Looking in the Crystal Ball

There's a lot Joy and I still don't know about what is going to happen in the next few months, but for anyone interested, we do have some decisions made at least. So here's a rough timeline, if everything works out the way we think. It brings to mind the old line, "If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans." These should be worth a chuckle.

We hope to have heard back from any school still interested in me this week. Within the next couple weeks I will be flying out to visit Nigeria. We hope to have a final decision about where then or very shortly thereafter. So we'll stop being silent/coy/private in a few weeks.

Baby Lavinia arrives June 24 and we begin a frantic dash to get her passported and visad.

Early July we will move out of Ithaca and visit our families in California and Utah, blessing Lavinia in my parents' ward.

Late July or early August we leave for our grand, three year adventure.

I'm sorry we've been keeping rather quiet about things online. It's certainly not for lack of interest as we can find precious little else to talk about that is quite so engaging. Until a decision is made, though, we would rather not jinx anything. The places still on the table are each very interesting prospects that we are excited about and we'd love to tell you more ... soon. We just know we probably won't be in Ithaca for more than another 10 weeks.

Crying over spilled milk

When Joy was pumping milk for Hyrum, the process was long and took a lot out of her physically and emotionally. When even a drop of precious Mommymilk spilled, it was a traumatic experience. We learned a whole new side of the old saying "Don't cry over spilled milk."

I used to think it meant not crying over piddling things - what's a little milk? When milk is your child's lifeblood and comes at great cost to your beloved, milk is much more valuable. To a dairy farmer, milk might be your livelihood and the ability to feed your family and keep them warm. Milk is important!

But what is done is done. Crying won't change that fact. You just take your licks and move on.

We've had a lot of licks lately!

I was cleaning dishes 10ish days ago when a glass shattered into my pinky finger. I'm still getting all the infection out of it. It'll leave a scar.

I was putting in the rest of the storm windows Friday morning and put one on the other side of the baby gate. I stepped over the gate and put a 6 inch scrape in my leg on the storm window that bled much of the day. Though it's hurt for most of the last 3 days, at least I'm not limping.

Joy got a second degree burn on her elbow last night while making cookies for home and visiting teachees.

Joy has a cold sore.

We're all either getting rid of colds or trying to avoid them. This implies that I'm behind on my sleep and have been aching all over my body most of the last few days.

Hyrum has a terrible dieaper rash and doesn't want to sit anywhere. We think he's also getting ready for a growth spurt because he's been irritable as anything and not sleeping as well as usual (aka 8 hours isntead of 11).

Then today at church, we returned to the spilled milk. I got out of the car and spilled a cup of milk on my suit and the car ... just like happened last week ... TWICE ... when getting out of the car and when Hy dumped a cup on me and my seat while perched on my shoulders. Another cup fell from the pew when Joy moved something else and it burst open, so I ran to bathroom to get paper to wipe it up during the sacrament itself. We no sooner got home, but the third sippee cup of milk we brought for Hyrum burst open and spilled over the floor and Joy.

Oh, and then I dropped my lunch - chicken parmesan - on the floor next to the gargbage can.

And no, it doesn't help that the pioneers had it worse. No use crying over any of it, though. Just keep moving. "Clean it up. See if you can do better next time" Joy adds sagely. "Laugh when you write it down on your blog." Now I'm off to cook our stir fry.... Pray for it. Gravity is ag'in us.

Random Thoughts on Suffering

Today for part of church some of us debated the existence of trials and challenges. My mind turned to Brother Brigham, second president of the Church. For a man who is as firm and straightforward as he, he does seem to come down on both sides of the issue:

"As to trials, why bless your hearts,
the man or woman who enjoys
the spirit of our religion has no trials..."

"The people of the Most High God
must be tried. It is written that
they will be tried in all things..."

"We are now in a day of trial ..."

"If the Saints could realize things as they are
when they are called to pass through trials,
and to suffer what they call sacrifices,
they would acknowledge them to be
the greatest blessings that could be bestowed upon them."

These and many more excellent words of wisdom are here.

We did reach agreement at any rate that we pass through suffering. And one of the blessings of this suffering is the gaining of something called empathy. The example given was that when you break your foot, you learn to have empathy the next time you see someone with crutches.

I've been thinking about this empathy thing over the last few weeks. It seems that we, many of us humans anyway, do a good job convincing ourselves that we are so thoroughly unique and individual that no one has ever suffered or gone through what we do. Though prominent among teens, turning twenty does not remedy the opinion. We therefore only accept counsel or pity or acknowledge the suffering of someone who has suffered sufficiently similarly to us.

