Proof

. . . that we are a happy couple. Just in case you wondered. And the other love of my life . . . my 20 lb. mini brent

What is it with bald men? I can't get enough of 'em.

a note from our babysitter

We came home at 9 p.m. from our dinner date and found a quiet and VERY CLEAN house. . . and this note on the table. We had left for our date in a rush- dinner all over the table, dishes in the sink and I didn't even mention cleaning up.

I am posting this so I can remember this very good deed in the future. Sometimes those honery kids can be so sweet.

And Here's the payment:

Daddy's Doggybag of "All you can Eat Shrimp" leftovers

HMMM! Red Lobster for Breakfast. Kennon was right there too, but she is too old to be photographed with pasta spilling from her mouth. She better be. She is our babysitter.

Election is in 3 weeks, and I still don't know who I am voting for.

Brent's made up his mind last week. He is voting for . . . DA, da, da, DA. . . .Chuck Baldwin!

Ever heard of him or his Constitution Party?

I hadn't until my husband started raging against McCain for going along with the bailout. The bail out was the final straw for Brent.

He hasn't liked the republicans for years, but now for the first time he isn't going to vote for them. I used to think he was a crazy Bircher (john birch society member) and wished he wouldn't be so skeptical of Bush. I have really resisted his negativity concerning republican leadership. I grew up listening to el Rushy and it seems like he never wavers in his support and I wasn't going to either. ( I haven't listened to him at all lately so I don't know if that is still the case) But I slowly have had to admit Brent's been right all along. About the Iraq war definitely, but also about how democrats and republicans are pretty much the same nowadays.

Our girls were telling us tonight that they would be voting at school soon in Kid's Vote. Their Dad told them to cast their vote for Baldwin.

"Huh? We can't do that Dad!"

They say there are only 2 choices on their ballots and neither of them is a Baldwin. And why is he voting for him anyway, Savannah wanted to know. Does it have anything to do with the fact that his name is "Baldwin, Dad?"

We have had plenty of political discussions at the dinner table lately and this started another training session.

When I tucked her in tonight I asked Savannah who she's gonna vote for and she said, "Chuck Baldwin." Not too sure how she is going to do it, but it should be interesting.

And as for me, I have always thought it was so important to vote but I am so frustrated this election about my choices. Either way it seems like a wasted vote since neither is representing me at all. So I may as well waste it on Chuck.

But I was so mad at Ross Perot candidates back in '92. I personally blamed them for electing Clinton.

But then we had our 8 republican years and it clearly hasn't been anything like I had hoped for. I am not blaming the economy and the war all on Bush. But I am putting a lot of the blame on him for going along with it all. And All of the spending. That's where they are all the same. Something happens to the guys back in Washington. They get it in their heads that it is their job to take care of everyone. And so they steal all of our money to do it.

And they don't help any of us out at all. They actually do commercials here in NY to promote food stamps! What are all my fellow buffalonians on food stamps, free rent, heat and health care going to do when there is nothing left to help them anymore? We have trained the people to depend on the government like it is always going to be there for them. And someday it just may not.

And our church has repeatedly taught us to be self- sufficient. My Grandma Pieper is in Elder Packer's ward in SLC. I called her last night to check on her and we got talking about the state of affairs today and she whipped out the notes she had scribbled during his testimony two weeks ago.

Basically he warned them that now is the time to start following the prophet. Make sure you are prepared. He talked about living through the great depression and said that it is going to get worse than that. And many of us are so used to having everything we want and it ain't gonna be easy for those folks.

So stock up on that food storage. Even if you are going to be done with dental school in a 1 1/2 years and thought it was time to be using it up. I guess we carry our wheat, and rice around with us from state to state. Better to rent a larger Uhaul then take a chance on starving your kiddos.

And we can all find ways to stock up a little by cutting back on other things. . . Like walking right on by the Target clearance racks for starters. They are EVIL!

And also now is also the time to make sure our families are reading the scriptures and praying together everyday. We once had a family cheer we did after each morning devotional.

We put our hands together like a football team and screamed, "Not gonna miss a day! Yeah!"
It's CHEESY. . . but it was fun and it did help us to keep the habit. We better start it up again and stop missing here and there. Kennon might be past the family cheer stage.

During the latest General Conference session it seems to me that our prophet kept talking about first living and loving life today and secondly having hope and faith in tomorrow. Even in scary times there is always peace to be found in living the gospel.

Ok, so this is turning into a sermon but I really was due for some blogging after a 5 day break.

