An early blog before blogs were invented

Hello fellow bloggers!

Tonight I am rerunning one of my Christmas letters because I had a conversation with a friend the other day about being a Grinch and it reminded me of this letter I sent out in 2000. Let me set the stage. In Dudleyland, we were living in Salem, we had all of our kids. Tyler was 11, Trent was 8 and Megan was 2. Below is what I sent out as our Christmas letter for Christmas 2000:

Ode to the Grinch

Everyone down in Salem liked Christmas a lot

But the Grinch who lived just west of Salem did not.

Hate isn't the word, "dread" describes it better,

the shopping, the baking and of course that letter.

It could be she didn't quite know where to start.

It could be, perhaps, she didn't have the heart.

But whatever the reason, no one dared ask,

she sat there in November dreading the task.

A half marathon in January had Annie's fingers nervously drumming,

gale force wind and rain made the whole experience quite numbing.

Basketball, baseball, football and soccer for the boys boys boys...

driving them to and from, watching oh the joys joys joys!

In March there was an Elmo cake and lots of presents too.

Little Meggie Moo is now more than two.

Trent turned eight with a party at the gym,

quite the little man, we're sure proud of him.

Summer was filled with trips of camping and the beach,

spending time with grandparents is a goal we like to reach.

Bruce and Annie ran Hood to Coast, a tradition they wish to keep,

they had a blast and remain married despite many miles and lack of sleep.

Bruce spent two weeks in Hawaii, that military duty is quite a chore,

Annie hopes to join him next year frolicking on the shore.

Wizard friends joined Tyler for a Harry Potter birthday.

He's eleven now, our young man gets bigger every day.

That brings us to November, where the Grinch, with a grin

said "I'll skip the dumb letter" her voice with chagrin.

When she heard a small sound rising over her gloom,

it wasn't a sad sound or the voice of doom.

It was her little blonde daughter, her voice filled with love,

singing "Jesus loves me" like the coo of a dove.

And the Grinch sat perplexed at her blank piece of paper,

was this the true meaning of the whole Christmas caper?

It wasn't about presents or baking or a letter,

the reason for Christmas was oh so much better.

She composed a quick poem to give to all of you,

with the strength of ten grinches, plus two!

Merry Christmas to all our loved ones and have no doubt,

this message to you: Remember what Christmas is about.

So, that was my Christmas wish back in 2000 and remains pertinent this year too. Sometimes it seems like all the activity of Christmas can be overwhelming, but try to remember the true sentiment of Christmas. I hope you are all enjoying the season.

Dudster

Saying goodbye to a friend

I have been anticipating a goodbye, which I don't think is a good thing for me as I don't like goodbyes, per se. I pretty much hate them. It's kinda funny because I spent the better part of my early life, let's say 18 years in the same town and didn't have a lot of these horrible things that people speak of called "goodbyes". Ew, they should be called badbys, they hurt, they make my eyes leak and my heart hurt.

I shall spare you all the next few years of my life which were peppered with goodbyes since I ended up marrying a military guy. I managed to survive each one, but never really mastered the art. I made some really good friends along our military route. I have conjured up a lot of memories of each of them as I write this blog. I think that might be a sign that although I don't enjoy the goodbye, I do remember the friendship and even keep in touch with them as well.

Alas, that brings me to the goodbye that this title speaks of, it is of my dear friend John Stumbo. I have known that he was going to leave our church for a while, but it doesn't make his departure any less painful. I don't want to hash out his tenure at our church because it would take up too much space and I could never do it justice. Suffice to say that today he said that he can't understand all the people saying to him how much they have been blessed by him because he feels so blessed by being apart of this thing called Salem Alliance. Salem Alliance has been blessed beyond this blog and any other articulation by John Stumbo. Pause here for tears...

So, on this day of him packing his final things in his office which is a few feet from my cubicle... I sat at my desk and wandered over to his office to pop off occasionally. It was a good vibe. We'd had our goodbyes and I wasn't feeling particularly weepy, just kinda flipping him crap. At one point I went in his office and noticed a really cool triangle shaped metal ruler in one of his boxes. I picked it up and commented that it was nifty. It was quite nifty, btw, one of those cool old ones. Anyway, late in the day out comes Stumbo... he says "Anyone with an eclectic work space like you that comments on this, deserves to have it." He handed me the cool ruler. I told him that I didn't need it and he should keep it, I was just commenting on it and it was from Minnesota, so he should keep it. He casually says "it was from my Dad's office" He wanted me to have it. It was such a very non-event and yet it was an event. Here was John giving me something that had been his Dad's in such a casual way... it was perfect in that our friendship has always been that way. I don't need to give the details, but basically John gets me and I get him.