"No one knows my pain." Folks who have waited a long time to find their eternal companion (or to have a child or to graduate or to ...) discount the pain of those who had to wait less for those blessings. My sense of loneliness and not-belonging is greater than yours. My psychosis is bigger than yours. It's a perpetual game of Topper. Yet "charity suffereth long" and despite suffering a long time "envieth not and is not puffed up" - charity neither longs to exchange crosses nor is it proud because my cross is bigger than yours... charity doesn't compare crosses at all.

Even if trials are not universal, suffering is. We all suffer. Some more visibly, some more vocally, but all of us do. Why don't we a) accept others' suffering empathy or b) apply our suffering to others better?

J.K. Rowling had some wonderful things to say on the subject at Harvard's commencement 2008 (here's my summary, the original link is missing now). She started off, "I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates." She then goes on to discuss why we need imagination: it's not just for bedtime stories of wizards, but "it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared."

So the question for the night as I get ready for bed, is: Is common suffering enough? Can we learn to accept another person's love and concern simply by virtue of their having suffered something else? Can we learn to empathize with others to say, "No, I don't know precisely what you are going through; but I know what it is to hurt, and I join you in that pain"? In short, to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, not just those who mourn the way we have mourned.

And it is ... GONE

"I never would have believed I could lose weight so fast!"

That testimonial from Joy reflects our delight with the South Beach Diet. Today, very officially, Joy is below the weight she was the first time she went in to her OBGYN pregnant. She is at her pre-pregnancy weight!

"I was starting to feel that I was never going to lose the weight, like it was a permanent part of who I am."

This is a thought I know all too well. My ambition in life was to hold the line and be happy remaining there. I was thrilled to finally get below 10 pounds for every year I was old because I got older (I've been tracking that more or less since I was 5 years and 50 pounds).

"Wow. That's crazy, Derrill. Glad we broke the cycle."

Since early June, Joy has lost almost 15 pounds. That was after a largely ineffectual and very painful first two weeks when her metabolism, taste buds, and carb cravings really did reset as the book claimed. "But it took almost two whole weeks to do it." She's been dropping about 2 pounds a week on average.

Since early May, Derrill has lost 25 pounds, after a gloriously successful first two weeks of 10 pounds. So I've also been dropping almost 2 pounds a week since the diet phase.

We've been asked a number of times if we're still "on a diet." We're on a lifestyle, yes. We can't eat everything we might like indiscriminately. We have a theory you don't either. "But we have taken a couple of days off the diet," which is even approved and encouraged to keep your sanity up. The guy just encouraged people to know what constitutes breaking and how to get back on your lifestyle.

"We've enjoyed finding desserts that work with the diet" - pound cake, cheesecake, sweetened riccotta cheese (which is the filling for cannolies), pudding, peanut M&Ms, Snickers. It's been easier to get our fruits and vegetables in every day and we're actually fairly glad to eat less meat than we were doing for our nutritionist the last two years.

The real change is carbs. We have a little whole wheat bread, pita pizza, or pasta each day and really enjoy it. "My OBGYN suggested I go down to 1 grain a day when I was pregnant with Hy and I thought he was insane. But because of his suggestion, I figured that this diet would be healthy even some day when I get pregnant again." We've discovered that we don't really need a bunch of grains to fill up, while before the mashed potatoes and rice were a large part of what made the meal feel filling. "We find ways to work in our favorite foods so that it can be a lifestyle. We found your taste buds really change when you go to only one grain a day. Our fruits taste sweeter, our breads taste sweeter, and Joy - have a cow - likes dark chocolate!"

While in DC, I went off the lifestyle for a couple days since it would have been very difficult to follow and enjoyed a small pizza as well as the sandwiches they were giving me. Then I got back on track, and I've lost what I gained as a result. "I think your family is going to notice a real difference when they get here in two weeks. 25 pounds."

"When we read people's success stories in the book, we were like, 'yeah, right, whatever. No craving for carbs??' But I had misunderstood the word 'craving.' It means painfully in need of, like being addicted." Joy and I had very different experiences in those first two weeks, which is why I didn't think it made much difference. I just wasn't as addicted, probably thanks to earlier summers with Mr. Atkins. "I still like my breads. I often still think of them first. But I don't feel like I'm going to die because I don't eat them for every meal. I feel I can eat as much of the good food I want - guilt free - and not have to go hungry, and the breads are just a nice addition."

There is a third phase to the diet where we get to add a bit more grain to something closer resembling normal, but we'll get there once we've reached our ideal weights.