And Brent is too busy to chat lately due to lots of studying. And I've been staying home giving my bad leg and neck (that is the tight musle lately) a driving break AND I am starting to feel a bit chatty.

Can't wait till tomorrow is over and the big pharmacology test has passed. . . So Brent will stop telling me every 5 minutes that he is going to die on Thursday.

Oh, and also so I can use his computer to post some pics and stop boring all of you to death with pure essays lately.

THE very last "bad back" post

I am totally getting better. Now I wish that I wouldn't have blogged about "my poor back" because I do feel a little silly. I can get myself very worked up when I start having some little problem and think, "OK, this time it's Gonna Be the Big One." I have had SO MANY false alarms. And don't think I am not grateful that they have been. Brent has heard it all but continues putting up with my overreacting. Is it a woman thing or just a Kashann thing? I don't know.

One time last year I was on the phone talking to the bishop. Brent and I were both sitting in bed. I was the RSP then and it was a long conversation, but about nothing in particular. For some reason awhile into the conversation my chin started to quiver and I couldn't get it to stop. By the time I was wrapping the conversation up my whole face was stiff and quivering, if that makes sense.

I hung up and started describing my condition to Brent and finally realized that. . . this must be LOCKJAW. It seems like I could even remember a rusty nail in the basement a few weeks before that I had brushed up against. I rambled on about my lockjaw until I fell asleep a few minutes later. Of course in my sleep I had a complete recovery from this life threatening condition. I think it was just shivering that made me get stiff.

That's just a little example of the way my mind start racing when something feels a little weird.

So I am not too afraid to admit that I mighta kinda sorta created my own back problem. I got so tense once I started having just a little back pain. And I also tried to fix it by practicing ultra good posture. Even laying in bed I would concentrate on keeping my back completely straight. If anything was out of alignment I was going to fix it by forcing it back in. So before I knew it practically my whole body was KILLING me.

Stress, Stupidity, and Sciatica. That's what did it. My Dr. was nice and didn't exactly put it in those terms but after such a swift recovery I am thinking I got the whole thing diagnosed.

Unfortunately the Sciatica is not going away (Boo hoo!. . . all you prego women are thinking. Join the club!) but I think I can handle a little bit of pain. I'm pretty good coping with nagging pain, but not so good with nagging stress.

What about you? Hopefully you are smarter than me and your stress doesn't cause your pain.

Whew! nothing but chronic sciatica!

Or maybe just acute sciatica but isn't that so much better than a slipped or herniated disk?

Last night I went to the Dr. Stiff, Sore, and EMOTIONAL. I was ready for bad news.

After an examination his diagnosis was:

He was positive that there wasn't anything wrong with my disks. I have sciatica -irritated nerves (probably made worse by some extreme stretching in ballet) and this had resulted in the muscles tightening up in my back and neck.

So like Brent said, I really do need to RELAX.

He prescribed me some muscle relaxant . . . which I can't take, because I am nursing.

But let me tell you I have done a 180 since the diagnosis. I am embarrassed to admit that my health is so connected with my stress levels. But every time I thought about what was happening in my back I would cry, get stiff, and feel terrible. Now I know that nothing is happening in my back beyond the pain, I feel great.

And I am relaxing. Hopefully my new mental state is enough to begin the healing process since I can't take the prescription muscle relaxant.

I don't know what is going to get rid of the sciatica, though. I am really hoping this is a case of acute - not chronic sciatica. Because I really can't drive my van until this goes away. It kills!

Feeling my age

Not too many posts lately.

I can't sit for too long without being in pain.


Driving makes it way worse I find . . . so I also am staying home unless my chauffeur is available, and he usually isn't.

I am trying to stay positive in the midst of my first over 30 health problem. It started in my leg over a month ago. Mostly a mere annoyance as I kept trying to figure out why my foot was asleep or burning and why my leg was so uncomfortable. Then it cruised on up into my rear, and I realized this was just like the sciatica I have when I am pregnant. But then about a week after that my lower back got really tight and sore. Then my upper back neck and arm started killing. Brent keeps saying I need to relax but I am just way too tight to relax.

So far I have done lots of self medicating and diagnosing. Talked to all of my friends/experts. Some say heat, some ice, some exercises, and stretching. Others lay in bed and take it easy. Brent says don't bend over, but how am I supposed to do that when I have a baby cruising around at my feet?

Following all of these at the same time is not working. So tomorrow I am headed to the Dr. to find out what I need to be doing. (My chauffeur has another jewish holiday tommorow so he can take me) I am really worried because I know this is only the beginning. I have heard too many horror stories about the hard life ahead once you injure your back.

