tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46656740967425287012024-03-15T19:10:17.241-06:00Tyson PHusband, Father, News Producer, Writer, Traveler and Dreamer.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-736700421253876992017-07-01T00:35:00.000-06:002017-07-01T00:35:42.934-06:00Light at the End of the Long Dark TunnelMost of these thoughts are based on the notes from a talk I gave in May. I want to write frankly about a topic that I have become passionate about.<br />
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<b>"Life is beautiful"</b><br />
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In college I had a friend and roommate named Matt. He would get up every month in front of our Christian congregation and during a brief thought, he'd grab the pulpit with both hands, grin from ear to ear and beyond, and exclaim, "Brothers and sisters, life is beautiful". He did it when life was easy and when life was hard.<br />
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<b>"He Loves You No Matter What"</b><br />
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I will echo Matt's thought, "Life is beautiful". I think that often we have no clue just how much God loves us. He loves us when we are sick or healthy, when we are sad or happy. When we have good hair days and bad. When our clothes fit just right and even when they don't. He loves you no matter the language you speak, the clothes you wear or don't wear. Most importantly, He loves you the same when you keep his commandments or not. His love for you never changes. It is always there. Infinite. Eternal. Only equaled by our own divine potential.<br />
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<b>Life is a Test</b><br />
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Because of His eternal love He understands that life needs to be hard. This life is a grand test after all, to see where we want to end up. Ultimately, we will go where we are most comfortable, be it in the presence of God or far from it because no unclean thing can dwell in the presence of God.<br />
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So in this great test of ours is it any wonder that we experience trials? Job loss? Death? Bullying? Illnesses of the body. Illnesses of the mind. Illnesses of the heart.<br />
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It is of the illnesses of the mind and heart I want to address as clearly as I can.<br />
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<b>"You Don't Deserve This"</b><br />
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You don't deserve this. This is not some horrible punishment or curse that came upon you. God is not punishing you. He is purifying you. He loves you. Jesus Christ understands perfectly what you are going through, that Man of Sorrow, acquainted with Grief. He suffered all sin. He suffered all sorrow. He did what He did because Christ knew you would need him today. You would need someone to understand. So when you need someone to lean on, lean on Him.<br />
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<b>"There is Always Hope"</b><br />
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I am here to tell you that there is hope. There is always hope. I have seen miracles happen. What was once pain and darkness was lifted in a moment to become peace, and light. There is always hope. Recognize the miracles in your life. Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes God helps us weather the storm. We can't command God any more than an ant could compel us. And if your miracle seemingly never comes. Then endure it well. The Savior Himself asked for the bitter cup to be taken from Him, yet He partook. This may be your Gethsemane, your Golgotha, but it will end and peace will fill your heart again. <br />
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<b>Accept the Miracle You Need</b><br />
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If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or some other mental illness, get medical help. Who are you to say that medical advances in this field are not the very miracle that God has prepared for you? When Naaman, mighty man of valor, captain of the hosts of Syria, and leper, sought healing, the message came to bathe in the River Jordan. He almost didn't because of the simplicity of the task. After all, how could some great miracle happen by so simple a solution? Luckily for him he listened to a friend's advice. He went and bathed in the simple waters and received his mighty miracle.<br />
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So pray and plead for miracles but accept the medical help you need. It is a lie of the Devil that a mental illness means you are somehow broken, somehow less of a person. It is a lie of the Enemy of Life that you should be ashamed, that perhaps by getting some exercise, by reading a self-help book, by some forced smiles and positive thinking you will be alright. We can no more expect to cure depression with simple positive thinking than we can expect to cure cancer with the same. There is no shame in getting help. So do it. It may save your life.<br />
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If you had a broken leg, no one would expect you to run a marathon. If you have depression and anxiety, take off the plate the things that matter least so you have the health to handle the things that matter most. Then rest your body and your mind as best you may. There is a strong correlation between sleep and sanity.<br />
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<b>"Put On Your Own Oxygen Mask"</b><br />
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To those that may not be currently suffering from mental illness. I plead with you to have compassion on them. To those of you who may be the caregivers. I pray you will have patience.<br />
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This darkness of the mind heightens stress, negativity, and those suffering with such an illness may lash out at you in anger. They may lay the blame of all the troubles of the world at your very feet. I pray you are able to discern the truth, that they are sick and that you can make a difference. But before you can make a difference you need to, just like every flight attendant has ever said, "put on your own oxygen mask". Make sure you are doing what you need to to remain healthy of body and mind so when your loved one yells at you and so adeptly points out all your flaws, that you respond not with anger, but with humility and with love. It is always far more important that they know you love them than they know you are right. I pray God will strengthen your shoulders to bear the burdens placed upon them.<br />
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<b>"The Light Will Shine Again"</b><br />
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I know that there is a God, that He is our Heavenly Father, and that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ to suffer for all our sins and sorrow. I know that God is at all times our loving Father in Heaven. That He loves us no matter what. God will never give up on you.<br />
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I know there is always hope and that the long dark night of our trials will end. Death is not the end. The light will shine again in our lives and hearts.<br />
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I'm going to channel my inner Matt. "Brothers and Sisters, Life. Is. Beautiful." God lives. God loves you. Don't believe Satan's lies. Have hope. Have compassion. We can conquer this. Let's do it together. Because no matter how lost you may feel, we are never alone.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-55641265793433179272014-07-22T22:15:00.001-06:002014-07-22T22:15:04.931-06:00Confessions of An HG Husband: The Darkness Does Pass<b>I believe in Angels.</b><br />
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No, not the kind with wings that have super powers and fight demons with super powers. I believe in those awesome beings who do God's work, spread joy, peace, love, comfort and support upon the face of this earth. <br />
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<b>In the hour of need.</b><br />
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I've shared before how when my wife was pregnant with our daughter and had hyperemesis gavidarum the first time around I had H1N1 (swine flu, remember that?), my son had it and Carrie had HG. While on the way to the hospital, wondering how I was going to take care of everything an angel came to our rescue. Right then a woman from our church called my cell and asked if we needed anything. She took my son and cared for him so I could spend hours and hours in the hospital with Carrie. <br />
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That was just one of the tiny miracles I experienced during the pregnancy of our first daughter. During the pregnancy with our second daughter there have been many more miracles.<br />
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Meals have poured in. Frozen meals I can thaw and cook when I need something. Hot meals, chicken noodle soup, enchiladas, prime rib, chicken and rice casserole and more. We have had a neighbor clear the sidewalk with a shovel, we have had another clear the driveway with a snow blower. <br />
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There have been moments when I needed to try and get some sleep between Carrie's IV's, working graves and caring for kids. Angels without complaint or question gladly took my little Lydia so I could rest.<br />
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During the bitterly horrible pregnancy there were so many angels to lift us up. My Mom would take Lydia for the day and get Tyler out the door to school. Often she was in obvious pain but did it anyway. We later learned she had a condition that can be extremely painful when it flares up.<br />
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My Mother-in-law shouldered so much. She practically became the kids' mother during the worst of the hyperemesis. I look back now and I don't think I would have been able to mentally handle it all without the help of my two moms. For some people "I don't think I would have been able to handle it" is an expressive saying. For me, it was a harsh and cruel reality. Angels saved me.<br />
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What is an angel if not a messenger from the Divine? What better messenger than the one that lifts, strengthens those who are too weak to go it alone or comforts someone even though they can't fix the problem.<br />
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<b>The Brightest Star</b><br />
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During Christmas time the women's organization at my church asked if I would narrate a story for their Christmas party. Of course I would. I practiced and sob that I am, couldn't make it through the story without crying. It was so silly. It was just a little book. In the story an old man without a family travels to Bethlehem, he encounters Joseph and the pregnant Mary. He also can't find a room in an inn, he can't find food, he is cold and alone. Yet bit by bit, through the kindness and sacrifice of strangers, he is fed, comforted and eventually finds shelter in an already occupied manger. There he becomes one of the first to hold the Christ Child. I guess I wept because in some way I felt like that man. I knew where I was headed. I knew the journey would end but I couldn't do it on my own. I hated that I couldn't do it on my own. I felt like I should have been able to. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should have been able to handle it all just fine. But reality is harsh and it is wise to see our own limitations and reading that little story gave me hope. For me that silly little book and the story it told were a miracle. A message God needed me to hear and understand.<br />
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Somehow during that actual program I managed to read the story for the first time without crying. <br />
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<b>The Miracle of Prayer</b><br />
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Through the months that Carrie lay in bed suffering we felt lifted up by the love of others. I know that at one time there were people praying for us on at lest four continents. There is such a unifying power in such a prayer. I cannot prove anything tangible but I tell you I felt it and those prayers lifted me up. In those moments when Carrie would utter a whisper-plea to me, to anyone and to Heaven, "please, please, please" I found strength in knowing her pleas were not alone.<br />
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<b>The Miracle That Has Blessed Our Life</b><br />
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I don't get much sleep these days because our little princess thinks she should be up until 4AM. It's not hard to hold her close and count the blessings instead of sheep. She is beautiful. She is healthy. She is ours. <br />
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I've been thinking about this battle with HG. It could have killed my beautiful Carrie. But it didn't.<br />
<br />I love my Carrie for having the courage to survive HG again, for knowing what she faced and being willing to get pregnant again when we felt like there was one more princess waiting for us in heaven. <br />
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Someone asked me on my blog how my wife could put me through this. The question shocked me, but only because this is something we decided together, this is something we wanted together, this is something we survived together and this is something that has brought us closer. Closer to each other and closer to the incredible people around us.<br />
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We don't shy away from hard things just because they might be difficult. We do them because we knew our lives will be changed for the better, forever. Our baby Kate is living proof of that.<br />
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-30587385715189335082013-12-13T10:11:00.004-07:002013-12-13T10:13:16.683-07:00Confessions of a HG Husband: When Will This End?I call every week to get Carrie's order from our favorite take-out place. No, not chinese, pizza or anything else so tasty. I get drinks delivered. They come in 1 liter bags, 10 mL syringes and small vials filled with phenergram and vitamins. The pharmacist knows me by voice. She knows my bizarre sleeping schedule. I don't even know my sleeping schedule.<br />
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I go anywhere and do anything to help the love of my life feel better. Target. Walmart. Cafe Rio. Jamba Juice. Kneaders. Pizza. Indian Food. Make a shepherds pie. Go to that other grocery store. Pickles. A specific kind of ice cream. That store doesn't sell the yogurt she likes, go to the other store. I'm not complaining, not at all, because as least she is eating, at least she is drinking, at least the retching is mostly over.<br />
