Reason 1001 Why I Homeschool

These are pictures of Mary Grace dressed one school day here in our family room.

She is dressed as Saint Helen if you hadn't gathered that from the "royal" clothes, the crown, and the part of the True Cross she's holding. I was just searching through my online "albums" and came across these pics. It occured to me that this kind of thing is totally NORMAL at our house! I'm never phased by a child who asks "mom which should I be a nun or a martyr - or Both!?" Or a child who jumps up and down with GLEE when they tear open their Christmas gift to find a big fat book on the lives of the saints!

This is why I homeschool. So that my children can be filled with the joy and awsome wonder that comes from the innocence and purity I am able to DEFEND and PROTECT and NURTURE here at home! My kids are FREE to love the saints and dress up as them accordingly. They are free to have discussions over fishsticks and fries at lunch that range from "How long do you think I'll be in Purgatory?" That one started a hilarious examination of ALL of our behavior!!! To discussions like "why was St. Joseph only Jesus foster father? If he was REALLY married to Mary then wouldn't he be REALLY Jesus daddy?" This last one came from Mary Grace. That one! She's gonna push me to my intellectual and creative limit!!

Anyhow, I'm just glad that they're here with me getting the answers to these questions. I try my best to answer them BUT most importantly I NEVER make fun of them for the asking. I am SURE that all this kind of talk and celebrating of our Catholicity would NOT be thought "cool" in school!! In fact, in the time Morgan and Mary were both in Catholic School for goodness sake they both were seen as a little "too Catholic" as one child put it to Morgan... Enough said!

The Privilege of Being a Woman

The Privilege of Being a Woman is the title of a book.

( As usual I pick up 2 or 3 and start reading them simultaneously 'cause I just can't restrain myself enough to finish one and then go on to another...Currently it's The Fire Within, Life Is Worth Living, and The Privilege...) The Privilege...is written by Alice von Hildebrand and it was FANTASTIC!

It is an extremely easy read. Only 108 pages and very well organized. Basically it's about what it means to be truly woman or feminine. It looks at this point from a number of perspectives. The secular perspective, a biological and psychological perspective, and then the too often overlooked spiritual/mystical one.

It has a ton of noted refrences and that's great too 'cause I know that will lead me to other books. I've been leaning a lot more in the spiritual reading direction lately. I used to be a subscriber to politcal magazines and buy and read political books. Then I evolved into philosophy/persuasive argument books. Now I'm looking a lot more inward I suppose.

I came to realize that interest in politics can only be that really - interest. I can't TRULY effect change in that arena. Then there's philosophy and persuasive argument. These were helpful to me to help me to think more clearly about the WHY I believe what I believe. What I was yearning for was to get at my own root, my own wellspring. I am often VERY passionate about topics which lie close to my heart. My friends and close family have heard many a lecture/rant from me I'm SURE they'd rather not hear for the hundreth time!

I wanted to search for a path to get closer to God and to truly come to understand what He wanted from me. That's a question I've asked Him a lot. "What do You want from me God?" This question seemed frustratingly never answered. At least how I'd like it to be answered. Preferably in an audible, deeply masculine voice, booming from overhead saying "Kris, here's what I want you to do..."

Well, I KNEW that wasn't gonna happen. I was lead by the Spirit to look in two places. My own womanhood was the first place. OK, so at a minimum, I know that I am supposed to be a woman as God made me. That's a start. So, I read The Theology of the Body and other books explaining this by Christopher West. I listened to lectures from theology of the body conferences and went to hear Fr. Thomas Loya a national speaker on these topics.

I was awestruck! I felt like I had struck personal and spiritual GOLD! AhHa! At last this is what I've been searching for. It held the key to unlocking the mystery of ME! I knew better what God wanted from me and that gives me great peace and also a great sense of purpose and direction. Now, the Holy Spirit led me to a second place. I was nearer to myself, my spouse, my vocation, now I must be nearer to God. The second place I investigated was contemplative prayer. This is why I chose to read The Fire Within - about St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila's spirituality and their true intimacy with God.

I must say this is definitely the more challenging and demanding of the two. Understanding the mystical spritual nature of human sexuality and womanhood and manhood in all their glory is eye-opening. But, understanding and attempting to be prayerful and dedicated to prayerfullness in order to attain an intimate relationship with God Almighty is beyond eye-opening, it's earth-shattering!