I know I needed more empathy for people with chronic pain and that's exactly what I am gaining in this process.

I think it was ballet class. I was trying so hard to move and bend like the best of them. Why didn't some one warn me?

Off he goes!

The little guy is now on the move! It is more like dragging then crawling, but he is all over the place. First tooth and crawling- What a week for Marcus!

Sausage for breakfast is a treat at our house. This morning was one of those lucky mornings. As the kids got up to leave afterwards, Brent noticed a sausage slice left on Camille's plate.

"Camille are you going to eat that?" he asks (as he's popping it in his mouth and chewing).

"No. There was a hair on it."

HA!

In Loving Memory (Of Brent's Hair)

Brent got an email last night. It was a complaint from his mother. She said,

"Please put the photo back on that we saw on your blog. We were really enjoying it and suddenly it was gone."

If you missed Brent's yearbook yourself photo, Sorry,. . . I guess you need to keep up a little better. :)

It was on here for 24 hours! (It was Brent's current face with a very big and bad doo. I thought it was hilarious at first, but then decided after blog surfing that I just couldn't take the hideousness of the front page of my blog anymore, and I hit the delete button on the whole post.)

Brent's mom really hates that her little boy has gone bald. A couple years after we were married it was getting so thin up top that we just bit the bullet and buzzed it all.

His mother was so disappointed in us. Every time she saw a fresh haircut she told him how ugly he looked. It was like she thought buzzing it was causing the baldness rather than the other way around -. . He's bald, so we are buzzing it. Like as if we hadn't been buzzing it he would have a lovely full head of hair! Or at least a good ol' man respectable comb over.


We used to not have our own set of clippers so we would always go up the hill to her house and cut hair in her utility room. One time while she was gone, we were there buzzing away. It had been way too long and I cut off tons of hair and left it all in her utility room trash.

Later that afternoon we heard her car pass by and head up the hill. About an hour later we heard her car come back down and stop outside our back door. The car was still running when Brent ran out to see what was up.

She was agitated, and wanted to know if we had seen any one's car going up to her house earlier that day.

"I think a Mexican has been up there inside the house," she insisted.

"What, in the house? Why's that, Mom? "

She reached in her purse and pulled out an envelope. It was filled with black hair.

She was driving around with the evidence searching for the culprit.

Brent laughed and told her it was his hair.

"No way Brent. It's way too dark and way too much for your head. Look at it!" shaking the envelope at him.

We finally calmed the old lady down enough to send her back up the hill.

Nice to know that you read our blog MamaJo. Hope you don't mind us bringing up this old story. I just remembered it after reading your email, and wanted to write it down so the memory wasn't lost.

AND Sorry I ruined your little boy's hair. He was pretty handsome till I came along. This ain't no yearbook yourself. It's the real deal from 1988.

Savannah always is saying she wants "a new look". So I cut her bangs, and she regretted that decision.

Last week she talked me into using some of my permanent hair dye on her for another new look. She loves it. She has refused to wash it the last 5 days because she doesn't want it to wash out.

Her teacher apparently was appalled. Savannah said she told her that she couldn't believe her mother let her dye her hair.

Kennon said the whole school was talking about it and all the girls in her class can't understand why Savannah can dye her hair but Kennon can't get her ears pierced. Whatever!

She has brown eyes, why not brown hair? It is permanent, but believe me it washes out so quickly.

She just needed something fun to get her through the bad bang months ahead.

Yeah for Marcus! . . .and Caroline

Caroline and I were visiting teaching yesterday. The nice old lady had cut up some Honey Crisp apples for us to enjoy while we visited. I was seriously enjoying her money well spent. I am used to choking down the garbage apples I can afford from Aldi's (A.K.A Oldi's).

I started breaking off tiny pieces and feeding them to my 6.5 month old Marcus. Caroline was talking to him and started hollering, "Mom, Marcus has a tooth!" I told her she was wrong and reached in and grabbed a little tooth size piece of apple to show her. In the process my finger brushed his lower gums and guess what?

By coincidence he actually does have his first tooth. It is all the way through. Caroline discovered it quite by accident.

And I can't figure it out because he has been his happiest ever the last 2-3 weeks and has completely stopped the crying that we put up with so much in earlier months. So much for TEETHING!

And he is also sitting, waving bye bye, doing push ups and scooting. He gets all over the room now, without actually crawling yet. I should be reporting that next week. AND this should probably all be in my bragging section. Sorry!