A bit later, he was leaving for good and I offered to help carry boxes out to his car. He said he'd love me to help. I did and his assistant Kathy helped too, he told a funny story about his recently purchased car and a speeding ticket, it was all very casual and normal... we loaded his car and he drove off. I will miss my friend. I will see him again, I know this, but I will miss him so much. As Josh Mann said (our Middle School Pastor) John has a quality of occupying an inordinate amount of space in people's hearts. I think that is a good quote. I know that is true with me. I will miss him very much. I continue to pray that he will run again and that he will be healed.

Good bye John. See you later. You have touched my heart in knowing you. I will never be the same.

The busyness of life

Sooo, the title of this blog might give you a general idea, but basically here's the dealio yo! Fall around the Dudley house is chaotic at its most boring time and just plain crazy at its peak. We have 2 boys in Cross Country, one in college at Whitworth and one in high school at West Salem.

Pause for commercial: Go Pirates!!!!!!!! Go Titans!!!!!!!!

Let's just say that we are fans. We go to every meet that we can. Tyler doesn't run near us as often as we like, but we get to a few a season and we go to all of Trent's. Let's just add to that mix, just cuz. I also referee volleyball. That consumes much of my September thru mid November.

This particular fall I decided to start officiating college again, so that added to the mix a bit. Suffice to say, my goofy little uniforms are quite familiar with the inside of my washer and dryer.

As if enough Dudleys weren't busy enough, Bruce is traveling all over with his drug dealing job. Ok, you all know that he is a Pfizer Pharmaceutical District manager right? It sounds so much cooler to say drug dealer, anyway, he's occupied a few hours a week doing that. I work 40 hours a week also, so we are busy, to say the least.

The other component to this mix is Megan, our darling youngest. She doesn't do a fall sport, yet anyway. She does like volleyball, but being a 7th grader, they don't play it until Winter. What does occur for her in the fall, however, are the sign ups for the 3, count them, 3 things she does want to do during winter. There is her school volleyball for 7th graders, there is the club volleyball, which she's done for the last 2 years and there is Skyball which is the middle school basketball program in Salem.

The emails and flyers and phone calls begin around mid October. I corner Megan; "Are you sure you want to do basketball this year, even though both volleyballs are at the same time?" She assures me that she does. I push a bit more, "honey, this is a lot of time you are committing to, are you really sure you want to do it all?" Yep, she does. So, I go to the bad cop and enlist his help. I figure if I employ Big Bad Daddy onto the scene, I'm golden. He'll lay down the law and we'll be back down to a manageable 2 sports per season per kid quota that we've managed for.... EVER!!!

Well, guess what? Mr. Softie tells me, and I quote: "We'll make it work, I'll help out, she deserves to play basketball like the boys did." Well, that's fine and dandy, except the boys never played volleyball on TWO teams while they also played basketball!! Awesome!

Fast forward to November aka now! Last week Megan had tryouts for Middle school volleyball, tryouts for Skyball, 2 nights she had to volunteer at church for her fundraiser, she also got sick (bonus) and oh yeah, did I mention that Mr. Softie, Big Bad Daddie, aka bad cop was in New York? Awesome! And with a perfect double switch, don't even still know how it happened??? I am the assistant coach of her basketball team! Tryouts for the club team are in a week, I'm just praying I don't wake up on the next day with a volleyball tattoo on my lower back.

You know, it's my life. I gripe, but I love it. I attended the coaches meeting tonight and I'm already thinking of drills in my head and dreaming of high fives and victories... I love my kids, it's what I do.

My Tyler

Today my blog is a tribute to my number one child. 21 years ago today almost to the minute at the beginning of writing this, I gave birth to Tyler Scott Dudley. He weighed 8 lbs. 2 oz and was born at 5:24 pm in Richland, WA. I will spare you the gory details, but suffice to say, after 20 hours, I was glad the giant headed kid had finally made his grand entrance.