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She's doing okay. By okay I mean, she's not throwing up, she's not asking to be put out of her misery. She talks, sometimes we even chat. She had a rough week though. There were a few days when she refused to eat, "I just want to feel better". <br />
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Sunday mornings have to be the worst part of the week. I try to get my Carrie medicine, get the kids fed and dressed and myself at least decently dressed all before church starts. There was this one Sunday the kids didn't fight, they didn't destroy their rooms in the few minutes it took to give Carrie her medicine and they didn't dump breakfast out all over the kitchen. Tyler got himself dressed. Lydia didn't argue about the cloths I put on her and I somehow had a clean, unwrinkled white shirt. We were only 2 minutes late. I was saying prayers of gratitude the rest of the day.<br />
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She wanted to be well by Thanksgiving. She wasn't. She wanted to go to Thanksgiving dinner with us. She wasn't well enough. Instead, I gave her medicine, I got the kids ready, and left my beautiful, pregnant wife home alone on Thanksgiving. I bought a turkey. I offered to make it for her. She said no. It is still sitting in the deep freezer. I ditched her and brought her left-overs. I'm a real prince aren't I?<br />
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Like I said, Carrie was hoping to be well by Thanksgiving, I was thinking more along the lines of Christmas or New Years. The reality is, we have NO IDEA. The only sure thing is that it will at least end sometime around May because that is when baby is due. <br />
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Seriously, when will this end?Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-2778699714043947642013-10-15T20:33:00.000-06:002013-10-15T20:36:32.850-06:00Bottoms Up: Confessions of an HG Husband<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Home from work. I've been up since 5PM the day before. I give my children hugs and kisses. Tyler leaves for school minutes later. Lydia goes with her Grandma. I start Carrie's morning IV. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I mix phenergan with saline in a syringe. Push 10 ml of saline solution through her PICC. Now the phenergan for the next 5 minutes. I go slow. Careful. It's over. Time for 10 ml more of saline. Then the IV. I make her food. I eat. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I wait. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>10:00 AM</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I check her IV. Half has drained into her body. She's cold. I cover her with more blankets and kiss her softly. She closes her eyes. I wait. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>10:30 AM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I check her IV. Is it finished? Almost. I wait and watch. She is sleeping now. She's not in pain. She's not nauseous. She's peaceful. It will come back when she wakes up. The IV is finished. I clamp her PICC and unscrew the IV tubing. I wipe down the end of the PICC with alcohol. I push more saline and heparin now. I try not to wake her, to let her sleep, to let her be peaceful. I fail. She sits up. She throws up. She doesn't want me near. She doesn't want me to hold her hair. She doesn't want me to be grossed out. I leave the room. I try not to think about all the things I can't do. I distract myself. Food? Cleaning up the IV and medicine? Reading through material "try this if you have morning sickness". She's finished. I return to help her sleep. I try to get her food. I know she needs her energy. I make plates, syran wrap them so they keep and save. I ask if she needs anything. She lays down. I tuck her in. I leave her alone so I can sleep.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>10:45 AM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I lay down. A couch, Tyler's bed, the floor. It doesn't matter. I sleep.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm awake. Carrie's still sleeping. I get ready. The kids are coming. Tyler from school, Lydia from grandma's house. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>2:00 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The kids are home. I give Carrie medicine. I push more saline. I push more phenergan. Again I go slow, careful. Push, 1.. 2... 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. 7.. 8.. 9.. 10... push. Just a little at a time. More saline and more heparin, more questions of "can I get you anything?" The medicine makes her loopy. The medicine makes her drowsy. She sleeps. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>3:00 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I take the kids to the park. They are happy to run around. They are happy to get out. I take my camera. Carrie will want to see this. Lydia runs. She falls down. She calls for me and I scoop her up. I kiss it better. She smiles. She wants a drink. Tyler runs straight for the merry-go-round. He hops on. It goes fast. He lifts his legs up and starts to fly. Lydia wants to swing. "Higher Dada." Tyler runs around. His arms are out. I know he is an airplane. He runs so fast. He goes back to the merry-go-round. "Faster," he calls. Lydia is done with the swing. "Help me Dada". I lift her up so she can go down the slide. Again. Again. Two more times. She explores. Tyler spins in circles. I capture what I can with my camera. Carrie will want to see this. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>4:30 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">It's time to go. I chase the kids. I warn the kids. I hug the kids. They come. Lydia holds my hand. Tyler asks questions about everything. I answer. He asks more things. We see a quinceanera party. Lydia asks, "Dada, is she a </span></span><i style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">princess</i><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">?" Yes. I ask he if she knows who my princess is. "Lydia is and mama is." I smile and she squeezes me tight. "You are a prince Dada!" She says it with such excitement. Tyler has a stick. He swings it. "It sounds like a whip Dada." He's right. "Do you know I like sticks Dada?" I do but we have to leave the stick at the park so other kids can play with it. I take them to Pace's and order them small slushes. They both order Tiger's Blood. Tyler because he likes it and Lydia because Tyler ordered it. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">We're home. Carrie is still asleep. I make the kids PBJ's. It's what they wanted. I make them eat their sandwiches before they can drink their slushes. We chat. I learn about school. I learn about recess. "And Dada did you know I can run SO FAST?" Wow Lydia. They finish. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>6:00 PM</b></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">They're tired. I bathe them. I dry them off. I brush Lydia's hair. I help them brush their teeth. I trim their fingernails. I pray with them. I read them stories. They snuggle on my lap. They love me. I scoop up Lydia. I rock her. I sing to her. I lay her down. "Dada, did you know I love you SO much!" I love you so much Lydia. I turn on Dada's songs for her, close the door and leave. "Wait Dada, blow me a kiss." I do. She catches it and rubs it in. She blows me a kiss. "Catch it." "Rub it in." I smile and obey. I close the door. I talk with Tyler. He has a lot more to say. I give him a hug. I kiss his forehead. I tuck him in. I turn on "Tyler The Wizard Boy Stories". I open the door just right. I turn on the correct lights. I tell him I love him. He loves me too. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><b>6:30 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I check on Carrie. She needs something to eat. "What would you like?" She makes a face. I bring her food. A creamie, yogurt, my mom's homemade mac'n'cheese. She eats. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><b>7:00 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Both kids are asleep. They were tired. I leave to go shopping. Milk. Eggs. Juice. Where is the Unisom? Carrie texts. She wants a jamba juice. Mango a go go. I'm relieved. She wants food. I rent a redbox. An action movie. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><b>8:30 PM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I'm home with her jamba juice. I get her evening IV read. Open the needled syringe, draw out the first mutli-vitamin. Draw out the second multi-vitamin. Push it into the IV bag. Draw out the phenergan. Shake. Push saline. Push phenergan. Again I go slow. Again I count. Five minutes. More saline. I connect the IV bag. I fold laundry. I wait.</span></span><br />
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<b style="color: #2f393a; font-size: small; line-height: 18px;">11:00 PM</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">The IV is finished. I push more saline and more heparin into her PICC. She sleeps. I cook a frozen meal a neighbor brought over. I eat. I sit to watch my movie. I blink. I missed much of the movie. I'll finish it some other time. I blink again and fall asleep. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><b>12:30 AM</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I wake up. I crawl into bed. Tyler's bed. He is sleeping on the "little matress". We're having a "sleep over". He's still asleep. I turn my phone up so I can hear if Carrie calls. She calls if she needs me. She doesn't call.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><b>Sometime in the night</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Tyler wakes me up. He needs to go to the bathroom. He goes to the bathroom. I tuck him in. I kiss his forehead. We go back to sleep.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I Try.</b></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">I often fail. I'm not perfect. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">If you are the one afflicted or a caregiver to such, try not to be overwhelmed with the size of your task. Don’t assume you can fix everything, but fix what you can. If those are only small victories, be grateful for them and be patient. Dozens of times in the scriptures, the Lord commands someone to “stand still” or “be still”—and wait.</span><sup class="noteMarker" noteref="6" style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#6-10791_000_27holland" style="border: 0px; color: #486fae; font-size: 9px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">6</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Patiently enduring some things is part of our mortal education."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">"</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For caregivers, in your devoted effort to assist with another’s health, do not destroy your own. In all these things be wise. Do not run faster than you have strength.</span><sup class="noteMarker" noteref="7" style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#7-10791_000_27holland" style="border: 0px; color: #486fae; font-size: 9px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">7</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> Whatever else you may or may not be able to provide, you can offer your prayers and you can give “love unfeigned.”</span><sup class="noteMarker" noteref="8" style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#8-10791_000_27holland" style="border: 0px; color: #486fae; font-size: 9px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">8</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; … [it] beareth all things, … hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity </span><i style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">never</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> faileth.”</span><sup class="noteMarker" noteref="9" style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#9-10791_000_27holland" style="border: 0px; color: #486fae; font-size: 9px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">9</a> </sup></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I Pray. I Plead. I Drink It Up.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"Hope is </span><i style="border: 0px; color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">never</i><span style="color: #2f393a; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> lost. If those miracles do not come soon or fully or seemingly at all, remember the Savior’s own anguished example: if the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead." - <a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#watch=video" target="_blank">Elder Jeffrey R. Holland</a> </span></span></span><br />
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-83505986343544165402013-10-06T17:06:00.001-06:002013-10-06T17:06:20.147-06:00How am I doing? Confessions of a HG Husband<strong>Simple Request</strong><br />
<br />
Read to the end, it's long, I know but just do. In case you haven't heard Carrie is pregnant and she has hyperemesis gravidarum. I explained what that is in a previous <a href="http://tysonp.blogspot.com/2013/09/confessions-of-hg-husband-hyperemesis.html" target="_blank">post</a>.<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>How are you doing?</strong><br />
<br />
Short answer: I'm fine.<br />
<br />
<strong>You Wanted the Long Answer?</strong><br />
<br />
It doesn't make sense to me. All I have to do is work graves, give Carrie her medicine and take care of her as well as take care of the kids in the evening and put them into bed. It shouldn't be that difficult. So why is it? <br />
<br />
<strong>This Week</strong><br />
<br />
This week I would get home at about 8:20, see Tyler for a few minutes before he catches the bus, spend a few minutes with Lydia and then watch her leave with one of her two blessed grandmas. I'd then get the AM IV going and try to sleep a bit before waking up a few hours later to finish the IV. I'd then try to get some more sleep before 5PM. The kids then come home and I feed them, spend a little time with them, bathe them and put them to bed. Then I do the evening IV and try to get some sleep. As soon as the evening IV is done, I leave for work. The longest stretch I slept was for four sweet hours. When I do sleep I'm not sleeping very well. It is like I never fully get to sleep anymore. Usually I can fall asleep in 5 seconds flat now it feels like 5 hours flat which isn't good considering how frequently I have to wake up.<br />
<br />
<strong>Grateful and Guilty</strong><br />
<br />
It's hard dropping my kids off with my parents or my in-laws. Not because they won't be loved and well taken care of, but because I should be able to take care of them. I'm a grown man. They're my kids. I should be the one breaking up the fights, playing with them, doing homework with them, greeting them as they get home from school, taking them to dance and putting them down for naps. But I'm not. For that I feel so grateful and yet still so guilty.<br />
<br />
<strong>Why am I so Overwhelmed?</strong><br />
<br />
I only have two kids. I only have one job. I only have one wife. There's the cat and she can be a little much, always wanting me to pet her, smashing her face into my leg, wanting to be fed twice a day. <br />
<br />