The level of commitment required to truly give yourself to God is a level of selflessness that I am not prepared for I guess. But I WILL TRY. God sees me TRYING and I know that He must grin a little at all my feeble pathetic attempts. I imagine this as the way a parent grins at a poorly drawn picture by their child. The picture is out of proportion, two-dimentional, simply FAR from a masterpiece! But, we love this little gift, this little drawing because it was given with love and it was our child's best attempt at re-creating something beautiful.

I thank God for my mind and my heart. I want to live out all my life learning more and more about Him and how to better serve Him. But more importantly, I want to live a life loving Him, the way He DESERVES to be loved. I'll keep trying. That's the best I can do!

"college" friends visit summer '06

Our "college" Friends

Tim and I attended SIU at Carbondale. I got there before he did. He was still active in the ARMY while I finished up my second year there. But we were destined to meet in the spring of 1995. Destiny and our place of work - The DQ on the edge of town. Tim the fry cook and me counter and icecream.
Needless to say we ate a lot of icecream and I recall Tim having quite a few chikn. strip baskets on lunch break! We shared work, and we also shared friends. We ended up holding on to two "college friends" through the years. Seems as if all the others just drifted away into a whole new life or sadly others are still stuck in college (mentally not literally)
But they say the cream rises to the top and so it does! Our only friends we still keep in contact with are truly high quality people. We are blessed to know them. Trisha and I don't see eachother as often as we'd like to and our hubbies are work-a-holics without a lot of time to go "visiting" so we rely on the phone and e-mails...
This leads me to these...Our summer visit. Trisha and her gang came up to visit me and mine...

Real Men - Part II

I came upon a blog article that tied in nicely with my older post about real men. The author compliments and sites another author on his article about the feminization of men today... I highly reccomend reading it. It's a quick read but very insightful.
http://jollyblogger.typepad.com/jollyblogger/2006/02/act_like_men_fr.html

LIFE IS PRECIOUS

Lord, help us to WELCOME every child as a GIFT - Amen.

A New Start

Well, just started back up with this book again. (Fire Within) I fell off the wagon about 3 mths ago. I MUST get back on track. My prayer life has faltered and I've been slowly sucked down the tubes of materialism, consumerism, and shallow entertainment.

I've succumb to the barrage of media assaults - Paris Hilton, Brittney Spears, Saddam's hanging, J.Z. - "show me what you got pretty mama..." and all the other CRAP you find standing in the check out line at the grocery store!

Help! Save me! I must return to prayer. I must fill my time with good books. I must do more housework (yes, sadly that IS still possible) and less daydreaming about whatever superficial garbage enters this clouded brain of mine. It's time to step out of the fog. I suppose I've let a lot slide lately because of the many deaths the family's experienced. But really that's a poor excuse. I told Fr. Bill that last time I saw him. Just when I'm in a difficult time in life, a time when I should be MORE prayerful and focused on Jesus, - I turn away from Him, and look to the big black box in our family room for comfort. (along with plenty of snacks too)

It's a new year - 2007. So, I begin with a little help from St. Teresa of Avila. Fire Within is about her approach to prayer and how to achieve contemplative prayer. Just reading the book makes me re-focus my mind on what really matters.

I highly recommend it to everyone. I tell you this book and my study of JPII's Theology of the Body have been LIFE CHANGING! Through one (theology of the body) I've learned to see the mystical meaning of human sexuality and the heavenly purpose of my own feminity) Through the other (St. Teresa of Avila's 7 mansions) I've learned that prayer is so much more than words and that God wants to touch us deeply if we only let Him. He wants to be our lover - in the purest sense of the word! WOW! It's mind-blowing stuff!!

Well, as much as I'd love to stay here and write about more mind-blowing books and theology, I have to go do the mind-numbing tasks of a simple stay at home mom!
Duty calls!

Ready for Company

My children are upstairs cleaning their rooms right now. Well, truth be known it is more likely Morgan and Mary Grace are cleaning their room and Collin is "shooting" his gun at some invisible bad guys. Monica is still considered exempt from cleaning detail....but not for long.