So we are rapidly becoming South Beach converts. It's been kind of fun as we were doing it to discover who else in the branch is converted. Who would've imagined this was even possible?? "Now is the day of our weight loss. We shall rejoice and be glad therein."

(PS - Derrill would encourage all the silent ladies who read this blog for Hyrum to pretend this is a woman's blog and actually make comments congratulating Joy. I have this theory I get fewer comments than my fellow blogging spouses because I'm a guy.)

Hyrum vs. Chanch

Other blog post titles include: "Why I stay up so late at night" and "Episode 6: Return of the Baby Fat"

Time for a hat tip. My old mission companion and golden (aka greenie), Mike Baker, got married and had a baby just before we did. They affectionately nicnamed him: The Chanch. This was him at one month.Quoting from their blog:
--------------------------------
for those of you who don't know; that is in reference to the extremely chubby kid who loans Jack Black some stretchy pants; I know-Mike and I fully realise that we might have to pay for counseling later-but look at those cheeks. Can you blame us?
... Sadly, the only language that he is fluent in is wookie. Mike and I have done some frantic perusing of the old episodes in an attempt to communicate with him, but so far all we have really figured out is that most of the time he is saying "Mom I'm starving, I'm starving, I'm starving!"
---------------------------------
Regularly, their blog (featured on the right) refers to the Chanch's struggles with life. It's tough being a baby, y'know? Chanch vs. Pears; Chanch vs. Swings; Chanch vs. The Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy (j/k); and so forth. Hence tonight's blog titles.

Hyrum has had a real struggle to be where he should be. Joy has even more. The blessed lot of fatherhood has been to struggle with them.





Hyrum was born at about the 33rd percentile for weight and the 88th for height. Tall and slim. There was just one problem...











He would NOT eat. He would scream murder and the veins pop out of his head when we offered. This was psychologically shattering.











He lost more than 15% of his weight before we got him home. Regular readers will remember we started feeding him by syringe then. This was not particularly fun, but it was a LOT better than the alternative. By that time he was at the 6th percentile for his weight.






Well, that worked for a while. His weight stabilized and started going up. The docs took us off emergency status as he went back up to the 8-9 percentile.









He continued growing. His ribs disappeared. He started getting a teeny tummy. He got up to 8 pounds! Finally, a pound above his birth weight, after two distraught months. We were very happy.

Until we visited the doctor again and learned he was NOT keeping up with the other kids. He was at ... the 0.96 percentile for weight. And his height had not kept up either: from 88th percentile to 15th!


That's when I started staying up until 2-5 in the morning to work on the second chapter of my dissertation ... and to feed Hyrum. This lets Joy sleep through the night (mostly), and lets him Chunk Up.

This bathtub pic was taken a month ago at 10 pounds and 5th percentile.

Two weeks ago at our doctor's visit, he was 12.5 pounds and 15th percentile. The doc told us we could ease up finally since his weight had caught up with his last measured height. We don't have to wake him for a midnight feeding ... except that if we don't, he wakes us up for a 4am feeding, and so we're still being a little preemptive. We'll test him out again without the midnight feeding this week while I'm in DC.

If he has maintained his previous rate of growth, he should weigh between 13 and 13.5 pounds now. That would be somewhere around the 25th percentile. He's outgrown I think all of his newborn clothes because he's too tall (at 4 mo.) and Joy brought out the rest of his 3-6 and some 6-9 mo. clothes to try on.

I have never been so thankful to see a chubby cheek or a second chin in my life. It means hope. It means growth. It means life.
Of course, a lot still depends on the camera angle. But there is no question that he is a happier, heftier, healthier baby. I cry with gratitude tonight for Joy's sacrifices and efforts, and the multiple doctors it has taken to figure out how in the World to get him eat.

It still takes sacrifices and effort and near-perpetual adjustment. But I'm so thankful for my sweet little baby who I love so dearly and my tough as nails wife who has never given up, no matter how hard it was. Thank you, my Queen. I only wish I could do more. Thank you, God, for seeing us through.

And now it's time to fetch and feed my son before joining my wife in slumber.

Medela: a pump by any other name would not pump so well.

Any mother wants what is best for their baby and if you have followed our posts in the past you will know that feeding our baby has been somewhat of a struggle. That struggle has been very personal for me and I have not wanted to share things until I have overcome them at times or at lest until I have overcome some of it. Derrill has been sensitive to my feelings as he has written his blogs and I appreciate it.