I even withdrew from school for a little while so I don't have that to worry about. The grandmas take the kids during the day and sometimes longer. I've even gotten help from friends. Even more friends are helping to feed our family. Seriously we've had some wonderful meals delivered by even more wonderful people. So why am I so overwhelmed?<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>My Flip Flops Don't Match</strong><br />
<br />
I was spending some time with Lydia when she kindly pointed out my flip flops didn't match. It was painfully obvious even to a 3 year old and I only noticed when she pointed it out. Sure enough I had on one bright blue one and one brown one. <br />
<br />
I did laundry. Sort of. I put it in the washer. I put it in the dryer. It is now sitting in the cloths bin. I've been meaning to fold it since Tuesday (it is now technically Sunday). I don't want anyone else to do it because I can do it.<br />
<br />
People may see my house and think it is a disaster but I am doing the best I can and you know what, if cycling the laundry through and leaving it unfolded in a basket for the next month is how I do laundry, people are just going to have to get over it.<br />
<br />
I vacuumed too. You can't tell now because while I was doing a morning IV the kids decided they wanted to crumble frosted mini wheat all over the rug.<br />
<br />
I washed down the table but only because Lydia spilled the flower vase and Tyler spilled a VERY full glass of milk. <br />
<br />
<strong>A Dark Place</strong><br />
<br />
I debated sharing this and only do it because maybe it will help someone. There was a night when I was trying to get a major project done for a macro economics class. I had to go to work in a few hours. Carrie looked like she was dying and needed to go to the emergency room. And did I mention my grandma had just died? I needed to do it all. I couldn't give up on my dream. I couldn't leave my wife. I had to go to work. This project needed to get done and I wasn't understanding it and would need to spend several more hours before I did understand it. I was so tired. I had slept for about six hours total the previous two days. I had to hyper focus, I had to compartmentalize. I had to check the boxes but there were too many boxes. I needed five minutes to just breathe but I didn't have five minutes. I didn't have five seconds. <br />
<br />
I panicked.<br />
I could not think.<br />
I could not act.<br />
I was shutting down in body and in mind.<br />
I prayed.<br />
I acted.<br />
I made a decision.<br />
I put my dream on hold.<br />
<br />
I will not graduate as early as I had hoped but I will still earn an MBA. For now all I can handle are Faith, Family and Work and I barely handle that. It felt like I was giving up, like I was a quitter, like everyone would look at me and think "there's the guy that couldn't handle it just because his wife got sick". Still I have made my decision. I will finish school but for now the plan has changed.<br />
<br />
<strong>Whispers of Thought</strong><br />
<br />
I was upstairs trying to sleep on my couch when I got the thought: check on Carrie. So I did. She needed me. She needed my help. I don't remember with what but that is because this is not a singular experience. "Check on Carrie" has come into my mind on numerous occasions over the past several days. Each time there is a reason. Each time she had needed something. I tell you that there is a God and he knows what we need. There is no other explanation for it.<br />
<br />
<strong>Help Me, Help Me</strong><br />
<br />
As I mentioned <a href="http://tysonp.blogspot.com/2013/10/how-is-she-doing-confessions-of.html" target="_blank">before</a>, Carrie frequently says "help me, help me". She's not necessarily talking to me.<br />
<br />
Friday night at 7:00 I checked Carrie's phone (btw don't call her, call me). There was a message from the pharmacist to call by 6pm if we needed more IV supplies. We did. It was too late. The on call nurse called Saturday, I asked for more supplies which got a process rolling. The pharmacist called me and said they tried to call Friday, now she has to pull in 3 people on a Saturday. They left a message even. I explained Carrie doesn't talk on the phone right now, I asked her to call my phone from now on. The pharmacist asked me about what supplies I needed and as I talked with this woman she softened. Have you tried this? This? This? She spent half an hour on the phone with me. That wonderful woman then called our doctor and arranged some changes. She called and texted several more times. "I just thought of this, you should try this..." She was on call and went in to work, spending 4 hours getting Carrie's medicine ready. She later texted me and wrote, "If she would have called yesterday none of this would have happened in the madness of Friday, so I am glad it worked out, and hope she feels better soon." It hasn't been very long but already it seems to be helping a little. <br />
<br />
<strong>The Divinity Within Us</strong><br />
<br />
People have brought meals. They've watched Lydia, made her feel like a princess, an artist and a super hero. They've picked Tyler up from school, done homework with him. There are so many people who have offered to help. Who have asked for ways they can help, that it is impossible not to see the hand of God in this. I pray He blesses you wonderful, beautiful people. You are our angels.<br />
<br />
<strong>Little Angels</strong><br />
<br />
Tyler and Lydia over the last few days have provided me a gift. Tyler put Mr. Potato heads on a stuffed animal and brought it to me. He made funny voices and so I scooped him up and snuggled him. "There, now you can smile again Dada." He has done this a few more times. So had Lydia. Same glasses, different stuffed animal and an incredible amount of love. This is why we are doing this.<br />
<br />
<strong>Lift up, With Wings of Eagles</strong><br />
<br />
In my moments of desperation I have turned to the Lord again and again. He truly does hear me. Not always does he solve the problems before me, sometimes he takes the burden away and sometimes he makes me stronger so I can more easily shoulder the weight. To have my heart feel light, to feel the surge that it can be done, to have clarity of thought is a great gift that God gives to His children. I have experienced that lifting up. Critics of religion call faith a crutch that allows people to hobble through their adversity in life. They have it wrong. My faith is a set of wings that allows me to rise up and be better than I can be on my own.<br />
<br />
I pray you may feel God's love for you as I have.<br />
<br />
<strong>Long Answer Short</strong> <br />
<br />
Life is a trial, it was meant to be, but we have our family, we have our faith and we are so, so very blessed.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-11207166829867815202013-10-06T00:16:00.001-06:002013-10-06T00:16:11.580-06:00How Is She Doing? Confessions of an Hyperemesis Gravidarum Husband<strong>It's a Vein, Not a Goldmine.</strong><br />
<br />
How is Carrie doing? The same. As in not well. She is now getting IV's. Which on the one hand means she is at least getting fluid on the other hand it means she is getting poked. A lot. 4 times for one IV. And they dig. Carrie cries. I hate seeing her in that much pain. <br />
<br />
<strong>20 Minutes</strong><br />
<br />
She eats very little and when she does eat, she throws up. Sometimes she throws up even when she doesn't eat. Our goal is 20 minutes. If we can just keep something in her tummy for 20 minutes then at least she will get SOME nutrients. <br />
<br />
<strong>What Can She Eat?</strong><br />
<br />
Popsicles, yogurt, apples, mashed potatoes, soup, and bread are among the things she has thrown up. She can eat pretty much anything. She just throws it up after eating it. I am supposed to meat with a nutritionist next week. Maybe that will help. I'll try anything.<br />
<br />
<strong>Is she taking medicine?</strong><br />
<br />
Within the last day we have effectively tripled her anti-nausea medication. Maybe it will help. At the very least the extra dosages of Phenergan will make her sleepy enough she might not notice how nauseous she is.<br />
<br />
Every morning I give her a bag of IV's along with various medications I shoot into her arm. It takes about 15 minutes. I then wait two to four hours for the IV bag to finish draining into her body. Then I unhook the IV and shoot some more medicine into her arm. Then I repeat the process at night before going to work. Now we will add a third medicine time without the IV bag. <br />
<br />
<strong>Is She Able to Get Up and Around?</strong><br />
<br />
Today the pharmacist and the nurse warned me not to let Carrie drive. I laughed to myself. Not the funny jovial laugh but more of a macabre laugh. Carrie can barely walk 10 feet to the bathroom. One day she was missing the kids. She got herself out of bed. Walked up the stairs. Went up some more stairs to see if Tyler was home from school. She pretty much collapsed in his bed. I bring the kids to her now. <br />
<br />
<strong>Okay, but How Is She Doing?</strong><br />
<br />
This is hard on her. She frequently asks, "Why did we do this again?" She says repeatedly, "help me" which is both a weak whisper for help and a well practiced prayer. There's not much I can do for her. I can't take away the pain. I can't make time go faster. I can't bring her things to eat she can keep down. She is hungry but doesn't keep food down and gags on anything more than a few teaspoons. <br />
<br />
May 15th feels like an eternity.<br />
<br />
Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-36137847889946260432013-09-21T23:41:00.000-06:002013-09-22T00:46:46.649-06:00Confessions of a HG Husband: Hyperemesis Gravidarum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong>Carrie is pregnant.</strong> <br />
<br />
Baby #3 is coming this Spring. I should have made more calls than I did but given the circumstances I hope you will forgive me. <br />
<br />
I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I am super excited, worried, stressed, concerned, overwhelmed and lost. We've been here <a href="http://plastowplanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/october-glad-youre-over.html" target="_blank">before</a>. When Carrie was pregnant with Tyler she was so sick. She threw up several times a day. Her doctor prescribed some medicine that was supposed to help. She was on a combination of Zofran and Phenergan(sp?). <br />
<br />
It was hard on her but we made it through. We didn't get pregnant as quickly as we would have because of the "morning sickness". Still as time passed we began to think, who knows, maybe it wouldn't be so bad the next time. Maybe it just happened that one time, we thought. We were wrong. So wrong.<br />
<br />
During Carrie's pregnancy with Lydia we learned her sickness has a name. Hyperemesis gravidarum. Doctors will tell you it is severe to extreme morning sickness, that it is brought on by the production of the hormone "human chorionic gonadotropin" which is released by the placenta. In other words, "Congratulations because you're pregnant! Sorry you don't feel so well".<br />
<br />
<strong>Here's what Hyperemesis really means:</strong><br />
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It means making trips to the emergency room or urgent care because your wife is not eating and when she eats, she throws up. She is not drinking. When she drinks anything, she throws up. Since she is not drinking and what she does drink gets thrown up, she gets dehydrated. The dehydration leads to more trips to the hospital. It means watching the woman you love sleep as much as she can not because she's lazy but because when she's asleep she's not in pain. Hyperemesis means her entire body aches and there is nothing you can do about it. It means that you will at least once hear her say "I just want to die." And when I say once, I mean once a day. Most of the time she may just look at you, too in pain, too weakened by the ordeal that she wants it all over with and it hurts to see her like that because there is nothing you can do. Then what do you do? You leave her, alone, in her bed with the lights out because you have to go to work, you have to take care of your kids, you have to go to school or take a test. Yeah, that's what hyperemesis gravidarum really means.<br />
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Hyperemesis means you will get suggestions from friends, acquaintances, family members and anyone else. Did you try saltine crackers? Yes, we tried saltine crackers. In fact I smashed them up so small they were barely even crumbs and then I'd feed them to her one by one. Any bigger and they'd come right back up. Even then there were no guarantees. Did you try this great drug, it's called Zofran or Reglan or Phenergan. A drug? You mean there is medicine she can take that will help? Of course we know about that. During the last pregnancy I had a precise schedule set out for Carrie, she was on all three. Did it help? Um, no. Not really. I mean maybe it did. Maybe she would have been even worse but that's not something I can really wrap my head around because I saw how bad she was. <br />
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Hyperemesis means calling doctor after doctor, tracking down nurse after nurse. They would try to give her IVs to give her liquid. I'd pray they'd be able to find a vein. Once she was poked 4 times and they finally found a vein after DIGGING AROUND. I still can picture the tears on her face. <br />
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<strong>If hyperemesis is severe morning sickness, the plague is a severe cold.</strong><br />
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She had a picc line because I was tired of the nurses trying to poke her. We made half a dozen trips to urgent care or the emergency room in two weeks. So hyperemesis means changing IV bags in a process that could take between six and nine hours just to keep her hydrated. At least that worked.<br />
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Maybe you're like I was, you hear about someone having "severe or extreme" morning sickness and you think, oh, buck up, you'll be okay. I was so, so, so very wrong. You have to understand these are the same medicines they prescribe to patients undergoing chemo. Chemicals are killing things in their body and they give them this stuff to make them feel better, and it didn't really help Carrie. We're not talking about throwing up 14 times during a pregnancy, we're talking about throwing up 14 times A DAY! People smile and think, "you'll live". It's true, there is a VERY small chance of someone dying from HG. Yet most people never understand. <br />
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<strong>To the hyperemesis mothers.</strong><br />
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You are brave. You are amazing and you are warriors. I am so glad we have our little Lydia now. I hope you are blessed as we have been. Carrie and I always say, "Everyone needs a Lydia." My 6 year old son, while I was putting Lydia down, ran downstairs to help Carrie while she was throwing up. Every mother needs a Tyler.<br />
