to know.

I guess I am thinking about these experiments now because I have made my own commitment to write every day for a year. The idea was sort of hatched when Megan, my cousin, told me that she had thought about doing her own 365 project, where she takes one photograph every day and posts it. It turned into an "I willl if you will" situation... and here we are, nearly one week in. I'm not certain I can be interesting every day for a year. If I only had some sort of "thing" I could blog about....

I've considered: No sugar (too difficult), No profanity (not interesting), Give one thing away per day (logistically challenging, but not impossible- however, what's the point?), no TV (too easy)... I read once that if you study any one thing for 30 minutes a day, you'll be an expert in a year. Maybe I'll test that theory. Now, what to study?

Eight things I like about Albany, Oregon

A few years ago, I was thumbing through an Oregon guide book. The entry for Albany began similar to this: "Perhaps no town in Oregon presents such an ugly face to passersby than Albany."
It stung a little to read, but I couldn't argue with the guy. From the freeway, Albany appears to be little more than a stinky paper mill and some trailer parks. The "real" Albany lies about a half mile west of the interstate, and it's a good (not bad, not great) small city. Or maybe it's a town.
We chose to move to Albany from Stayton because my husband was working in Albany at the time. Shortly after we moved, he was downsized, and he hasn't worked in Albany since. We stayed, because there are a lot of things I like about Albany. Here are some of those things:


* Albany is not pretentious. Albany is geographically situated between Corvallis, a college town with a hip, Sunset magazine feel, and Sweet Home, a failed lumber town with a COPS feel . Albany's vibe is right in the middle of "hip, trendy" Corvallis' and "those folks just don't know any better" Sweet Home's. Albany has just enough culture to support a community theater and a few museums, but not so much that residents have to search too hard for a check cashing joint. Our homes are generally modest, but they do have functioning plumbing. Our cars are seven or eight years old, but they run.

* Albany is bike-friendly. There are no hills in Albany. Most of our major arterials have wide bike lanes, and drivers are polite to cyclists. There are 3 kinds of cyclists in Albany, listed here from least to most common: The Serious Cyclist, who probably uses his bike to commute to work in Corvallis; the Family Cyclist, who only rides between May and September; and the DUI cyclist, who got his drivers license revoked and rides year-round out of necessity.

*River Rhythms/ Mondays at Monteith: Albany's two summer concert series. The "bigger" acts play Monteith Riverpark on Thursday evenings, Mondays are for local and regional artists. Twice a week in July and August, Albany residents bring their blankets and picnic dinners to hear live music on the banks of the Willamette. The last show of the season is usually a state fair caliber artist- we've seen the Dixie Chicks, Sugarland, the Oregon Symphony, and Los Lobos. It's a great family atmosphere, there are arts and crafts tables for children. It's all free- but the city does "pass the hat" to help with expenses.

* Albany Parks and Rec. department: There's no excuse for being bored or sedentary in Albany. We have a ton of parks- one in every neighborhood, the aforementioned Monteith River Park and it's opposite-shore sister Bryant Park; Timber-Linn Park, which is home to the Albany Art and Air Festival and the Timber Carnival, a smaller outdoor ampitheater, numerous soccer and softball fields, and a veteran's memorial; as well as a skate park and an outdoor pool/ water park. The parks department takes great care of its facilites. On top of that, they run a top notch community education program. They offer music, exercise, outdoor skills, cooking, dance and home improvement classes, and maintain a busy calendar of trips and tours for Albany's seniors. In addition to putting on River Rythms and Mondays at Monteith, they produce an annual Children's Performing Arts series that features musicians, pupeteers, acrobats and other educational entertainment for kids. I can't say enough about how well I feel my municipal tax dollars are spent.

*The railroad: Albany is sometimes referred to as "Hub City", a nod to its glory days as a major hub in the golden age of rail. Though that age has passed, Albany is still bisected by a major railroad. Waiting 10 minutes for a train to pass is part of life in Albany, and "Sorry, train..." is a perfectly acceptable excuse for being a minute or two late for an appointment. We can hear the whistles in the distance at night, and they remind me of church organs. A couple years ago, our train depot was restored and renovated, and our now famous "Albany sign" was erected.

*No Wal*Mart: (for the time being): There is only one Wal*Mart in all of Linn County, in Lebanon. It's easy for me to stick to my "I'm not shopping at Wal*Mart"principles when I would have to go pretty far out of my way to buy cheap Chinese crap there. I get my cheap Chinese crap at Target and Kmart in Albany.

*Our new library: If Albany has one thing to be smug about, it's the new library. A generous anonymous donor gave millions of dollars to our library so that they could buy and renovate a vacant office building. The remodel is complete, and our new library is spacious, quiet, contemporary and functional.
*Our old library: In the early 1900s, Andrew Carnegie funded the construction of about 2500 libraries in the United States. Albany has one such library, and it is still in operation. There is a fireplace that gets lit during the Christmas season. The library is small, crowded, dark and wonderful.

I don't think Albany will ever be my hometown. It's where I live now, and I like it most of the time. It's my daughter's hometown, the place she will always think of when she tells her "Back in the Olden Days" stories. I think it will make a nice setting.