We'll be having friends over tomorrow. So, jelly MUST be wiped from the spindles on kitchen chairs. Dirty footprints MUST be wiped from the walls. Yes, yes, I DID say FOOTprints, not fingerprints... There are many climbing attempts made here. Most often by Collin. Lastly, there's the laundry. Ah, my favorite! Sort, wash, move to dryer, fold, sort again, put into baskets, send to designated rooms....This is where we get stuck! Baskets make their way to rooms with Downy fresh clothes all folded and ready to be put away and THEN....they go absolutely no where fast! But company is coming! So those baskets MUST be emptied.


Speaking of company - we had some yesterday. Aunt Colette came over and visited with us. That was really nice. I'm glad I "got her to myself" for a time. We laughed and remembered and laughed some more.

This is the Holiday Season. We all get more company this time of year. I know that I often get too preoccupied with fixing up the house and I don't let myself just enjoy my company's company. I hope to keep it in perspective today as we prepare. I'll try not to be an overbearing drill sgt.
Well, maybe just a little...

Some of my kiddos need more extreme measures to motivate than others. I bet youcan't guess which one - could it be the little boy ready for battle here on the left? - Nah - he's no trouble...he he he

Thank God he's such a cutie. It helps mom to forgive a LOT of mess-making, danger-causing, trouble on a daily basis. That's my boy!

Die Familie

"Die Familie" means "the family" in German. My sister Kelly married my brother-in-law Martin 11 years ago. (is it 11?) Seeing as he is a German citizen, they "set up shop" there. They have three beautiful children. Sarah, Toby, and Miriam.

I just got off the phone with them a moment ago. We miss them terribly! Our kids would love to be able to see and play with their cousins so much more. Tim and I love it when Kelly and Martin come to visit. They are one of the few (very few) couples we can really laugh with, talk with, and sometimes, argue with. They know us with all of our DEFECTS and still keep on lovin' us! Imagine that! They are more than family - they're friends!

We love you Our "Familie"!!

Merry Christmas

Well it's Christmas Day today! Mom and dad are here and Tim's stiring something on the stove. The kids are playing with Collin's gift from Santa - play dough and tools. My Italian cookies I made for last night's dinner were a hit. We went to mom and dad's for dinner with dad's side of the family.

Hopefully my upcoming entries will be uplifting and joyful. At the very least I hope them to be amusing. I hope to write NO MORE memorials for a while... Our family life will get back on track with schoolwork, cooking, cleaning, and plenty of laundry! There's always laundry to help make life seem "normal" again eh?

"Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" with John Candy and Steve Martin is on right now. We are all enjoying a reason to LAUGH!! It's nice to see mom (especially mom) laughing!! She needs it!

Patrick Maxwell

Patrick Maxwell died on December 18, 2006. He had just turned 51 on the 8th. Only weeks earlier he had lost his big brother (seen in this picture) to cancer. Michael was only 60.

I was completely shocked by the news of uncle Pat's death. Mom called me in the morning around 5:30am. She said "Kris, something very tragic has happened..." That's the perfect word for it - tragic. I had hoped that my uncle would be around for many many more years. He was a powerful influence on many people. He had the potential to lead so many by his humble example. He cannot do that now... and there in lies the tragedy.

My earliest memories of uncle Pat are the product of a fetish of mine. Anyone who knows me well, knows how I love to "groom" people. I like to do hair, rub lotion, give manicures, etc. Stephanie Maxwell can attest to the time I put into curling her hair (hours and hours... poor girl!) In this little "quirk" of mine lies my memory of uncle Pat.

Often I would spend the night at gram's house. (My love for her is a whole other story in itself) Gram would fix dinner and serve her two men (Pat and grandpa). After dinner, like clockwork, I'd say to my big burly uncle at the end of the table (the side nearest the sink) "Uncle Pat? Can I do your hair?" to which he'd respond "Sure, come over here. And you can rub my back too."

I'd gleefully skip off to the bathroom to collect my "supplies" and I'd set to work. I'd brush his hair. First this way, and then that way. I'd wet a comb and part it to the side. I'd brush his scraggley beard saying "I'm gonna smooth it out ok uncle Pat?" he'd respond with a "sure"

He said the word "sure" in a unique way. Those of you who knew him well KNOW what I'm talking about. He'd really curl his lips up and in a playful way say "sure". I can hear it! "sure" "sure" it's stuck in my mind!