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I honestly feel for you. I weep for you. You mothers have to be so brave already during pregnancy and to have such a disease compounded upon everything else is not fair in any way. I pray for you. I hope you have help, a wonderful husband a supportive extended family, friends you can rely on and who will drop everything to come to your aid and children who are adoring and understanding in every possible way. That is the only thing that got us through it and honestly there were times when I wasn't sure Carrie was going to make it. I'm no doctor so please go talk to your doctor but seriously consider a PICC line, frequent IV's, small easily digestible foods, following a strict and frequent snack schedule, telling your husband he is never allowed to cook anything beyond opening up a package of bread, demanding being treated like a queen (with jewels) every Mother's Day and taking whatever medication a doctor may recommend. If your husband doesn't believe me about the cooking let him know that I am banned from ever having buffalo wings in my house. I made the mistake of cooking them early on during Carrie's pregnancy, now they always make her nauseous. <br />
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<strong>Medication Tip:</strong><br />
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Your Rx drugs can get expensive, you may have to buy a lot of them. Don't just call your favorite pharmacy. Call around. Ask for the cash price of your medications. You will be surprised at how much they vary, in some cases by as much as 60%. <a href="http://phoenix.about.com/cs/health/a/prescdrugs01.htm" target="_blank">True story.</a> In our own experience one pharmacy sold the prescription for less than the co-pay at another pharmacy. <br />
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Congratulations on your pregnancy. May God bless you and help you and your family through this trial. I'm praying He helps us through ours.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com291tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-85763672125175161962013-03-26T10:15:00.000-06:002013-03-26T10:15:48.079-06:00Grilled Triptip<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2gG6Cc2mz7c/UVHGQbNJYOI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gROIa_yPyYg/s1600/IMG_0184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2gG6Cc2mz7c/UVHGQbNJYOI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gROIa_yPyYg/s320/IMG_0184.JPG" width="320" /></a>Marinade:<br />
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4 T of Worchester Sauce<br />
2 T of Red wine vineger<br />
2 T Ground mustard<br />
1 tsp Salt<br />
1 tsp Beef Bouillon granules <br />
1 tsp Chili Powder<br />
1 tsp Garlic Powder<br />
1 tsp Onion Powder<br />
1 tsp Ground cumin<br />
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Mix up the marinade. It makes sort of a liquid mud type concoction. Get messy. Pour it and rub it on your meat. You should cover that baby like the naked piece of meat it is. Pour the rest over the triptip. Put it in a bag or otherwise sealable container and pop it in the fridge.<br />
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Let it marinate for at least 6 hours (I prefer letting it sit overnight before grilling)<br />
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When you are ready to cook it up, let it sit out for an hour at room temperature. <br />
Preheat your grill to about 300 degrees farenheit.<br />
Sprinkle both sides of the tritip with Montreal seasoning. Put it on the grill over indirect heat, you wouldn't want to burn it.<br />
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Grill over indirect heat for 30 minutes. Flip and grill another 15 minutes.<br />
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Now for the best part: EAT IT UP!!<br />
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-58025184960098309432013-03-16T21:09:00.001-06:002013-03-16T21:12:21.973-06:00Tender Mercies19 years ago today my baby brother Tanner was born. It was an exciting time. I remember his bith the most out of my siblings because I was so much older than him. We shared a room. When he'd cry during church I'd take him out in the hall and hold him until he fell asleep in my arms. He didn't learn to say a lot before he died but he did start calling me Titan. I didn't correct him. I'd lay in bed reading, he'd come in, climb up on my bed, bound up and down on my stomach and then leave. Five minutes later he'd do it again.<br />
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Earlier this month I visited a Phoenix area hospital. My sister-in-law was pregnant at the time with my newest nephew. There were complications so she was on bed-red and under the watchful care of specialized doctors. My little miracle of a nephew, Caleb, was born not too long ago. <br />
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As I stood in the hospital my mom mentioned that it was the same hospital, possibly the same floor where Tanner had died. It brought back the memory of it. I never doubted that God had the power to save Tanner from death. I prayed for the faith to accept His will. Perhaps for the first time, without saying the words, my prayer fell along the lines of "Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief."<br />
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I remembered, and my mom mentioned this so perhaps the Spirit was working similar thoughts on both of us. I remembered how for my Eagle Scout project I helped organize a gymn full of people and together we made hundreds of quilts. Those quilts went to provide some measure of comfort to grieving families struggling as they watched their sick little ones fight for their lives. I didn't make the delivery but in a beautiful tender mercy, there in that place of life and death, I felt the grattitude of those families and of the little children that God had called home.<br />
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During that trip I learned from my younger brother Dustin the "rest of the story" about a family I had home taught. My companion was in the bishopric and we spent hours every month talking and teaching this family. They were awesome. I learned so much from them. That sister is part of the reason why I love traveling. The rest of the story: the son, who was a few years younger than me, served an honorable mission. He was sealed in the temple and was still good friends with Dustin. Somehow I had played a small role in that.<br />
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There was a family I hometaught. I didn't really visit them for very long in the grand scheme of things but I sure love them. I will always feel a strong connection with them. It has now been years since we moved out of that congregation. Yet my wife recently received a facebook message from our friend. Their children still talk about some of the things I shared while I visited with them. <br />
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There are eternal bonds of friendship that are formed through shared sacrifice, spiritual experience and Christlike love. God teaches us that the same relationships we form in this life continue with us after death and our resurrection. In many ways, I can't wait for that joyous reunion when time and distance no longer seperate me from my loved ones.<br />
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I remember two singular moments growing up. One, when I was a Freshman in High School, the homecoming king, captain of the football team and all around awesome guy made me feel like I belonged. He went out of his way, he remembered my name and he brought me in. The other, another older teen I looked up to treated me like an equal, like I mattered, like I was important. Those small moments were such tender mercies to me. I have tried to pattern my life after their example. I have tried to see the good in others, even when it took a while to spot it. I am not perfect, far from it. Yet I declare without hesitation that there is so much that is good and right and beautiful in this world.<br />
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I declare with Nephi, with Elder Bednar and with many others, that the tender mercies of the Lord truly are over all those whom He has chosen through their faith. <br />
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I learned a beautiful lesson. The day after my 17th birthday I prayed and asked to say goodbye to my brother. I felt I had never gotten the chance. The answer was no. I learned a powerful lesson that day and the Spirit has seared it upon my soul. Families are forever. Have no fear, don't you cry. No need to say goodbye. Don't you know the ones you love will always be nearby.<br />
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I share with you my knowledge the God lives. Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of the world. If we will look to God, we will live. I know this because the Spirit has whispered to my soul of its truthfulness. <br />
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I pray that whoever reads this may find the faith to allow God to bless their lives forever.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-1927835200388087002013-01-20T13:40:00.001-07:002013-01-20T13:40:12.103-07:00SOOC Photos: Snow and TrainThe world seems so much more peaceful when it snows. Stay away from the chaos on the roads and there is something so comforting about a soft snowfall. <br />
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When I took these pictures it was 10:30 at night. I was waiting to catch the commuter train to work. I love how there is so much light even late at night, all thanks to the snow.<br />
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I love the contrast between this picture and the previous. Here I focused on the 1st lamp. In the previous I focused on the snow covered walkway. <br />
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-79629491339454639102013-01-20T01:13:00.000-07:002013-01-20T13:42:24.146-07:00Chicken or Paneer Tikka Masala Recipe Making This recipe was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Don't let all the spices fool you into thinking this is hard. If you can melt butter and dump in ingredients, you can make the sauce. With the paneer, just be patient. If you try it out and recommend any adjustments let me know. Sorry I didn't take any pics of the finished product. I ate it before thinking about it. I tweeked slighlty recipes from Food network and <a href="http://www.mattawamum.com/2012/01/bombay-house-chicken-tikka-masala/" target="_blank">Mattawamum's blog</a> They looked good but I thought they needed slight adjustments. I thought it turned out really well. I bought Lamba Tikka Masala from my favorite Indian restaurant and I thought it was pretty comparable. The restaurant's tasted like it had a little bit of beef stock in it. That could be from the lamb though. I'm definitely making this one A LOT.<br />
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Let me know what you think if you try it. My only complaint is that the first time I made it I didn't double or triple the recipe. It is seriously so good.<br />
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Ingredients:
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1 1/2 Lbs chicken tenders, chopped into bite size pieces
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<strong>(Marinade)</strong><br />
1 cup plain yogurt
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2 Tbsp lemon juice
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2 tsp cumin
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2 tsp red pepper
(I use less when cooking for my low-heat tolerante loved-ones)<br />
2 tsp black pepper
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1 tsp cinnamon
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1 tsp salt
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1 tsp ground ginger
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<strong>(Paneer)</strong>
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8 cups whole milk
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¼ cup lemon juice
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1 tsp salt (more or less to taste)<br />
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<strong>(Sauce)</strong>
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1 Tbsp unsalted butter
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2 garlic cloves, minced
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1 jalapeño, minced
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2 tsp ground coriander
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1/8 tsp pepper
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¼ tsp cayenne pepper (add more for more “heat”)
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½ tsp ground ginger
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1 tsp cumin
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1 tsp paprika
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1 tsp garam masala
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1/2 tsp salt
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1 can (8oz) tomato sauce
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1 c heavy whipping cream
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<strong>(Garnish)</strong>
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Cilantro to taste
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<strong>Chicken</strong>
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- Cut the chicken bite size.
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- Mix all the marinade ingredients in a dish, add chicken.
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- Coat the chicken. <br />
- Let marinade in the fridge (at least 30 minutes, no longer than 24 hours)
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- Stovetop: Add 1tblsp olive oil (uh oh, extra ingredient, can you handle it?) to a skillet with high sides. Heat the oil, add the chicken. Try not to add all the marinade. Cook on med-high for about 8 mins.<br />
- Grill: Use a grill plate with small slats so smaller pieces of chicken don’t fall through. (I haven’t tried this method yet. Though my guess: 3 mins each side on med-high)
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<strong>Sauce</strong>
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- Measure all your spices into a bowl (so you can dump them in all at once)
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- Open up your can of tomato sauce
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- Melt the butter over medium heat <br />
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- Add garlic and jalapeño and cook for 1 minute.
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- Dump in the spices. Stir. (it should look pasty) <br />
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- Enjoy the amazing smell (seriously, if you don’t, why are you cooking?)
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- Add tomato sauce. Stir and cook on medium for 15 minutes. It should be thick when you’re done
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- Add in the cream: 1 cup is the standard. You can add more to dilute the heat (you pansy).