Over before it began

The newsletter from the natural foods co-op came in the mail early last week, but I just got around to reading it yesterday. I was excited to see that the co-op will be offering their very popular Beginning Home Beer Brewing class this month. I had found, it would seem, the perfect pastime for my husband and I. I would get the benefit of dabbling, and my husband would get the benefit of beer. Win-Win!
I asked Spencer if he would like to take the class with me, and he amazed me by agreeing, in his own Spencerey way, even though he lacks appreciation for the co-op.
"Which socks should I wear with my sandals?" I think is how he put it. This is significant because Spencer usually just tolerates my goofy ideas, and waits for me to get bored and try something new. He's never participated before.

I read him the course description from the newsletter. Classes are 2 hours long, on Mondays, beginning... April 6. Tomorrow! I was disappointed, as I know from reading past newsletters that the brewing classes fill up fast. I didn't figure there would be spaces available, but I called the store to check.
Lo and behold, there were slots available. In fact, they had almost canceled the class due to lack of interest. I guess the recession has hit the hippies. The guy I spoke to said we could register right before class.
So Spencer and I went to bed, thinking that today would be the beginning of our journey into homemade beer.
This morning, I remembered that Madison has soccer practice tonight, and every Monday. Logistically, it would be difficult, at best, to get her home from practice and fed and make it to the co-op on time. Plus, today is Opening Day, and we have a tradition of eating hot dogs in front of the TV on Opening Day.
So we decided to hope the beer classes are offered again. I think we were both looking forward to spending time together and sharing a project, more than the actual class itself. Well, that's what I was looking forward to, anyway. Spencer was probably just in it for the beer.

Things I have learned this week

Today in the lovely Willamette Valley, the rythmic hum of lawnmowers fills the air. It is a sunshiny day and I rode my bicycle to the YMCA and back. The front door is open.

* I am an excellent starter, but a piss poor finisher. This personality trait may have something to do with my "dabbling". This week I started writing daily. I have three or four pieces started, but I can't seem to finish them. You may have noticed that the soccer post ends sort of in the middle. This is an example of the piss poor finishing I am referring to.
* My cousin Megan has a blog and is doing a 365 photos project. She takes great photos, and she is hilarious. I have something to look forward to each day.
*Costco has pulled a muffin switcheroo. Muffins used to be 18/ $6.49. The crappy part was that you either had to buy 18 bran muffins, or buy the assortment they chose, which always seemed to include 6 poppyseed that nobody likes. Now, they package the muffins in individual flavor trays, 6 to a tray, and let you choose 2 flavors for $6.49, which effectively raises the price of the muffins from 36 cents each to 54 cents each.
* my keyboard doesn't have the "c with the line through it" cents symbol.
* I want an old school Nikon or Olympus camera with lots of lenses and filters, and I want to learn to use it to take amazing photgraphs on film.
In conclusion, I learned some things this week.

Ole Ole Ole

Soccer season started today in Albany, Oregon. About one hour after dawn, SUVs and pickup trucks began filling the gravel parking lot at the city park near the airport. Parents filed across the wet grass to secure a good spot on the sidelines. Players searched out their teammates and began passing their balls back and forth. The balls bogged down in the freshly mowed grass and were followed by small rooster tails.
As game time neared, I dug my whistle and stopwatch out of my bag and removed sweatpants to reveal my referee's shorts and socks. I left my jacket on as long as possible. I asked my daughter to be a linesman, which she was thrilled to do. I think the coaches may have questioned that assignment, as Madison is about as tall as their 7 and 8 year old players, but she is almost 12, and a stickler for rules.
I checked the players' shoes and shinguards, and made sure they weren't wearing any jewelry. I made my same old joke about removing belly button piercings, and they all laughed.
The game came and went rather uneventfully. I only had to stop it once for tears- a redheaded defender had to pee real bad. I think the Daisies bested the Petunias 4-3, but I am not exactly sure since we don't keep score. Everyone's a winner!
I thanked my young linesman for a job well done as we walked to the regulation size Under 14 field for her game.

