A Bit of Genealogy...

When you live in Wyoming, you frequently get the question, "How did you end up here?", as if something must have gone awry in your life that caused you to be here. The short answer is that I love it here and I choose to be here. But that's just why I stay here, not how I "ended up" here. Here is part of the story of how I ended up here:

My mother's family has been in Wyoming since her great-great-grandfather came to Evanston in 1879. His name was Henry Code. Henry was born in England and came to the states as a young man to join his sister in Salt Lake City. Although not a member of the church, he bought passage with a wagon train of Mormon Pioneers. He later joined the church, married,moved to Evanston, and had a large family. Henry was a gun and locksmith and repaired sewing machines. Henry built the first model steam engine in the Salt Lake Valley. Henry had no hands. He lost both of them in a childhood accident caused by careless use of gunpowder.

I have lately been given a copy of his obituary. Here is the text (from the January 21, 1911 edition of Evanston's local paper):

After an illness of two weeks, Henry Code, the pioneer gun and locksmith of North Evanston succumbed to pneumonia and jaundice early yesterday morning.

The deceased was born Aug. 21, 1836 at Lincolnshire, England, and came to America when 22 years of age. He removed in Utah with the pioneers in 1862, and came to Evanston in 1879, having resided here continuously since that time. He was married to Myranda Whipple at Salt Lake in 1873, and to this union several children were born. His wife passed away several years ago and his daughter, Mrs. Fred Lowbaker died last week. He is survived by a brother in California and a sister in Salt Lake. Also by two sons, David Burton and Charles Code and two Daughters, Mrs. Wm. Titmus and Mrs. Wm. Barnes of this city. Another daughter, Mrs. R.D. Freeman, resides in Idaho.

Mr. Code was an exceptionally clever man, and though a cripple, with both arms cut off at the elbows, followed the vocation of gun and locksmith in Evanston, raised a large family and does not owe anyone a cent.

This is certainly a creditable record. Mr. Code at all times held the respect of this community as an honorable, upright citizen.

Although I take exception to the word "cripple", I was extremely pleased to finally be able to read the obituary, along with a history of Henry Code, written by his friend. Henry is one of my heroes and one of the people I most look forward to meeting in the hereafter. Henry didn't know that someday he would have a great-great-great-great-granddaughter who was missing a hand and looked to him as an example, but he couldn't have conducted himself any better if he would have known.

Henry made his own prostheses and I am sure he will be marveling from the spirit world at all the implements available to Jane. I am also sure that along with her family on Earth cheering her on, the loudest cheer of all will be coming from Jane's great-great-great-great-grandfather, who knows Jane's struggles and her potential better than any of us.

Yet another addition to the fleet

So the ol' Subaru Legacy wasn't cutting it anymore. It isn't that I don't love it. It's just that it seemed to be closing in on me whenever we went anywhere but the park or the grocery store. 2 kids plus 2 giant carseats plus luggage plus a choice selection of stuffed animals plus the travel DVD player plus the accompanying DVD collection make for a pretty uncomfortable ride in a midsize sedan. I know lots of people do it and I commend them. I can't. However, because of the Governor's wage freeze, a new car was nowhere in sight.

But thanks to my parents and their new car purchase, we became the proud owners of their Ford Expedition.

(this is technically not it, but it looks just like this and I don't want to go out in the rain and take a picture.)

This is my first biggie size car. I must say that it is very nice to be able to put my giant stroller in the back and still have room for groceries and/or luggage. When I drive it down the highway, I feel like one of those guys that sits in a box on the back of an elephant and looks down on all the common folk. I am also proud that I now own a car that Al Gore might call excessive and wasteful. Anything that fits into that category is a good move in my opinion.

Now my only problem is that I will have a very hard time talking Chris into anything smaller once the Governor decides that it's cool to give people promotions again. Maybe he'll be convinced when I inflict the first door ding on someone else's car in the parking lot... or the second... or the third. Did I mention it's a bit of a tight fit in parking spaces? Well, it is. In the meantime, I will just enjoy riding my elephant box down the highway. And consider yourself forewarned not to park next to me.