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<strong>Paneer</strong><br />
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- Line a large colandar with cheese cloth (I bought mine at Wal-Mart in the fabric section. I ignored the weird looks I got going up and down the fabric/craft aisles) Then end goal is to dump cheese curds in this thing and twist and tie it off so make sure you leave enough cloth to make tying easy.<br />
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- Boil the whole milk in a non stick pot (because it will stick) over medium heat. It takes a while for it to get all foamy. That foam is what you want.<br />
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- Add the 1/4 cup of lemon juice. It will almost immediately seperate into curds and whey.<br />
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- Turn down heat to simmer/low<br />
- Stir, trying to clump the curd together<br />
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- Pour out the curds. <br />
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- Rinse with water (It is bathed in lemon juice after all)<br />
- Squeeze the water out<br />
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- Add salt and mix (seriously please salt to taste. The first time I made it I didn't add salt. It tasted like milk. Only more bland)<br />
- Wrap tightly in the cheesecloth and try to squeeze out even more water. <br />
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- Tie it and hang it over your sink and leave for 15 mins. Hopefully it will drain some more<br />
- Give it another squeeze to try and get out any more moisture<br />
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- shape into a flat wheel with the knot/twist on the side, lay on a plate, put another weighted plate ontop and let it sit in your fridge for 20+ mins</div>
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-17230672263940627592012-12-21T10:39:00.001-07:002012-12-24T08:17:19.882-07:00On Faith, Adversity, 26 Lives And WhyOn Monday Decemeber 17th, two families met on seperate occassions. Both families were embraced by loved ones. They listened to music. They listened to preaching. They shared memories. They were at funerals. One funeral program reads Jack Pinto. Age 6. "A Brave Boy." Noah Pozner's family described him as "smart as a whip." He called his twin sister, Arielle, his best-friend. She lived because someone made a decision to put her in a different class at the beginning of the year.<br />
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Why did this have to happen? <br />
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Ana Grace was one of 20 students killed. Her family wanted people to know their beloved little girl was "a child devoted to Christ." Charlotte Bacon, 6, was wearing a new pink dress and boots to school. The last outfit she would choose in this life. Jack was a Giants fan. Receiver Victor Cruz wore his name on his cleats and gloves Sunday in his honor. He was buried wearing Cruz's jursey. Noah's Aunt asked of talking to her nieces and nephews, "How do you tell them that's how their brother died?"<br />
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Grace McDonnell was 7. She loved art, gymnastics, soccer and her dog 'Puddin'. Her grandma said "I think everybody should know about these beautiful children whose lives were cut short." <br />
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I agree. I pray we never forget the lives of all children wherever they are cut short by violence.<br />
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I saw someone post on Facebook. "Where is God in Newtown?"<br />
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Earlier this year in Syria video captured a father holding his 5 year old child. It looked like he was sleeping but the tears in that father's eyes told a different story. The boy was dead. Killed in a mortar attack by the Syrian army. The man wasn't even a rebel, part of the opposition. He asked over and over, "Why?"<br />
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Sunday a CBS anchor asked a guest, "Why did God let this happen?"<br />
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This is not the first time someone in their hour of need has asked such a question. It is often in our trials that we feel the most alone but never once has God abandoned us. That designation belongs to the Son. Matthew 27:46 reads "<span style="font-family: David; font-size: medium;">אלי אלי למה שבקתני</span>" ie. Eli Eli lama sabachtani" which is to say, "My God, My God, why has thou forsaken me? Jesus Christ, the greatest of us all, has descended below it all so that He might understand.<br />
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This mortal life of our was designed to be a test. To prove us and see what we would choose in even the most horrible of circumstances. Would we be godlike or not? Would we follow Him or not? The Savior of ALL Mankind has his hand stretched out to us and invites us to walk with Him. "Wherefore say unto the people, Choose ye this day to serve the Lord God who made you. Wherefore my spirit is upon you therefore all thy words will I justify. And the mountains shall flee before you and the rivers turn their course and that shalt abide with me and I with you, therefore, walk with me."<br />
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The road He traveled was not an easy one. Yet He allowed his tormentors to persecute Him in so terrible a fashion because He loves us. That torment caused God, the Greatest of All to suffer and bleed from every pore and desire not to partake of the bitter cup. But He did partake and because of that, Glory be to the Father, we may all be clean and we may yet live again.<br />
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This life is not the end. Our spirits are immortal. The same socialities and relationships that we have in this life will continue with us into the next. My brother Tanner died when he was just 2-years-old. That was more than 15 years ago yet I am still Tanner's brother as he is mine.<br />
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These 20 little children, they will live again. And when they died their spirits were taken straight home to that God which gave them life. For blessed are the children for they are innocent before God and have no need of repentence, since they have no need of repentence they have no need of baptism. All children who die before the age of accountability are saved in the Kingdom of God, and are joint-heirs of Christ.<br />
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Where was God? Weeping. Comforting. Bringing a few dozen of His little children home. He has engraven us upon the palms of His hands. A father or mother would sooner forget their child than God would forget us.<br />
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I work in the news. I'm not blind. There is much that is evil and wrong in the world. Mothers, fathers, teachers, a President, a nation and even God weep because of the choices of one invidividual on Decemeber 14, 2012. Those choices were evil.<br />
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Why does God allows His children to make evil choices? Because that's what Christ died for. That's what His sacrifice was all about. Jesus gave us a choice. Here on Earth during this mortal test of ours we can decide where we want to go. Do we want to follow Him or not? Do we do good or not? Do we go to Heaven or not? Our choices here will determine where we go because sinners will not be comfortable in the presence of God. We will go where we feel most comfortable. If that is in the joyous presence of God or as far from Him as we can get. Bad things happen. Sometimes they happen as a Divine punishment but more often they happen because there are horrible people who do even more terrible things. <br />
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Their choices do not define us. It is our own. While there is so much evil in the world there is also much that is good. The twitter hashatag #26Acts is proof. Kristen Beart wrote, "<span class="username js-action-profile-name"><u><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">@</span></s><b><span style="color: #0084b4;">kbeard137</span></b></u></span><br />
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<a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%2326Acts&src=hash"><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">#</span></s><b><strong><span style="color: #0084b4;">26Acts</span></strong></b></a> donated to New England Equine Rescue in memory of Jessica Rekos who loved horses". Another man tweeted, "<span class="username js-action-profile-name"><u><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">@</span></s><b><span style="color: #0084b4;">JRBuckley68 </span></b></u></span>Act #4: Paid for the toll for 26 cars behind me on the Sunshine Skyway Bridge <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%2326Acts&src=hash"><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">#</span></s><b><strong><span style="color: #0084b4;">26Acts</span></strong></b></a>" and again someone else "<span class="username js-action-profile-name"><u><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">@</span></s><b><span style="color: #0084b4;">bdub969391</span></b></u></span></div>
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<a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%2326ACTS&src=hash"><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">#</span></s><b><strong><span style="color: #0084b4;">26ACTS</span></strong></b></a> Paid 4 Breakfast for the first 26 cars in the drive thru after 9:30 at <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23dunkindonuts&src=hash"><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">#</span></s><b><span style="color: #0084b4;">dunkindonuts</span></b></a> - match me please $130 - <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23newtown&src=hash"><s><span style="color: #66b5d2;">#</span></s><b><span style="color: #0084b4;">newtown</span></b></a>". The world is so full of beautiful. I have faith in humanity. I have faith in God. Some may call my faith a crutch that allows me to hobble along through adversity. I call my faith wings that allow me to rise up and be more than I could be alone.</div>
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Today during my morning newscast Kurt Bestor sang <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khRznLpLpHc" target="_blank">"Prayer of the Children"</a> as a tribute to those beautiful little children. While he sang video of the children played. Little smiling face after little smiling face echoed across the screen. May such prayers be answered is my prayer. Blessed are the children for of such in the kingdom of heaven. So tragic, so terrible yet death is not the end. Their families will see their smiling faces again.</div>
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This Christmas season I pray that we all may receive the comfort we need, that we may see the light that shines out from the darkness, that we spread the love of God to all man. May God bless us and keep us and may we all find the courage to allow Him to do so.</div>
Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-3783283092249781852012-10-26T23:06:00.000-06:002012-10-26T23:12:28.353-06:00Meditation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Catching Up</strong></div>
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I haven't posted in a LONG time and there is a lot that I've been meaning to post. So here it goes, rapid fire style.</div>
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<strong>10 years ago..</strong></div>
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10 years ago this past August I returned home from my mission. I served for 2 years for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saint and represented the Lord as a missionary speaking Spanish. My mission molded me in a way I cannot describe but hope to demonstrate each day of my life.</div>
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<strong>Special fellowship..</strong></div>
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I helped organize a mission reunion and by helped I mean earlier this year I talked Robert J. Grow and Linda Grow into organizing a mission reunion. They did pretty much everything else. Tyler and I did go and help them set up chairs and tables on their beautiful lawn. I got to see so many of my friends. There is a special bond that you form with those you serve and sacrfice with. Even a decade apart can't break that bond of fellowship. </div>
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I got to see for the first time in a long time my friend Isaac Altamirano. At times in his life he has struggled with different life challenges. It was so good to see him, his beautiful family, and hear they have been sealed together in the temple. As Isaac said "we will always be brothers".</div>
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<strong>Choices, hobby style..</strong></div>
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Save up a lot some money, what do you spend it on? Nice problem to have right? I want to have my own woodshop someday. To be able to take pieces of wood shaped in blocks and rectangles and turn it into beautiful pieces of furniture, carvings or toys, what an amazing opportunity to create. Besides, there is nothing more manly than the smell of cut wood and the sensation of looking at a finished product and thinking, I shaped that. Then there's the chance to buy a nice camera, take pictures with my wife and of my family, record memories of light. Photography is not simply a recording of an image, it is painting with light, shapes and life. One choice would take me away from my family for hours, one choice would encourage me to go on adventures with them. I chose to go on the adventures and paint with light. I still have a lot to learn but I'm enjoying the journey. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ICrTE76U4dc/UItfdA9xg1I/AAAAAAAAAUM/zfCEFDbEZVE/s1600/IMG_0303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ICrTE76U4dc/UItfdA9xg1I/AAAAAAAAAUM/zfCEFDbEZVE/s320/IMG_0303.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-idYEIqhaRI0/UItsXPaOOII/AAAAAAAAAU4/4wff1tGuRGA/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-idYEIqhaRI0/UItsXPaOOII/AAAAAAAAAU4/4wff1tGuRGA/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(no photoshop was involved in the making of these images)</span></div>
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Now I have a hobby I can share with my wife, and that is priceless.</div>
<br />Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-57081721321109606362012-05-17T19:01:00.004-06:002012-05-17T19:09:16.362-06:00They Clear the Paths to our Dreams: Thank YouSome people are dreamers. Their thoughts are consumed with what they hope to accomplish. The plan, they prepare but they never live it. Maybe they just don't know how. Perhaps the path is layed before them but it is covered in the messy vines of day-to-day life. <br />
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I am a dreamer.<br />
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At times I am lost in my dreams. At times my dreams are lost from me.<br />
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It helps to have someone come along and clear the vines from the path. Then, with the way set before me, I can leave the safety of being a dreamer, and enter the unknown of becoming a doer.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qxM9-l7o9fc/T7WgiReixmI/AAAAAAAAATU/2qJ_4GjciSM/s1600/vine+covered+path.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qxM9-l7o9fc/T7WgiReixmI/AAAAAAAAATU/2qJ_4GjciSM/s320/vine+covered+path.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My wife helps to clear the vines. She has helped make so many of my dreams become a possibility. Graduate college. Find real love. Raise a family. Carve a career. Get an MBA. Create. Write. Build. Just live it all.<br />
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Others have helped along the way as well. Every dreamer needs those people. I pray every dreamer receives them. They're a gift. Like a good wind on the sea, a fuel in an engine, an outstretched hand, they lift, propel and inspire us to move ever closer to our dreams.<br />