Tyler was one of those babies who gave instant feedback to all who were there. He was very bright-eyed and stared at you, almost like he knew a secret. He immediately stole my heart, that's for sure. Bruce wasn't able to be there for the birth, he was at the Officer Advance course at Ft. Ben Harrison in Indianapolis. Tyler was born before Skype was invented so we overnighted a VHS tape to him of the birth. I can't imagine how surreal it was for him to become a dad over the phone and via video taped images. 10 days later Tyler and I flew out to meet Daddy for the first time. (That was adventure worthy of its own blog entry, maybe some day)

We spent 6 months in Indy where I was home with Tyler while Bruce attended his Army school. It was a very special time for me and I still look back on those days fondly. Tyler basically trained me in the art of mothering, he was such an easy baby and we settled into a routine and it really does seem like only yesterday that he was my little infant cooing and projectile vomiting his baby barf everywhere.

Ladies at the store would often stop and goo goo over him as I do to other young moms now. They would always say "Enjoy him while he's a baby, before you know it he'll be all grown up." I used to smile politely but inside would think that they were a little off their rockers. Well, guess what, the crazy old ladies were right and now I've turned into one of them. My little baby is a big grown up college student who still delights us, doesn't barf on us anymore, but makes us very proud. The time went by in the blink of an eye.

Happy Birthday Ty Ty, your mom loves you.

My Great Auntness

Today I am a great aunt. Actually, on October 15th I became a great aunt. I have been an aunt since October 5th of 1987. On that day, my darling nephew Curtis was born. I was nowhere near the scene of the crime. It killed me. I was in another country, Germany to be precise. In those very ancient and olden of days, we didn't have internet or twitter or any of that. I had to rely on the good old fashioned telephone. I was very excited when I heard the news. I wasn't really a "hands on" aunt at that point. I did receive a video at some point of him rolling over. It was great, he would roll and roll and roll (only one way, he hadn't mastered the reverse yet). I was really happy to see the nephew I had yet to meet, but mind you, I'd not seen my other family members for a year and was anxious to see them... but no, all I saw was Curtis rolling around on the carpet and an occasional knee or ankle. I remember watching that 45 minute video and saying, "oh, there is Nana's cane and her lower leg... wish I could see her face..."

Fast forward to Curtis' son being born. Facebook is now in play. I knew that Siera was having some blood pressure issues and was praying. The due date was a couple weeks away and she was on bed rest. Then, all of a sudden we are having a baby.

I had a volleyball match that night. I get done refereeing and have 3 missed calls from Judy. Too late to return her calls. I get home and Bruce has a message from dad, Grandpa Hall. Judson was born, 4 lb. 9 oz. I immediately question this. I think that someone has screwed up the numbers because they would have a huge and healthy baby. Too late to call home and verify, I sit on my data. Next morning I check in with Judy and get the poop. Little buddy was indeed only 4 lb 9 oz. due to having his cord all tangled up. He had stopped growing and thanks go God's great plan had been born earlier than scheduled because Mom had high blood pressure, most assuredly saving his life. Praise be to God. I know that You have a plan for Judson. I am sure he will do great things for the Kingdom. I am so excited to watch Your plan unfold. For right now, I cannot wait until I get to hold my little great nephew.

Great Aunt Annie is basking in the glow of Great Auntdom..

Inside the Referee's brain

I apologize if the title of this blog scares any of you, if it does, that is probably a good instinct and you should listen to it. I am not undergoing brain surgery where you can peer into my brain literally, but I am going to attempt to provide you a little insight as to the many many thoughts I have while I am refereeing and cannot articulate.

I have been refereeing volleyball since my oldest child was a baby. He turned one during my rookie year. He will be turning 21 in a couple weeks, so quick math will tell you that I've been at this a while. This doesn't automatically mean that I'm the best official out there, believe me, I've seen folks who have been doing this longer than me and are not firing on all pistons. I am not cocky, by any stretch of the imagination, but I have a pretty decent resume when it comes to this goofy vocation of mine. At the very least, I read the rule book and pass a test every year in order to be in the association and get assignments. I know the rules quite well. At any rate, I had this thought the other night (during a match, actually) that I wish I could say aloud the things in my head during matches. It would be very unprofessional, but I think it would make me feel better. I can blog some of them so here goes:

The following are things that I have thought silently during matches over the last 20 years:

• Coach: What was in the net? Me: Her giant bosom was in the net coach, can you not see that she looks like Dolly Pardon? Really?