New Neighbors

I miss Perfect Neighbor Pat. Pat bought the house next to ours about 3 years after we moved in. He bought it from Duke and Kelly, who we called the Puke and Smelly, because if it was funny in the third grade, we like it here in the Headley house. We were glad to see Puke and Smelly go, because frankly, they were a little too uppity for our neighborhood. All the houses in my neighborhood were built in 1964. The houses are all rectangles. We all have two car garages, and we all have washers and dryers in the garage. Which means most people do not park two cars in their garage, because if you do, there is not room to do laundry. But Puke parked his Suburban next to the washer and dryer, and backed it into the driveway each time Smelly needed to do a load of laundry, then returned it to the garage as soon as she finished. Sometimes three or four times a day. They really needed to get to a fancier neighborhood with utility rooms.
We couldn't have asked for a better neighbor than Pat. He was friendly, but not too friendly. He was a salesman for the radio station, and a tennis instructor at the tennis club, so he would come and go a lot. Every time we were outside together, he would say "Well, hello there!" and make a comment about the weather. That's it. He drove a BMW, which was a little too much class for our neighborhood, but we forgave him because he is single. He kept his lawn mowed. He was perfect.
We were shocked when a woman moved in with him. He was 40ish, sharp dresser, good job... we just assumed there was never going to be a Mrs. Pat. We were astonished when he moved out with the woman and put his home up for rent.
The first set of renters had small kids, loud voices and pit bulls. They were gone after a month or two. The next two guys were muffler haters. They liked to warm up their rigs for 10 to 20 minutes, and they were LOUD. Nice guys, but that got old. I was not sad to see them packing up last weekend.
Today, I have new hope. I see that a young couple is moving in. She has nerdy glasses like me, and he has long, but not too long, hair. They have a dog, but no kids.
I want them to be the kind of neighbors that bring over a box of apples from their tree. I would give them flowers or zucchini. They will roll my trash cans up to the house on Thursdays, I'll pick up their newspaper if they go out of town for the weekend.
Maybe we will be friends. Maybe they are the type of young hipsters that entertain, and they will invite us over for grilled tuna. Maybe we will discover that we have things in common, like a love of all things cycling. Perhaps we will wile away many a hot summer evening in the back yard, under a string of white lights, listening to Adult Contemporary music, drinking wine and beer and discussing nerdy things like shopping at the co-op and alternative transportation.
But I'll be satisfied if they just keep the damn grass cut.

The first step is the hardest, I hope.

I am a dabbler. You can see that I dabbled in blogging in 2007. I've also dabbled in guitar, dance, soccer, swimming, running, photography, knitting, crochet, yoga, gardening, bicycling, recycling, freecycling, motorcycling...and now I am back to blogging. It's cyclical, I guess you'd say.
I am back to blogging because I enjoy writing. I wrote an essay, which I posted to my facebook page, about a trip I took with my dad and grandmother. Pushing the "publish" button was a thrill. I can't explain why I was so excited about it. I knew the essay was poorly written and in need of some real editing. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it so much I wrote another essay that I entered into a contest. (A very, very small contest) I have since checked out three or four "How to write" books from the library, and done my internet research. It seems the first step to improving one's writing skills is to...write every day. I hope it works. I cook every day, and I'm no top chef.
I have now tasked myself to write daily. Will I publish daily? Probably not. Logistically, it would be impossible, I am not near a computer every single day... although there aren't many days when I am not. I certainly don't want this blog to turn into a list of my ailments, or a tribute to my daughter's achievements. I'm also pretty sure that I don't want this to turn into a blog about blogging.
Here then, is my short story contest entry.

Caller i.d.
by Kaycee


As a teenager, I was a master of the prank phone call. I had my own specialty call that I used to delight my friends at sleepovers and birthday parties. I had a special knack for staying in character and sounding grown-up and professional.
In most towns, kids use the phone book to pick random numbers to call. In Naselle, we used the phone book to choose exactly who we would call. Teachers were off-limits, as were the sweet old ladies who gave full size candy bars for Halloween. There were no strangers in Naselle. It was impossible to call someone that you didn't know without paying long-distance charges.
One evening, I got a little cocky. I'd called two or three folks who didn't hang up right away, or threaten to have the call traced. My friend T.J. dared me to call his grandmother, who was also my school bus driver. My mean, bossy, unhappy, intimidating bus driver, Mae. He dared me. I had no choice. I dialed the last four digits of her phone number- Naselle was so small that the first three digits were superfluous. My friends listened on the extension phone.
"Hello?"
"Yes, Hello, Ma'am. This is Donna at Land-O-Latex in Santa Anna, California. I am calling about an order we received for 12 Galactic Prophylactics." I spoke fast, and used a terrible accent.
"What's that?" She sounded mad, as if she was getting ready to tell someone to SIT DOWN.
"Ma'am, unfortunately, the agent who processed this order did not make note of the size that was ordered. What size Galactic Prophylactic would you like?"
"I don't know what this is about. I didn't order anything."
This is where people either hung up, or got hooked. I always kept the phone book handy so that I could read their address back to them.
"Ma'am, once again, I really apologize for any inconvenience, but the order has been paid for, and is ready to be shipped to P.O. box 48, in Naselle, Washington.... I just need to know what size Galactic Prophylactic you would like." I mispronounced "Naselle" for authenticity.
Mae laughed a little. "Is this for real?"
"Yes, of course, Ma'am. Small, Medium, or Large?"
"Large, I guess."
"Well, ma'am, you are certainly one lucky lady. We will get those 12 Galactic Prophylactics shipped out right away. Is there anything else I can help you with this evening? We have a full line of latex novelties."
"No, I think that's it."

I thanked her, hung up, and my friends and I had a good laugh at how gullible Mae had been. Congratulatory high fives were shared.

Monday morning, as I boarded the bus, I pretended to be looking for something in my bag so that I didn't have to acknowledge Mae. What if I cracked up? When I got to my seat, she caught my eye in the mirror and said, "Good Morning. Donna... is it?". I swear she winked.

I still like turtles.

Great News, Reader! (Who am I kidding?... Great News, my cousin Megan!)
I have returned to my blog. I'm excited to write.