Marcus is so wonderful. It truly is a miracle that this mother of girls has a son.

Mopeds are dangerous. . and so is his latest craze - Wrestling

(Click on picture to see the bumper sticker. This car was right in front of us when we went through a toll last summer.)
Brent needs to be more careful.

Earlier in the month he was cruising his puch through the school parking lot and was hit by a car. They didn't exchange info. It was her fault but he assured her that he felt fine. Even his left shoulder that left a large dent in her car wasn't too sore. I am glad he was nice to her. It could've been me and I appreciate mercy when it comes to driving.

Then yesterday he was at wrestling practice. It's been over 20 years since he was one of the top dogs of the WA state high school meets so he is happy to be back on the mat. This is held after class and is just a bunch of guys that get all sweaty and bloody and hold each other down till they give you the signal. He tried it on me and it seems like the signal is -Three taps on your chest that mean, "Please, let go of my throat. I am about to pass out. "

So far our husbands have just come home dripping with lots of sweat and a little blood. But yesterday Brent popped his pinky finger out of it's socket. It was extremely out of joint and crazy looking, pointing straight back at the middle knuckle. He showed it to his wrestling buddy, then snapped it right back in and continued wrestling. A couple minutes later it dislocated again.

This morning it was swollen and purple. He might need to find some other way to burn off the calories. And he better take better care of those digits or he may lose his best client/patient.

Ballet

I have had way too many "Brent" posts lately so here is one that isn't.

Earlier I mentioned that I am trying to keep up with my oldest. So I play piano and help her with her math just enough so she won't get any better or smarter than me. Now I am taking it a step farther, or should I say one leap further.

I am taking ballet! My daughters' studio offers a family rate so once you pay so much for them it is only is only $10 more just for me.

The thing is I used to call myself a dancer. I wasn't a cougarette or anything but I've had years of lessons and several glory years on the high school drill/dance team.

But it's been almost 15 years since high school and over 20 since my last ballet class so walking into that studio last week dressed in ballerina clothes was an exhilarating moment. It was like I had just gone back a couple decades. Till I saw my full spandexed glory in the full length mirror and then all 32 years, and 5 kids came right back, of course.

But I wasn't too out of place. There were awesome ballerina figures, but also old wrinkly ladies and other slightly overweight mothers just like me. I made some dancer friends and plie'd, releve'd and fondu'd for a sweaty hour and a half. It is a serious workout and tons of fun. I am totally planning on regaining the strength, flexibility, and grace of my youth.

I would highly recommend adult ballet for all you frumpy mothers out there who want to do something just for yourself, like we used to do. My favorite part is when we are done with barre work and we all do leaps, kicks and dance across the floor. I am hooked.

AND Thank you Brent for the encouragement. He is the one who suggested I sign up for the class.

I trust you

Whenever Brent cuts or highlights my hair, he has a hard time keeping his negative thoughts to himself.

"Dang it!" "Oh no!" "What?"

All part of the free haircuts.

I never have a mirror handy to see what grave errors have been made, so I just sit there wondering why I take these risks. They all turn out pretty good in the end, though so I wish he would keep a lid on his frusterations. Brent is a perfectionist and also some what of a loud mouth and I have learned that this is just the way he works. So I try not to put much stock in his outbursts.

But that's color, scizzors, just hair. . . . nothing painful. What about drills and teeth?

Now I am officially his dental patient/guinea pig and I found out it is a pretty much the same thing. He was so happy to find 5 cavities in my mouth this fall. He could use the work and why not have a little date with the wifey at the same time?

We had one of those choice dates this morning. Once he got the rubber dam in place and the drill going, it wasn't long before I heard the first "Oh, No!" And then a couple "No Ways!" and even one"You got to be kidding me?".

And I hate not being permitted to talk! There are so many things that need to be said at the dentist. . . at least when it is Brent.

A couple weeks ago he worked on me and I had to go to the bathroom. I can't hold it for 3 hours! Every time I tried to tell him though he couldn't quite understand me. I finally ran off out the door with the rubber dam strapped on my face. When I saw myself in the bathroom mirror I felt like I was looking at Joker with my strapped on smile. He told me later that it would've been real simple to take off the frame and I could've just shoved the dam in my mouth if I just would've let him know.

I also really needed to communicate on hour 3 when the antiseptic wore off and I was jumping every time he blew that freezing cold air in my mouth.