• Coach: Are you sure she was in the net? Me: Um, yeah and even if I weren't I'm pretty sure there is some DNA proof still in the net, but thanks for asking.

• Coach: How was that a lift? Me: Well, short of her hand actually being an elevator in Great Britain? It was a lift in every other way imaginable.

• Coach: Call it both ways! Me: Gee coach, I'd love to but seeing as how the other team is way more skilled than your team, I can only just call the crappy stuff I see, sorry.

• Coach: You calling their setter more than my setter is giving their team an unfair advantage! Me: Actually, their setter being way better than your setter is giving their team an unfair advantage. It's called winning.

• Coach, yelling to her team: Don't worry about the calls, they are just homering us because we're from Redmond! Me: Coach, you're not getting homered you're getting beat, now sit down and shut up! Oops, that one actually snuck out of my head and right out of my mouth, my bad! She did sit down and the Athletic Director from the home school laughed his head off!

• Coach: How is that a back row attack? Me: After I explained the rule verbally to the mental midget... You wouldn't have to worry about your tall gangly horrible setter back row attacking if your horrible defensive passers could dig a ball without overpassing to the net every freaking time! Try coaching them a little more and nagging me a little less.

• Coach: Stands up and gives me the smirk. Me: Oh Hell to the no! (I gave him a card) He ranted some more, I gave him my best Cesar Millan hand gesture to sit and then in my head... Would you like a critique? How about you teach your girls to pass, set, serve, transition, cover, not dump all the time and just basic volleyball skills. I think you'd be a much happier "little, little man" if your team weren't so crappy!

These are just a few of the pearls of wisdom that float around my head. I'd love to vomit them all out to you, but some are, let's face it, not for blogger ears. I am still sorta sane and still love officiating. I have more good matches where I leave quite happy with no inside thoughts I wanted to share. The nights where my "inside voice" comes out are few and far between, but make for good stories.

Dudster has left the gymnasium!

Megan's Secret

As many of you know, I have 3 children. Two boys and one darling girlie girl. Here is the thing: I am NOT a girlie girl. I don't like shopping, I never have. I have shopped and I have bought things and I do like it when I get home and have new things, but the adventure of shopping has just never grabbed on to me. My poor daughter does like shopping. She also likes planning, another thing I'm not too crazy about.

Let's rewind to earlier this week. I arrive home from a volleyball match that went long. Let's just say, it was after 10:00 pm when I limped through the door. I was assessing the damage to the domaine. Not too bad. I put the few dishes in the sink, I gave a quick sweep of the family room and this note pad caught my eye... It said, and I quote: "Things to do before school" Oh boy, a list, my fave! It was in Megan's neat script:

Get school supplies

Go to Rue 21

Get a haircut

So, my mommy heart is gripped and I declare that I shall make the list happen. I had a volleyball tourney on Saturday and worked at church Sunday morning, but Sunday afternoon would be a "Mommy and Moo" day. Yay!!

We set out to the Lancaster Mall which inhabits the store "Rue 21" It actually was quite pleasant, got a pair of shoes and a cute sweatshirt for a nice price. We left there in search of a hair cut place and found one. Got Megs a very nice "7th grade haircut". I was feeling like this trip was gonna be fairly painless. We still needed to hit Target for school stuff, but was feeling good. As we're walking back toward the car, Megan saw these sweats in Victoria's Secret. I said, "Megan, I will not buy you anything out of Victoria's Secret". I may have added a "whore" in the pronunciation.

We laughed about my pronunciation and left the mall Target bound. We found the school supply stuff we needed and also made a lap through the underwear department for Megan's age. I grabbed a package of her size with the bonus (7 pack). We got home and as she was unpacking all her booty she came downstairs and told me that I'd grabbed the "day of the week" undies. Well, Megan, I guess that's our little secret. No pun intended. She is still my little girl and she can wear cute little undies, if I'm still buyin' right?

So, Megan's secret is that she has no reason to forget what day it is. My secret is that I still don't like shopping, but I love my little Lovie. I love that she understands my hatred of shopping and she appreciates my efforts toward that end.

Dudster