Out of the Closet

This morning, my trip to the park included an unexpected tutorial from a 10 year-old boy on Yo-Gi-Oh cards. He went on and on about how this card had so many destruction points and that card had so many life force points (not sure if I have this right, it was indeed a very involved discussion - at least on his part). He was very excited about entering in a Yo-Gi-Oh tournament. In short, he was a very geeky kid. The kind that gets made fun of on the playground. But he didn't seem to care he was a geek. And when he noticed Jane's arm, he asked the standard questions. After I offered my standard explanation, he said, "Oh! It makes her special. We all have things that make us special".

On my walk home, I realized how thankful I am for geeks. I can now openly admit what I was too ashamed to say during my childhood years: I am proud to be a geek. I recall in third grade when the teacher held up a misplaced Anne of Avonlea book, I was too embarassed to claim it as mine in front of the whole class. All I wanted was to be cool. By the time high school rolled around, I had embraced my tendencies enough to join the speech team, but still turned down the High School Summer Institute invitation when it arrived my junior year.

But when I entered college I decided to come fully out of the closet and declare my intentions to become an engineer. I was finally proud to be a geek. And when it was time to decide upon a spouse, I knew only a geek would do.

Thank goodness for the geeks on the playground who see differences as special. Thank goodness for the geeks in high school who think that Calculus is cool. And thank goodness for the geeks who design safe cars, systems to deliver clean water to my tap, the glorious internet and artificial hands that open and close when the wearer flexes a tiny muscle.

When I was a kid all I wanted was to be cool. Now that I am a mother, I hope every day that my girls will be geeks.

The Whole Package

He's got the button down plaid shirt, a fleet of calculators at his command, the steel pinky ring and now he'll have a stamp.



Congratulations, Chris for passing your P.E. exam.

And the Answer Is...

A double jogging stroller!


So let me explain why I am so excited. The girls and I love to go on walks. But Emily is not capable of going long distances on her short legs. This has required that I strap 17 pounds of Jane to my chest in the good old Baby Bjorn while pushing Emily in the stroller every time we want to go for a walk. Emily has also loves to go on runs (lately just with Daddy - he's nice enough to watch the girls while I run), but our jogging stroller is a single so that means only Emily got to partake in the joy of running. We selected a model that works well for outdoor walking and then you can lock the wheel to make it a true jogging stroller, thus solving both problems.


So far, we have only taken it for one very windy walk, but I already love it. It was so freeing to just be able to push the stroller without a baby strapped to my chest. Totally worth a miserable week of work!

Pop Quiz

I recently got a week's worth of unexpected work. It was the first time I've worked since Jane was born and needless to say it was a bit stressful trying to draft with a screaming baby on my lap and a three year old throwing tantrums. So I decided to buy myself something I've always wanted with a portion of the proceeds.

Can you guess what I bought? Hint: It has three wheels, is bright yellow and requires three people for it to operate at its optimum capabilities.

It should arrive this weekend at which point I will share pictures and hopefully accolades. I am soooooo excited!

That's Solids, Man... Real Solids

This week Jane hit 6 months. That means she is (slowly) moving out of her colic and spit-up days, starting to eat solids and it also means she will be getting a hand. More on the hand later.

First, food.

We waited for as long as possible to introduce Jane to solids because it was such a screaming horrible mess with Emily. But we had nothing to worry about. Turns out Jane likes to eat. And that's okay when you're six months old because no one makes fun of you for having cellulite on your calves.

According to Jane's physiatrist, six months is also the perfect time to fit a baby with a prosthetic hand. Yes, I was reluctant. But here's what sold me: she said that if we don't do it now, our next window will occur in another 5 or 6 years and that if we do it now, she will accept it as part of her body more easily. But even at that, I would have never signed on for full time use. Jane will wear her hand in half hour periods a few times a day - just to build up her shoulder strength and get her used to having something there.

Her first hand will be what they call "passive". It won't have moving parts and will be made out of hard plastic. I'll post some pictures of it when we get it. At 18 months, she will move to a mechanical hand and a few years after that an electric hand. If at that point she doesn't want to use it, I'm perfectly fine with her not wearing a prosthesis, but this way we keep her options open.

So that is the hand story.

In other news, we finally got some cute pictures of Jane in her blessing dress.




Thanks, Mom for the beautiful dress. Thanks, Chris for the beautiful baby. I take no credit.