So this time I was smarter and prepared. Before the rubber dam was in place I had a pen and paper on my lap. I started out scribbling things like "HURRY!" then before long "How much LONGER?" and a couple"OW!'s" and I got a second shot and made it through the appointment without the agony that I usually experience the last hour in the dental school. Everything takes SOOOOO long there because 1/2 the time you are sitting there waiting for an instructor to check and let you proceed and meanwhile my jaw is stuck open and time is ticking away and those shots don't last forever!

So I am a pretty lucky lady with a live in dentist/hairdresser. And he is the pretty lucky man with a wife willing to give him plenty of practice on his manual dexterity skills.

Everyone seems so suprised when they find out that Brent is actually my hairdresser. But no one bats an eye about me being brave enough to let him drill holes in my teeth??? I don't get it?

All in his own due time

Brent is so handy. . . But he hates to be nagged about his wife needing a handyman. He has to think of it and get started completely on his own. He does lots of stuff around here but HE HAS TO THINK OF IT, Dang it!

A few Saturdays ago I risked his anger and mentioned that I had a LIST for him. Just 3 little jobs that needed doing that Saturday. I hadn't given him a list all summer and I just lost my head for a minute and wrote these three little things down and passed it over to him.

Brent does not like honey do lists. Kennon overheard him telling me then, "I don't like to be told what to do." This in NOT something you should ever say in front of your children, for obvious reasons.

"OH REALLY, Well I don't like being told what to do either, DAD!"

A very good point, if you ask me.

Tonight I mentioned hanging some blinds twice and by some miracle he went in there muttering and started hanging them up in Kennon's room. By the time he was done, he was done muttering and more in the kind of mood I like to see around here. Completely on his own accord now, he continued checking off my mental list by first washing off the egg that has been on the side of our house since last Halloween when we got tricked since we left for a party and weren't there for treats, I guess. We were coming up on the one year anniversary and it seemed like the natural time to get around to it.

And Then he tipped our couch upside down and took it apart at the seams. A couple months ago he sat down and we all heard a snap. Ever since then we feel like we have half a couch since neither of us can stand to sit on that sunk-in section.

Brent can fix anything so I had hinted that he should just take a look inside and see what he could do. I also wanted it opened up for another reason. We made the mistake of getting a couch that has irremovable cushions. Not only that but it also has remote size gaps all along your back to swallow up all the remotes and anything else that gets left behind. I discovered the problem a couple months ago when something slipped out of my hands and disappeared. After I couldn't get it I reached my hands along the bottom and could feel tons of stuff down in there. . . A lot more than just crumbs. Things that felt like books, keys, remotes, brushes, barrettes and toys. I was able to recover a few trinkets with some great difficulty but had to give up reaching it all.
But now I hate wondering what I am sitting on.

Well he was able to repair the brake AND recover some lost items tonight. One of these was Kennon's cell phone.

With the exception of the mother and the 6 month old all the Casper's have a cell phone. Kennon keeps hers fully charged and sets it to ring so she can answer her "calls" every ten minutes, Especially when we are in public. We will be in a standing in Target checkout, and Kennon gets a call. She pulls it out of her purse, (she always is carrying her purse) and then carries on a complete conversation.

"Hi, . . . yeah, I am actually shopping at Target right now"

"Yeah"

"Okay, I think that should be just fine."

"Well I will call you back, Bye"

Kennon has always liked to play make believe but I think this is really carrying it a bit far. AND I sure hope that people don't judge me and think that this is for real when really it is just a . . .
TOY. No service!

But who needs minutes? It has ring tones . . . takes pictures AND video and of course VIDEO GAMES!

Caroline, Savannah, and Camille all have their own too. The best gifts for our girls ever and they were all free. When Brent got a new one he gave Kennon his old one, and then Brent's friend Dave Cundick, A.K.A the Orange Man, (Camille once asked us if the orange man was coming over. He has strawberry blond hair) felt pity on our other girls and donated three old but very sweet cellphones. I have been tripping over cell phone chargers ever since. That is just one more thing that we really don't have room for in this 200 square ft. living/dining/piano/family/ballet/gymnasium room.

But Kennon's is the only that is set to ring. About a month ago it all stopped and then she started complaining out loud all the time, "I can't find my charger anywhere" and then a dirty look would be thrown over my way. I am usually the guilty one when it comes to cleaning up clutter but she had to apologize when she found out I was innocent of both stealing the charger and the cellphone. Her girlfriend's mother called to let us know that she had found her cellphone charger plugged in at her house recently.

So the blinds are hung, the egg is scraped away, and the couch and the cellphone are back in business. Life is good.