So, I know that some of my feeding issues come from when I was a kid and we ran of food on a monthly basis. I made promises to myself back then that only a child thinks that they can keep (ones that do not admit to being imperfect and human). I promised myself that my children would never go hungry and I should have made the adendem and now do of they will never go hungry if I can help it (which consists of prior knowledge).

I have been pretty obsessed with this feeding stuff for Hyrum and along with the move last week, I have had a hard time getting to anything else including this post that I have wanted to write for a couple of weeks. I have decided that having children not only reminds you that you are human, but it also helps you to learn to accept that humanness as you learn how to survive and hopefully enjoy their wonderful presence in life.

Derrill mentioned that we have the feeding things taken care of and that Hyrum is doing well. He is doing well and we have no more reason to panic, but from my stand point (and believe me my husband empathizes) feeding is not optimal yet.

Back when Hyrum was still under 3% weight the doctor asked me to start feeding him every 2 hours again. Nursing at that time was going just fine only he was down to 5 feedings a day and was not waking up at night for a feeding. I figured he would wake up if he needed food and was before that visit feeling good for the first time about the feeding process. After that doctor visit I started waking him and expecting him to eat every two hours. Well, he began refusing to feed again. By this time he was 2 months old and I was still in panic mode or in it again and he had just reverted back to screaming and/or falling asleep at feeding time. My heart just couldn’t take it knowing that after 2 full months he was not getting what he needed and now nothing at all. So I made the decision to quit breastfeeding. It was a tough decision, but when I was in church the next Sunday I felt the spirit very strong that this was the way things were meant to be and I know that I have tried my hardest.

I decided that day that I was going to pump and feed him completely by bottle. I am grateful that so far he has not needed to have formula, but I did have a little glitch in the last month. I was using a pump from Learning Curves called First Years. This pump was not made for a mother pumping all the time for a long time. It lost momemtum and then stopped pumping by half what I was pumping before. I really freaked. I am now back to a rented hospital grade pump from Medela and my milk production is going up again for which I am very grateful, but it takes a few days and I will feel much better once I start making more than he is eating.

One of Hyrum‘s little quirks is that he falls asleep when he is impatient. He will sometimes cry for only a few minutes when he is hungry and then go back to sleep. This made it difficult for me to tell when he was hungry. I have finally figured out that part and if I can’t get right to him I will wake him up to feed him.

I am so grateful that I understand him better now and that he is happy after eating again. I am also grateful that I am able to feed my sweet Hyrum. I don’t know how long I will be able to feed him breast milk in this way, but I will as long as I can. He gained 19 oz in the first week and then 18 oz in the next weeks. The doctor said that his weight gain will even out when he is done catching up. Thank you for all of you prayers and so many here that have helped with our move and since with Hyrum so that I could do unpacking. Pumping and taking care of him sure take a lot of time (sometimes I pump every 45 min for 5 min, and other time every 2 hours for 15), but it is all worth it when he laughs and smiles. He is such a sweet little boy and I am so glad that we have him in our home.

Gaining Weight

I haven't had the heart to write this post until now, since the emergencies with our baby appear to be over at present. It has been several days of real panic.

Sunday we found what we thought was blood in our babies diaper. Along with the fact that he just hadn't been eating enough to keep a bird alive this really was more than I could take and I wept much. We decided that we should give Hyrum a blessing and invited a neighbor, Michael, over to help Derrill give the priesthood blessing. We did receive some measure of comfort from the blessing. Derrill's mother suggested we call her brother Sherm who has worked in a Neo-natal unit and is a family practice doctor. When we called Sherm he said that the orange spots in his diaper where normal, called brick dust, and that they would go away (later we found out they are more normal for an infant that is dehydrated).

Sherm also talked to us about feeding our baby and suggested that we visit with a lactation consultant. He said that we needed to get 10 oz of milk into our baby a day. He also suggested that some things that would help me relax for trying to nurse and to use a warm cloth for 5 minutes before feedings. Additionally a good friend, Marcy suggested somethings that have been very helpful.

So armed with new advise, I was able to get Hyrum to nurse for 4 to 5 feedings before we saw the Pediatrician on Monday. I had been somewhat relieved by his starting to nurse. We set up a schedule and time for me to get done with feedings (so they wouldn't last 2 hours anymore).

Then we went to the Pediatrician and found out that Hyrum had lost at least 15% of his birth weight. A parent should be worried if the baby looses 10%. We discussed feeding options with the doctor and he suggested I see a lactation consultant also. I spoke to the lactation consultant on the phone and made an appointment to see her the next day.