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Recently I have had several guides along the way.<br />
As they clear the vines, I've moved forward.<br />
I just passed the 48k mark in the story I am writing. That's 7k more than last month and I only get a few hours and sometimes a few minutes to write.<br />
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I recently built a bed for my son.<br />
I earned a 4.0 my first semester in my MBA program.<br />
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None of those things would have been possible without fantastic parents, amazing in-laws, wonderful children, my incredible bride and above all else, God.<br />
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Thank you all who clear the vines for those around you.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-14014976189981746322012-05-12T15:11:00.003-06:002012-05-17T19:03:05.523-06:00Finding My StyleWriting fiction is a lot like writing broadcast news. Rule #1: Never let the facts get in the way of a good story. <br />
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Only kidding.<br />
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Seriously, my work as a news producer has heavily influenced my style as a want-to-be published author.<br />
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<strong>It's A Diamond Ring!</strong></div>
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In a news script, you begin with the most interesting part of the story. Forget the slow reveal. You want to hook the reader/viewer immediately. A professor of mine gave this analogy: you wrap up a present, put it in pretty packaging and then hand it to your wife only to say "It's a diamond ring!" She'll unwrap it right because she wants a diamond ring.<br />
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Let me show you what I mean when it comes to news stories. Here are a couple of hook lines, or as we call them in the news biz, lead lines.<br />
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"One of the most powerful Mormons in America supports gay-marriage."<br />
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"The LDS Church broke ground on its second temple in Provo"<br />
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"The LDS Church is throwing a lot of money at the U's new law school"<br />
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"Less people are racing for the cure"<br />
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The idea is to tell people exactly what is inside the present. You can then get to the details later, namely the Who, What, When, Where and Why. Or if you prefer, the plot. You hook/sell the reader and then you tell them your story. <br />
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<strong>Who Says That Anyway?</strong></div>
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Write conversationally.<br />
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I love reading. News, non-fiction, fiction, editorials, blogs, scriptures, etc. I devour the written word. Sometimes though I read something and think, "Who talks like that?" It pulls me out of the message the writer is trying to communicate.<br />
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If a character would talk like that, great, you've given him/her a unique voice. Reading out loud is the best method for making sure you are writing conversationally. <br />
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I would never say, "It was the best of times it was the worst of times" so you probably won't see me writing it. <br />
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<strong>Save Me :03</strong></div>
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I often will fish for extra time by tweaking a script. I remove any repetitive lines. After all, if you say it once, you don't need to say it again. Let me repeat, if you say it once you don't need to say it again. (Yes, I do find myself funny) I also will phrase things differently. Ideally I am making it more simple and as a result, more conversational. My goal is to save time.<br />
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"Really Tyson, you cut that line? What? It is going to save you three seconds."<br />
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"I know, if I do that enough I can fit in several more stories into my newscast."<br />
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I found it fascinating that publishers want "copy"(a news term) also known as the manuscript, as concise and precise as possible. <br />
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<strong>Play Well With Others</strong></div>
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Writing (fiction) is a hobby of mine. Writing (news) is also a huge part of my career. That's part of the reason I love what I do. My training in news writing definitely has helped shape my fiction writing. I try to write clearly, conversationally, concisely and compelling-ly(I know, I made that word up).<br />
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Do any of your hobbies play well with your career?Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-22315448465202163462012-04-28T15:10:00.003-06:002012-04-28T22:57:21.245-06:00Building A Bed: The Project I'm Almost Finished With<strong>Buy A Bed? Why? I Can Build That</strong><br />
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It took a little convincing but I was able to talk my wife into letting me build a bed for our son. The plan was/is to build him a bunk bed but because of time constraints, I just built him the bottom half for now.<br />
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<strong>Planning</strong><br />
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I looked up several bunk beds and bunk bed plans. Then in the end I came up with my own plans/design, inspired by a design I liked. Specifically the one you see here.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJtlsGau0XE/T5xP9n4sOkI/AAAAAAAAARo/NNY-D__kF8k/s1600/Bunk+Bed+Inspiration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJtlsGau0XE/T5xP9n4sOkI/AAAAAAAAARo/NNY-D__kF8k/s320/Bunk+Bed+Inspiration.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There weren't any plans available for this bed, so I just figured it out on my own. They're not pretty but they make sense to me.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uN6sAPRzioI/T5xRuNUb2WI/AAAAAAAAARw/BC9Q3JBDeEs/s1600/Bottom+Headboard+&+Footboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uN6sAPRzioI/T5xRuNUb2WI/AAAAAAAAARw/BC9Q3JBDeEs/s640/Bottom+Headboard+&+Footboard.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tkUx-ceT7ns/T5xRyZUk18I/AAAAAAAAAR4/Wmdks6buBsA/s1600/Frame+Top+&+Bottom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tkUx-ceT7ns/T5xRyZUk18I/AAAAAAAAAR4/Wmdks6buBsA/s640/Frame+Top+&+Bottom.jpg" width="462" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ME53aok6p6I/T5xR1VNYvxI/AAAAAAAAASA/G8iVpLsBPbY/s1600/Ladder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ME53aok6p6I/T5xR1VNYvxI/AAAAAAAAASA/G8iVpLsBPbY/s640/Ladder.jpg" width="458" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-49zi5UWtDrY/T5xR5jpvuVI/AAAAAAAAASI/mcGp83AgVFc/s1600/Top+Headboard+&+Footboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-49zi5UWtDrY/T5xR5jpvuVI/AAAAAAAAASI/mcGp83AgVFc/s640/Top+Headboard+&+Footboard.jpg" width="464" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SOxEjaDM498/T5xR-pBV8cI/AAAAAAAAASQ/2_ei3kTajIs/s1600/Top+Bunk+Guard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SOxEjaDM498/T5xR-pBV8cI/AAAAAAAAASQ/2_ei3kTajIs/s640/Top+Bunk+Guard.jpg" width="458" /></a></div>
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As you'll be able to see by the finished product, I didn't add the vertical 2x4 board in the middle of the head/footboard.<br />
<strong>Materials List</strong><br />
<br />
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I'm proud to say that I was thurough enough with my materials list that I didn't HAVE to buy any extras after I made the initial purchases. I spent an approximate total of $250. That includes the stain, varnish, some new drill bits, my work-gloves, and eye protection.</div>
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<u>Just the Bottom Bunk</u></div>
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2x4x10 (2) $7.40</div>
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2x6x8 (3) $25.14</div>
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4x4x8 (2) $15.84</div>
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4x8 Plywood (1) $17.50</div>
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1x4x8 (2) $8.50</div>
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2x1x8 (12) $20.04</div>
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2x2x8 (2) $3.04</div>
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Wood Panel (2) $23.90</div>
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¼” 6” Lag Screws + washers (24) $19.68</div>
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5/16”6” Lag Screws + washers (8) $7.76</div>
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¼” Wood Dowels (8) $1.98 (1 pack) </div>
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½” Wood dowels (4) $1.98</div>
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3” Deck screws (12) </div>
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2” Deck screws (48) </div>
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Finishing nails (20) </div>
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Estimated total cost $200 (as of 2012)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<u>Both Top and Bottom</u></div>
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2x4x10 (10) $37.00</div>
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1x3x6 (2) $9.00</div>
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2x6x8 (6) $26.28</div>
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4x4x8 (4) $31.68</div>
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4x8 Plywood (2) $35.00</div>
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1x4x8 (4) $17.00</div>
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2x1x8 (24) $40.08</div>
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Wood Panel (4) $35.85</div>
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¼” 6” Lag Screws + washers (58)
$47.56 </div>
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5/16”6” Lag Screws + washers (16) $15.52</div>
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¼” Wood Dowels (16) $4.00 (2 packs)</div>
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½” Wood dowels (4) $1.98</div>
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Hook things (2)?</div>
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3” Deck screws (24) </div>
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2 ½” Deck screws (10) </div>
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2” Deck screws (96) </div>
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Finishing nails (40) $3.00</div>
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Estimated total cost $350.00 (as of 2012)</div>
<br />
This was the plan before I built. I learned that there really isn't a need for the larger lag screws. Use them if you want though.<br />
<br />
<strong>My Design</strong><br />
<br />
I used 4x4's for the posts because I wanted it to be really sturdy. In the end it also added some character to it. Slight splits in the wood give it a more rustic feel but I feel the integrity of the structure is still there.<br />
I used 2x6's for the beams because I wanted it to be sturdy.<br />
2x1's are used for the bed slats with a 3/4 plywood sheet over that. We won't need a boxspring so the design is more ideal for an eventual bunk-bed.<br />
<br />
Bead board sheets were used for the headboard/footboard. I could have used grooved pieces a bead board but they were more expensive a would have taken a little more to get to the exact right size. Looking back now I wish I would have because it would have made the back side a little nicer.<br />
<br />
<u>Headboard/Footboard</u><br />
I made them identical for a couple of reasons. It made it easier to build, it was just a matter of following a pattern and repeating that. I also just liked the look. I wanted the beadboard to make it a little nicer looking than your average bunk bed. If you wanted to save some money/time, you could do my exact headboard/footboard without the 2x4 across the bottom and the beadboard panels. To turn the bed into a bunk bed, I'll just drill dowell holes into the middle of the 4x4 posts on top of the head/footboards and on the bottom of the top bunk. <br />
<br />
I ended up with a very sturdy bed, one I feel an adult man could use safely.<br />
<br />
I will eventually be able to add a trundle bed that will slide out from underneath, and a top bunk. <br />
<br />
<strong>Building</strong><br />
I had access to a great woodshop, but because of the limited amount I could get in this woodshop, I had to focus on building just the bottom bunk for now.<br />
I did a couple of things to make building a little easier.<br />
After cutting one length, I used that as my measuring stick. The reason being, I didn't need every piece to be exactly X long. I needed particular pieces to be just as long as each other.<br />
<br />
When I cut, I tried to leave a little extra wood on. I was then able to take this off with a planer/edger or sander to get it to the right size.<br />
<br />
For drilling I created a template rather than measure out exactly where I wanted each hole. <br />
<br />
In the end the tools I used were: Miter Saw, Table Saw (though if you use a box spring and don't use beadboard panels you wouldn't need one), Drill Press, Router, Planer, Edger, and a Power Sander. I also used lots of clamps. My new wood working theory: you can never have enough clamps.<br />
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<strong>Staining</strong><br />
This is what the pre-stained, nearly finished bed looks like<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9yc5xMnyE0A/T5xTMPHOjjI/AAAAAAAAASY/G8GUWuTNYNk/s1600/nearly+finished+bed+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9yc5xMnyE0A/T5xTMPHOjjI/AAAAAAAAASY/G8GUWuTNYNk/s400/nearly+finished+bed+(1).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I chose a stain with a bit of red to it. I forgot to stir the stain and was about half-way done when I noticed the headboard was brown, and the rest of the bed I had stained was red. I waited for it to dry, sanded off the red, and restained it. I added one coat of satin varnish (I thought the other options were too shiny).<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Be9QI1LOvSc/T5xboIP7PxI/AAAAAAAAASk/PPBr6N6hfL0/s1600/Stained+Bed+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Be9QI1LOvSc/T5xboIP7PxI/AAAAAAAAASk/PPBr6N6hfL0/s400/Stained+Bed+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KD0uBJrkHBs/T5xbrTlMRiI/AAAAAAAAASs/uHO469cfnrw/s1600/Stained+Bed+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KD0uBJrkHBs/T5xbrTlMRiI/AAAAAAAAASs/uHO469cfnrw/s400/Stained+Bed+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
The white piece of wood is the sheet of plywood.<br />
<strong>Just Waiting On Bedding</strong><br />
<br />
Once we have the bedding, we'll buy the mattress. I'll take off the side beams (rails) and haul everything up to my son's room where I'll put it all together, complete with head/footboards, beams, the slats you saw in my pre-staining pic, and the sheet of plywood that will replace a boxspring. <br />
<br />
I've already received several compliments from neighbors that have seen it sitting in my garage. I want to put it together now but have decided to wait until the bedding arrives. That way we'll be able to celebrate the brand-new, newly completed bed.<br />
<br />
Estimated time it took me to build (includes shopping/cutting/constructing/staining): 30 hoursTyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-34798399560955614572012-04-25T18:49:00.000-06:002012-04-25T18:49:05.939-06:00My ProjectsI have a couple of projects I've been working on. One I'm just starting out on, one I've nearly finished and one I am just past the half-way mark.<br />