Then, it was on to the back and neck. Or should I say the two walls of solid rock! My little hands couldn't massage that for the life of me! He was so tense from working all day that it seemed I wasn't even making a dent! But he'd give directions..."a little higher...to the right..."

I loved it! Every moment of it. Gram would be talking away to us as she cleaned up in the kitchen. Uncle Pat would interject here and there. It was glorious! In those moments I was special. I mattered. My little hands made a difference to somebody. It may seem silly but it adds up you know. Just sitting there for me and "going along" with my little girl ways. He didn't have to do that. But he was patient with me and all my hair brained ideas. That's how he loved me. He let me be a silly little girl who wanted to play with her uncle's bushy hair and beard.

My life took me "out of the loop" so to speak. After grandma died I didn't see uncle Pat very much. I was busy with college and then my own family and all that stuff. It's not really a very good excuse. I regret that. I was lucky enough to tell him as much though.

In uncle Mike's hospital room I was able to say, what it occurs to me were the last words I ever spoke to uncle Pat. Uncle Pat was sitting in the chair against the wall in uncle Mike's hospital room. I walked in and sat next to uncle Mike. I kissed him and told him how much I loved him. It was hard to see him so small and pale. But I wanted him to see my face. I wanted him to hear my voice saying "Uncle Mike I love you so much."

I stood up and turned my face away from him. I was crying and I didn't want him to see the tears on my cheeks. I looked straight at uncle Pat then, who sat directly opposite his brother. Uncle Pat looked back at me and his face was soft and full of compassion. So, I did something I should have done a thousand times over in the last 15 or 20 years - I threw my arms around his neck. As I hugged my uncle Pat, I said "I love you uncle Pat. And I'm sorry for being gone so much.." he tried to cut in with "it's ok Kris, don't worry..." but I continued "It's just that you take people for granted you know?" "Ive taken you for granted and I love you." He responded sympathetically "I know Kris, I know."

Well, God is good. He graced me twice that day. I was able to tell both my uncles how much I loved them. Now I need to live out the lesson learned. I will tell those I love that I love them. It's that simple.

Loved...Now Waiting...

I wait to see my loved ones again.

In the past 6 months I have lost many people whom I loved.

Allen Miller - my uncle and godfather.
Everett Maine - my grandfather
Vera Maine - my grandmother
George Falaney - my uncle
Michael Maxwell - my uncle
Joseph Burns - my priest and friend
Patrick Maxwell - my uncle

That's a lot of death. But, I choose to reflect on what they brought to my life, not the pain caused by their deaths. This helps me tremendously. Each one of the above named people had an impact on me and in some way, large or small, had a hand in making me the person I am today!

I add to that list others who have died...

Thomas Maxwell - my grandfather
Leona Maxwell - my grandmother
Mario Panici - family friend (and like a grandfather)
Bonnie Seaver - my aunt
Stanley Blunt - my husband's grandfather
Evelyn Carter - my husband's great grandmother

All these people deserve to be remembered! Each one was special to me - yes. But, they were special to countless others as well. Most importantly they were (and still are) infinitely special to God!

My goal is to write something about each one of them. My way of saying "Thanks for being just who you are - I love you."

Father Burns - My Spiritual Father

Father Joseph Burns died this morning of December 16, 2006. My mom called me right away to tell me the news. She had called late last night as well to let Tim and I know he was near death. We prayed and I cried - hard. This man was for me a powerful spiritual father - and I love him very very much. He will never be forgotten. I am forever changed, by knowing him.

Father Burns was more than my pastor. He was my friend. He was my advisor. He was my spiritual father. The pastor/parishioner relationship shifted dramatically into a father/daughter relationship when I needed him the most. You see, I was a young woman, (in some ways still a girl) who was pregnant and unmarried. I went to confession to my parish priest and exited the confessional with a spiritual father. He didn't let our relationship end with absolution but continued it throughout my pregnancy, loving me and guiding me all the time.

Those nine months were a tumultuous time of radical change for me, and Tim. Father Burns always sought the best for Morgan, still unborn, never letting his love for me cloud his focus. He wanted the best for my child! He didn't shy away from certain topics for fear of hurting my feelings or Tim's. There were times when he really "let us have it" so to speak. But, he always balanced his seriousness with compassion and humor.