<br />
<strong>The One I'm Starting Out On</strong><br />
<br />
I've been in MBA school since January but you already knew that, right? So my project just isn't to graduate. I want to make the dean's list, I want to get a 4.0. <br />
<br />
Why is this so important to me? It's because I've never really worked hard in school. I breezed through High School and graduated with Highest Honors. In college I was average, not because I didn't understand but because I was lazy.<br />
<br />
I want to prove it to myself that I can do it. How can I describe how I feel about this? Maybe this way: I want to conquer this demon.<br />
<br />
I literally just learned that I got an "A" in one of if not <em>the</em> hardest class I have ever taken! IT in the Entrepreneur. The concepts, business terminology, etc were so completely foreign to me. Who knew what ROI (return on investment) or RFP(request for proposals) mean? I certainly had never heard of them. Then throw in the topics ranging from asset management, help-desk, not to mention the work load. I'd never read a case-study before now, at least not that I know of. Now I've read nearly 100.<br />
<br />
This is just the beginning and I feel like I can sprint the rest of the way.<br />
<br />
<strong>The One I've Nearly Finished</strong><br />
<br />
I'm building a "big boy" bed for Tyler. It's a twin that I can eventually turn into a bunk bed. As soon as the bedding arrives and we buy a new mattress I'll be able to move it into Tyler's room and declare it finished. Because even though it's done, doesn't mean it's finished. (I need to clean out the garage first).<br />
<br />
I'll post more in-depth on my "big boy" bed project later. I have pics, and video, and a materials list, etc.<br />
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<strong>The One Where I'm Just Past The Half-Way Mark</strong><br />
<br />
I've been attempting to write a YA Fantasy for years now. I've learned a lot along the way from starting and restarting, then editing, etc. Now I have written more than 41K words in a story that seems to be making sense. Since the plot is more than half done that must mean this particular project is as well, right? Oh, now the story gets really fun!<br />
<br />Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-17329139908621816392012-03-21T17:39:00.001-06:002012-03-21T17:39:11.581-06:00Stand In Holy PlacesThis is the talk I prepared for Sunday March 11th. I wanted to share it in case you missed it.<br />
<strong>He prayed us there</strong><br />
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<br /></div>
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While serving my mission in California I spent much of my
time in Stockton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once, while out doing
missionary work my companion and I felt the impression to go see Hermano
Palacios, the ward mission leader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
arrived and he was laying down in obvious pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That man of great faith had prayed that the missionaries would arrive
and give him a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were happy
to do so and left feeling we had done the work of the Lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the more important lesson is this, “and
whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that
ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you.”</div>
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The prayer of Hermano Palacios was answered because he, as a
disciple of Christ, stands in holy places.</div>
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<o:p><strong> Know where you stand</strong></o:p></div>
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When we stand in holy places we keep the commandments no
matter what.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t sacrifice what
matters most to us for a moment of pleasure or gratification.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our vision is lifted up, we see afar off and
realize what others view as a mountain is really a mole hill.</div>
<br />
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When we stand in holy places we follow the Father’s
admonition given to Enoch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Behold my
spirit is upon you, wherefore all thy words will I justify.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the mountains shall flee before you and
the rivers shall turn from their course; and thou shalt abide in me and I in
you; therefore walk with me.”</div>
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We cannot walk with the Savior if we are not willing to
follow God’s commandments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Lord’s
commandments have not changed, will not change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God does not change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is an
immovable anchor we can use to steady our ship even as the moral storm rages
around us.</div>
<br />
<strong>Don't value the Super Shredder</strong><br />
<br />
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We are responsible for our actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end of the test here in this life,
however long our test may last, it is our own thoughts, words and deeds that
will condemn us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, if we have sought
the Lord diligently, then we will find him at that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t give up what you value most for a
trivial momentary pleasure.</div>
<br />
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When I was about 10 years old I went to Toys R Us with my
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was about the time that one
of the teenage mutant ninja turtles movies had come out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had watched it and there at the toy store,
just like in the movie, was the villain the super shredder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a little money in my wallet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also had a two dollar bill in crisp condition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My grandmother had given it to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that two dollar bill I had enough money
to buy the super shredder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked my
parents what to do, they left it up to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I bought the toy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A boy behind me
in the checkout line said, “You spent a two dollar bill on that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have given you 20 dollars for your
two dollar bill.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t give up what is
precious to you for some trivial thing.</div>
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<strong>Lifeguarding and restaurants</strong><br />
<br />
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Temptations are all around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With advances in technology exposure to some
of the filthiest things this world has to offer are inevitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t look at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turn away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Keep your thoughts pure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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In high school I worked as a lifeguard at a local pool
during the Summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All day long I was
exposed to women in swimsuits and bikinis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I kept my thoughts pure by focusing on my wife, a woman I did not then
know, and how I wanted to marry her while wearing white, in a temple of God.</div>
<br />
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When the swim season was over, I needed some extra money to
save for a mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a job as a
waiter at a Chinese restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pay
was good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in the kitchen where I
often had to go, was a large poster of a naked woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I refused to look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the poster was always there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quit after a few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided that the money wasn’t worth
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to risk<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>looking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When you are exposed to such filth, you run away and you do it
fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<strong>Where did he go wrong?</strong><br />
<br />
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My seminary teacher once asked me to point out the verse
where King David made his life changing mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My classmates and I pointed out verse after
verse, finally Brother Anderson made his point, which I have never forgotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>King David’s mistake was that he did not
decide beforehand what he would do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Decide now that you will always stand in holy places, that when life’s
moral storms rage around you, you will be in a sea of calm.</div>
<br />
<strong>Though the storms may rage...</strong><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Once before my mission I went to do some thinking on the
grounds of the Mesa Arizona temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a spot between the visitor’s center and the temple where there
is a reflecting pool, and a garden with a couple of rows of trees and
flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was there praying while a
monsoon raged around me but in my little spot the wind was calm, there was no
rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we will make sure that we are
in communication with our Lord and that we can enter His holy temples, we will
never be in doubt as to where we will end up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The world’s moral compass may spin like a top but we will know.</div>
<br />
<strong>How do I know if I will go to Heaven?</strong><br />
<br />
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If you want to know where you are going, ask yourself one
question, am I worthy to enter the temple?</div>
<br />
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Friday night as I entered the chapel of the Bountiful Temple
I felt an immediate light, life, love and relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Spirit poured out blessings, instruction,
and comfort upon me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I give you my
witness that if we will stand in holy places, we will be in communication with
Heavenly Father and shall receive the invitation, therefore walk with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This I testify in the name of the Redeemer,
amen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-19276014353650386912012-02-03T22:34:00.002-07:002012-02-04T08:10:53.193-07:00Leadership Lessons From Bobsled Field ProducingToday I was able to switch it up a bit and instead of just producing the morning news, go field produce a piece. The story was just a fun one on the bobsled rides at the Olympic Park in Park City. We had our anchor team: Dan Plante, Ann Sterling and Glenn Willey.<br />
<br />
<strong>I Can Predict The Future</strong><br />
<br />
I printed off directions and gave everyone my cell phone in case they got lost. I knew Dan was going to get lost. Not because he can't read directions but because he would try and figure it out on his own. So I told everyone to be there by 4:30 and to get there early. They didn't need to be there until 5:00pm. Good thing too, Dan didn't arrive until about 4:50pm. <br />
<br />
<strong>I'm Bossy</strong><br />
<br />
I told everyone what to do. I had a vision for how this final product would look and so I made sure we had everything we needed. I told the anchors what questions they should ask the silver medalist bobsledder. I told the photographer the exact shots we wanted. I told the anchors exactly what kind of promos we needed and would use. I wasn't micro-managing, I would just tell them what I wanted and why I wanted it and let them do their thing. I'd watch to make sure it worked out and it alway did. It was fun. I won't see the final product for another week. <br />
<br />
<strong>Bobsledding Is A Good Team Building Experience</strong><br />
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On the drive up to the top of the bobsled run, the camera was rolling and everyone was partially chatting. So I started asking questions and joking around with them. I realized I needed to manage the moment, the emotions and bring them together. I think they became more relaxed and natural because of it. I don't think they even realized that collectively they had tensed up. <br />
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<strong>There Is An End In Sight</strong><br />
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Once we had what we needed I went through my mental checklist at least twice. Wrote the story in my head from the video that we had gathered and realized we were okay. I then called it a day. It worked out wonderfully. The final product should air on Good Morning Utah on Feb 10th.Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-56493407881171661122011-12-16T13:00:00.000-07:002011-12-16T21:23:19.003-07:00I Believe In Santa, I've Met Him<strong>Yes I Believe In Santa..</strong><br />
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Maybe not the way that a 5-year-old believes. And I have met him, I really have. Once one cold Sunday December morning in Sioux Falls, SD the snow had piled up so high that when the plows cleared the streets it left a wall of snow and ice so tall and thick I couldn't get out of my driveway. I didn't even own a snowshovel because our landlord would clear out the snow. I was stuck. As I began trying to clear the snow with a 2X4 that's when I met Santa. Rudulph must have been sick because he drove up in a rusty old truck with a plow on the front. In half a minute he had cleared a way for me to get out then rode off saying "Merry Christmas".<br />
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<strong>I Was A Santa Helper</strong><br />
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In Arizona one year Santa needed my help. He had some toys and food to deliver and needed my to interpret because I speak Spanish. I went with him and watched this little family's home light up with hope and grattitude because Santa had remembered them. <br />
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<strong>I Wrote A News Story About Santa Today</strong><br />
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Across America, from Montana to Nebraska, needy families have put gifts for their children such as clothes and toys on lay-away. Without any explanation, Santa came into K-Marts and paid off the lay-away gifts. Santa had given so much, but especially his money.<br />
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<strong>Santa Came To Live With Us</strong> <br />
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Again in Sioux Falls, my wife suffered from horrible morning sickness. I had to take her to the E.R. several times in a matter of weeks. She could only stay in bed. I had a 2-year-old and a full-time job. That Christmas season Santa came to live with us. He gave us his time.<br />
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<strong>He Made Me Apple Crisp</strong><br />
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One year when I was young, maybe nine, Santa brought my brothers, sister and I out of the cold Idaho winter. He welcomed us into his home, sat us down and made us this delicious and completely homemade applecrisp. Then Santa told us he loved us and that we were good kids. He gave of himself.<br />