Father Burns witnessed Tim and I exchange our vows on October 3, 1998. But his love and guidance didn't end there. There was many an occasion when I'd enter his confessional only to exit to an empty church. You see, I'd be in there so long that the others who stood waiting would give up and go home! I have to admit as well, that he and I would get a little "side-tracked" and often there'd be belts of laughter filling that little room! I can say this with confidence and with tremendous pride - Fr. Burns liked me! Now, that may sound quite arrogant or even childishly silly to some people. For me, knowing he liked me as a person was one of the highest compliments of my life!

This was a man who was educated, well-read, holy, dignified, passionate, witty, and most of all Christ-like. I respected, admired, and just plain adored him. I never wanted to dissappoint him and I always looked forward to making him smile or laugh. Many stories I'd tell him in great distress, he'd end up chuckling. One such story was of a particularly bad day I'd had at home with my kids. I tearfully explained to him the mischief and hijinks of these

"little people" (that's what he'd always refer to them as) which led me to a full fledged meltdown. In the course of this meltdown I told him "Father then, (sniffle sniffle) I told them 'pack your bags all of you. get your stuff together cause you're movin out!' Can you believe I said that father? "(sniffle sniffle looking down in shame and wiping nose with tissue) When I lifted my head to look at him what did I see? He was grinning from ear to ear and quietly chuckling while he said softly "Oh, Kris (chuckle chuckle) Oh Kris..."

So, we had many a giggle and a chuckle together and I loved those moments. Yet, the conversations which strike my heart with sorrow knowing there will be no more, are the serious ones. His words were spoken softly but they penetrated my heart and soul. He taught me about love - real love. He taught me about forgiveness - and letting go. He taught me about marriage - what it is and what it isn't. He taught me to be myself - "Kris, ask God this. Lord, make me the woman You want me to be." These lessons came from a whole range of topics we'd cover in our time together. We spoke of the poor in the world. He had a special love and affection for the poor. We spoke of injustice and what's a simple person to do about it. We spoke of men and women and their God-given differences. We spoke of family life and money and how we obsess too much over it - money that is. We spoke of abortion and unwed mothers and the best way to serve/support them. We spoke of the root causes of sin in the world today. We spoke - no maybe I should say - argued about politics together. He loved to try to convince me of his leanings and I him. As you can see our talks ran the gamut. This is true of so few people in my life! Mom, Tim, and Father Burns. My mother, my husband, and my priest.

Now, I am lost. Where will I find another like him? Why God did you take my priest? Couldn't You see how much I needed him? Couldn't You see how much this world needed him? Today, you rarely find a priest who is all man and also all God's. So many seem to deny their own God-given masculinity in an attempt to be more "sensitive" while others seem to be more interested in what the world thinks of them than what God thinks of them. Father Burns was neither. He embraced his role as man, as father. He new exactly how to lead with strength and conviction. He didn't bend which ever way the wind blew. He had a great sense of family life and men and women's roles. He loved women it seemed to me. He was a real advocate for mothers. But, he'd let you know that a hard working man derserves our respect and support as well!

Father Burns I love you. A couple of weeks ago my mom went up to see you. She told me of her plans to visit you and I told her to give you this message from me. "Tell him I'd love to kiss his face all over! - I miss him so much!" To which my mom responded "Are you crazy Kris, I'm not gonna tell him that!" I didn't think she'd go through with it considering I understood how some people might think that an inappropriate thing to say to a priest. You see, to me he was like a father - a spiritual father. And what little girl, who loves and adores her daddy dearly doesn't long to climb up into his lap and cover his face with little kisses. That is me - that little spiritual daughter of this great priest - Father Joseph Burns. Turns out mom did relay that message to him. I asked her what his response was and she said he just simply smiled.

A Letter to Uncle Mike

This letter was unread. With earthly eyes anyway. Uncle Mike was too weak to read it when I gave it to him.

I leave it here as a tribute to him...

Dear Uncle Mike,

It is a rare gift - the opportunity to reflect on one man and to consider how he has impacted you personally. I feel blessed to have this time to express to you all that fills my heart when I picture your face in front of me.

First, I smile.

I see you smiling or laughing or both. You are handsome and your eyes sparkle a little, especially when you're laughing. I can hear your voice in my head. It is loud and booming. I'm taken back to an overcrowed kitchen packed for the holidays with food, family, and friends. I'm a little girl and so I can't see anything but the backs of legs. But, I hear you. I know that joyful thunder - "that's uncle Mike" my little heart says and I know that you are good. This is my childhood image of you - handsome and laughing with a joyful thunderous voice.