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<strong>I've Seen Santa Many Times</strong><br />
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Throughout my 30 Christmases I have seen Santa or experienced his handiwork many times. Sometimes he is old and gray, sometimes a young woman, other times a bright eyed child. His mark can be fround in gifts carefully selected, wrapped and placed under the tree or in a stocking but also in the bright smile of a young child. Santa means holy, saintly and what could be more divine than spreading love, hope and joy throughout the Earth. May we never forget what the wise man said, "He that gives money gives much. He that gives time gives more. But he that gives of himself gives most of all."<br />
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I hope you all have a Merry Christmas this year and may you be so blessed that you can experience Santa's little miracles in your life. If you open your eyes, I'm sure you'll see them.<br />
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<br />Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-66474935638794275852011-12-14T15:04:00.000-07:002011-12-14T15:04:15.880-07:00Tyson, Guest Food Critic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong>Can You Say Yum?</strong></div>
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I know. You're jealous</div>
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<strong>My job has a few perks.</strong></div>
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I have had to work on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Chritmas Eve, the 4th of July, Weekends, Graveyards, late night, and early mornings. Throw in long hours of beaking and developing news on occassion in a high stress environment and it gets rough. On the flip side, occassionally I get to enjoy a few perks. That food was one of them.<br />
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<strong>Judge Time</strong></div>
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I sampled everyone of those plates and loved every minute of it. The skill of the chefs was amazing. At that level you begin to notice the little things, does the steak have a nice sere on the outside, is the skin of the fish crispy, did they overseason or not enough season, are the the vegetables an afterthought or a star by itself, what were the extra things they did to bring out different flavors and textures? It was such a neat experience. One I hope to repeat.'<br />
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<strong>How it worked</strong></div>
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There was a big taple in the middle of a hotel ballroom. It had a lot of different kinds of food on it. All of the chefs got to select their ingredients from that table. They had 1/2 an hour to "shop" then if they went back it deducted from their score. After the shopping time came an hour of cooking time. When the clock ran out, the judging began.<br /><br />I, along with three other judges, had plate after plate put in front of us. The chefs weren't allowed to explain what they did, the food had to speak for itself. There were curries, reductions, steaks, stuffed pork medalions and candied walnuts. We had time to take one or two bites from each plate and then we had to judge. I would have loved to just sit down and eat. We assigned points to the main dish, to the additional dish (some made 2 entrees) and to the teachnical skill. Scores were tallied up and just four points seperated first from fifth. The winning score: 103.5</div>
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<strong>I'm Available</strong></div>
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In case you are looking for a food critic, I'm available and I'm always ready to eat. The chances are pretty good I'll like your food.</div>Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-58752204156895212812011-12-11T18:03:00.000-07:002011-12-11T19:32:56.338-07:00Hurray! What Am I Getting In To?<strong>Hurray!!</strong><br />
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In case you didn't know. I've taken the GMAT (MBA school entrance test). I've done well on it. I applied to two MBA programs and was accepted to both. One school even offered me some scholarship money. <br />
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<strong>U of U PMBA</strong><br />
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One of the programs, the Professional Masters of Business Administration at the David Eccles School of Business, is a top tier program. In fact it is ranked in the top 50 in country. That sounds impressive right? It is. It is an exciting business program with a lot going for it. It costs $48K and two years of my life. No, that's not the school that offered me the scholarship.<br />
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<strong>Weber State MBA</strong><br />
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Weber State's Goddard School of Business has also accepted my application. It is accredited, close and flexible. Sounds nice doesn't it? It is. It costs $19K and two to three years of my life. Yes, they offered me a scholarship. Less expensive is good, $30K less expensive is fantastic. Random fact, my very first "real" job offer was to produce the 6PM and 10PM news in Eugene, Oregon for $10.00 an hour. That's at least a lot a bit less than $30K. I said no. That's a no go Ducks.</div>
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<strong>Quandary</strong><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sROTNrBQzck/TuVlkTV-M_I/AAAAAAAAARc/XAPi8wCe_5I/s1600/imagesCAR1ODGX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" mda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sROTNrBQzck/TuVlkTV-M_I/AAAAAAAAARc/XAPi8wCe_5I/s200/imagesCAR1ODGX.jpg" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="149" /></a>That's such a fun word but not such a fun situation. At least my decision is between two good options. Honestly, part of me wanted to not get accepted into one of the schools just to make the decision easier. There are a lot of factors playing into my final choice. I mean, I graduated from BYU, can I really go to the U? (Yes, it is a valid concern. No I am not being extreme. Well, maybe a little.)<br />
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Last week I had all but made up my mind, Weber State it is. Now? I've done a 180. I've realized that I may have been asking the wrong questions in my search for answers. Now the real quandary is, do I know what I'm looking for? I have no doubt that getting an MBA is the right decision for me and my family at this point in my life. So, as I type this when I should be asleep I don't know what I will decide. I feel like both are good options and I will be happy for different reasons at each place. </div>
<img height="96" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sROTNrBQzck/TuVlkTV-M_I/AAAAAAAAARc/XAPi8wCe_5I/s200/imagesCAR1ODGX.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 203px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 943px; visibility: hidden;" width="72" />Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-3749145485538042022011-12-05T14:12:00.001-07:002011-12-11T18:57:56.665-07:007 Years Ago...<b>We Dressed In White</b><br />
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It was 11:17 AM on Saturday Dec. 4, 2004 when we agreed to love each other for forever. We knelt down at an altar and promised. Every day since I've tried to keep that promise. Sometimes there are flowers. Sometimes there are kisses after tears. It has been a journey but we've traveled it together every step of the way and that journey began with two hearts full of love, dressed in white, in a temple of God.<br />
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<b>She Brought Adventure Into My Life</b><br />
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We've traveled to Ireland <br />
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and Idaho.<br />
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We've been to the Oregon Coast</div>
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and the plains of South Dakota,</div>
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Hawaii and Missouri.</div>
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The best adventures have been the little moments of discovery all along the way where I've realized again and again that I love this beautiful woman. Like the time she was so excited about getting soaked on a ride at Sea World, in December. Or when we would go dancing and she'd look at me with her sassy eyes during the cha cha.<br />
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<b>Through The Best Of Times</b></div>
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We were together to welcome our two beautiful children into the world. She did all the hard work, I just took care of her as best as I could.</div>
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Poor and in a tiny apartment, she celebrated when I finally graduated college and now years later is willing to support my decision to head back to school.</div>
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We've gone back again and again to God's <a href="http://tysonp.blogspot.com/2009/07/nauvoo-beautiful-place.html" target="_blank">temples</a> and there can feel His peace, His love and it strengthens our bond to each other.</div>
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We've served and supported each other through trials, opportunities and have savored beautiful sunsets on Western skies.</div>
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<b>Through The Worst Of Times</b></div>
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How do you describe the pain of watching your Princess <a href="http://plastowplanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/october-glad-youre-over.html">suffer and waste away</a>? There was so little I could do but love her, pray for her, worry for her and cherish her.</div>
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I am so grateful that my Carrie survived and we were blessed with our little Lydia because of her sacrifice of health.</div>
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<b>Through Sickness</b><br />
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Once I had surgery on my toes and being the big baby that I am, I was in a lot of pain. I slept on the couch because my feet needed to be elevated. My Princess slept on the floor next to me because she wanted to be near me, she wanted to know I was okay, she wanted to comfort me when I wasn't. She loves me.</div>
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<b>Just Because</b></div>
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In the past 7 years there have been dozens of times when I have come home to my version of flowers (chocolate covered pretzels, steaks and spicy salsa). I'll occassionally put my hand in my pocked only to discover a love note. I grab the keys and tucked inside the key ring is a rolled up letter of encouragement. Who does that? My Carrie does that.</div>
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<b>My Promise</b></div>
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I'll love Carrie forever and try to become the man that I should be because that man loves her for who she is and sees her for what she can become.</div>Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-53312322734725654312011-11-21T14:42:00.001-07:002011-12-16T23:20:21.895-07:00Halloween<strong>My Son The Builder Morning Weather Man</strong><br />
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Carrie, Tyler and Lydia all came in to my work on Halloween morning. "Tyler the Builder" helped with the end of weather. Glenn was great with him.<br />
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The way a green screen works is that it keys out any one color. In our case, green. Yes that means Tyler's arms were invisibile. It was fun to watch him from the control room (ie where the producer runs the show).<br />
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Probably just as entertaining as watching Tyler is listening to us enjoying the moment.<br />
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(Video to come as soon as I can get it to work)</div>
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Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665674096742528701.post-9297536562346066782011-10-20T23:07:00.000-06:002011-11-21T17:58:36.633-07:00It's Dada Time<strong>You Probably Think I'm Crazy</strong><br />
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For Christmas I gave Carrie a trip. No, it wasn't an excuse for me to go on vacation. The stipulation, she go anywhere she wanted. She just had to be back after 4 or so days. I was going to take time off of work to stay home alone with the kids.<br />
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<strong>Now You Probably REALLY Think I'm Crazy</strong><br />
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Carrie and her sister Lisa set their dates and decided to go on a cruise of the Bahamas. They left Tuesday the 4th of October and got back home late Saturday night (read, after the kids were in bed). They were able to visit Nausa but unfortunately rough seas prevented their second stop.<br />
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<strong>Enough About Them, Let's Talk About Me (+kids)</strong><br />
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I had a plan. Mother Nature had different plans. My plans consisted of going to the Hogle Zoo, going to the Tracy Aviary, maybe time at a park, walks... Mother Nature? She decided to open up the sky and rain. Non-stop. Well, it wasn't that bad.<br />
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Wednesday morning as soon as the kids got up I fed them, got them dressed and then tried to get out of the door as soon as possible. It was 9:30AM when we drove off (I was aiming for 8:30AM). The sky was overcast but no rain was coming down yet so I decided we were going to the zoo. We were bundled but we were going.<br />
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<strong>Just Monkeying Around</strong><br />
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It was the perfect zoo trip. Most of the time when I've gone to the zoo in the past, it's Summer, the animals are hot, I'm hot. It's okay. This time it was cool, not cold. Overcast, not briliantly sunny. The animals LOVED it. ALL of the animals were much more active than I've ever seen them. <br />
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<strong>KITTY!</strong><br />
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Lydia kept pointing and telling me when she spotted a kitty. I think the bobcat was her favorite. Tyler said the fox was his favorite, my guess, that means the wolves we saw. I didn't see a fox. My favorite, the tigers or the baby elephant that was playing soccer.<br />
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I think I was the only boy there over the age of 15 that day. <br />
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<strong>What You Don't Sell French Fries?</strong><br />
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After doing the zoo loop one and a half times, we went to Gourmandise in Salt Lake. A couple of sandwiches and French pastries later, we were on our way to the car. That's when the sky opened up. Had we stayed any longer at the zoo, we would have gotten dumped on.<br />
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<strong>He's A Lady's Man</strong><br />
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When I ran out to the car to buckle Lydia in, Tyler waited for me under the covered awning. It was funny watching him go over to a couple of college girls and just start talking with them. A lot of grown men won't even do that.<br />
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"They like tigers too Dada," he told me as I scooped him up and ran with him through the rain storm. (Okay it was like 15 feet away but it was raining. A lot.)<br />
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(I'll add pics and video clips when I get the chance, which may mean in 3 years)<br />
<br />Tyson Plastowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10188484625009961012noreply@blogger.com1