Years passed and I grew. I came to know you more deeply, more quietly. I am grateful for this.

The quiet man I came to know over coffee, or at the dinner table. The man I asked to be my daughter's godfather. This man brought me even greater joy than the one I remembered from my childhood.

I see your face again. This time it's more serious. You are talking with me. You're listening too. I see us together at mom's dining room table. I'm holding a baby on my lap. You are leaning forward in your chair with your elbows resting on the table. Your hands are folded around your rosary. I love this image, this memory. I can close my eyes and see you exactly as you were in that moment. You're quiet, thinking, discussing and praying. This is my most fond memory of you. I can hear your voice. One petition at that table always stayed the same. "I'd like to pray for an end to abortion" you'd say. You'd say it every time, every time. I can hear your voice so clearly in my mind. Why is that? It's as if I can literally hear your voice outside myself - not in an interior way. That one moment, that one statement, is so vivid it leaps out at me. It is burned into my heart. It presses upon my heart until I can no longer bear it and I begin to cry. Now I cry. I weep. Why am I weeping? The injustice. It bothers me uncle Mike. It is difficult for me. It hurts and my pain is sorrow.

I am sorrowful for my sins, my lack of prayer, my luke warmness, my selfishness. All these have caused your cancer. I know that I am not solely responsible, but that is of no consolation to me. I have in my own way, through my own sins, caused these wounds in you. I am so sorry for this, my brother in Christ. I know that God is Good. I know Jesus is Love. So too then I know that this cancer did not come from Him, but from this sinful world of which I am a part. This is why I am so sorrowful.

You, my beloved uncle, my brother, have shown me Jesus. I see Him in you. I see Him in your simple goodness. I see Him in your humility and patience with others' faults. I see His face in your joy over a garden, or a home made meal, or good music. I see Him in these ways. Thank you for making Him present to me. Thank you for these glimpses. You empty yourself and He is there filling you up. You aren't perfect I know. I don't mean to embarrass you, but to fortify you. It is my hope that this testimony helps to sustain you in your pain and suffering. I see a man who hasn't forgotten that he is made in God's Holy Image. You have chosen to serve rather than be served, to give rather than receive, to love rather than count the hurts and disappointments.

I love you for this witness. You have taught me how to love people as they are. Where they are. Yet, to pray for them all the while. You pray for them to grow close to your Jesus. You seek to love, not judge. To demonstrate God's love, not moralize. You live your life as a witness to Christ without making others feel small in the process. This is the quality I admire most and will seek to duplicate in my own life. I will not be so quick to resent life's injustice. I will try to love others in the moment before me. I will seek out what is good in others and pray for them to become all that God wills them to be.

My third image of you is of you suffering with this ugly cancer. Yet, its ugliness hasn't tainted you. You are more beautiful to me now. I wish you were not suffering. I wish you had no more pain. I wish that I could take all of it away and make you well again. These are the thoughts that lead me to despair. Then, something wonderful happens. Jesus lets me see your beauty shining through it all. Though this image of you now is one of suffering, now I don't see just you. You are not alone. Jesus is with you. I see Him holding you. I see Him holding you in your suffering looking at you like only He can - because He knows. His shining face gleams as he smiles tenderly at you. He wipes away your tears and gently kisses your forehead as a father might do for his sick little boy. His heart is glowing softly. As you lean your head upon His chest for comfort, this glow fills your face. You are beautiful there leaning against Our Lord, Our God.

This is the image I see now. A man, yet a child of God. A man, yet a little soul letting Him care for you. Thse are the images I carry in my heart uncle. First, you are laughing and thunderous. Then, you are quiet and thoughtful. Finally, you are small and lovable.

I am so blessed to have you in my life. I love you as my uncle - yes. But I have grown to love you as a brother in Christ Jesus most of all!

-Kristan

Family at Uncle Mike's funeral lunch

Family at Uncle George's funeral lunch

• Ben and Stacey

Aunt Kathy and friends

Bob Maxwell Family and Uncle Tom and Aunt Ann
















Falaney brothers and their wives













Uncle Jim and Diane

Conner and Patrick

Caitlyn (sp?)