PLAN: We would feed him mother milk from a syringe and pump 10 times a day, by Wednesday if he had not gained at least 2 oz then we would start to suppliment with formula, and if he hadn't gained any by Friday it would be the hospital and IV fluids for him. I was somewhat panicked and therefore fed him every two hours trying to get more than 10 feedings a day.

The visit with the lactation consultant went well and we rented a hospital type pump so that we could more efficiently extract mother's milk.

Wednesday we went in to see the doctor and happy day our baby had gained 7 oz in the two days that had past. I was so relieved! There is more to do, I still have the goal of breast feeding him, which is not happening at present. But I feel very happy with his health and that things are going in the right direction. Heavenly Father has been so good to us. I am so grateful for our sweet little one and have faith that things will continue to improve.

Starring: Hyrum I

A quick word of explanation why this first video is so cool. Hyrum had not yet eaten at the hospital, and it was 48 hours since he was born. After another frustrating attempt of constant screaming, I went out to the nurse and asked her when they were going to rush in with an IV pack (only I didn't put it that way). She said it was borderline. So Joy and I had a difficult conversation, and with a new steel in her eyes that the nurses noticed, Joy began a battle campaign that lasted ALL NIGHT and into the morning until about 10am with Hyrum.

Finally, at long last, he nursed. This was the video of a happy, fed Hyrum for the first time. We were so thrilled and happy.


The second video is just cool because it was his first night on earth and he looks so adorable.

Baby Heroin

To briefly explain Joy's last couple posts: Hyrum does not like to feed. He has been a very hungry baby, and therefore a very unhappy baby when it's feeding time. VERY unhappy. Then one night, Joy came down with a solemn look on her face and asked if I had strong objections to giving him a pacifier. Well, no, I assume that all babies end up with one [though my mother tells me I didn't ever get one] and then you work on weaning them off that at a later time, but the peace it buys now is worth the deferred pain.

He LOVED it. He quieted down and baby-smiled at once.

When it fell out, I popped it back in because he started to cry. When he cried after having had it for only two minutes, I began to worry.

When it fell out the second time, I popped it back in and he put up one hand to keep it held in. I commented to Joy that I hadn't realized just how addictive binkies are. They're Baby Heroin! Joy of course already knew this and told me that was why she was so serious when she asked if I thought it was a good idea. Well.

When it fell out the third time, I stuck it in his hand and guided it into his mouth. He slapped both hands over it to hold it in. This being 2 in the morning, Joy and I doubled over laughing and I managed to get the picture before sleep overpowered him and it fell out again, without being noticed.


We were gratified in the next two days that he sometimes spat the bink out, and that he still liked our company and fingers even after discovering nirvana. The baby doc has since told us to ixnay the acifierpay to avoid ipplenay confusion [gotta watch the censors, who I hope don't mind mentioning heroin], and he hasn't minded.

We're really glad we did it because it strengthened his feeding reflex, and we feel it gave him some confidence. He has fed better since we gave it to him.

Sunrise

A little over ten years ago I was in the Missionary Training Center getting ready to go to the former East Germany. On one particular morning (6 am), I woke up groggy and stiff while my 'roommates' were dancing and shouting and carrying on. When I grumbled or something, they commented very smugly that I was clearly not "a morning person."

That didn't help.

I left to go collect myself. I went over to the stairwell that had a large window where I usually went to practice my singing (good echoes). It was still a dark purple morning and I began singing "I Need Thee Every Hour." As I finished, I saw one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. Against the dark sky, a thin group of clouds suddenly lit up a brilliant rosy pink. Its brilliance overcame the fact that those aren't my usual colors. I stayed watching it for about 5 minutes until the effect faded away with the gradual lightening of the sky.

Then I started thinking about it. In the part of town I could see from our upper floor, no lights were on. Most everyone there was still asleep. There might have been only two or three other people in all the world who got to see that particular glorious shining, and I was one of them. It felt very much like the hand of God reaching out to tell me it's alright, to calm my soul, and help me find peace. Whenever I am reminded of Elder Bednar's talk on tender mercies, that's the first image that always comes to mind.

I've been thinking about that the last couple days. It's been a very difficult few months, and I've needed to reach out and rely more and more on God to reassure me in those things I cannot see or control. And on those days when I manage to reach out in faith without fear, the reassurances of the Spirit seem particularly beautiful. Like a beacon of hope against a darkened sky. They testify that the day will dawn and give me the strength to go on just a little bit farther. No matter how dark our Friday, Sunday will come.

One month and counting

There are two things I refer to in the title. The first is that Hyrum is due sometime in the next month. The second is that a month has passed since my interviews in New Orleans.

Hyrum's official due date is March 10. But we all know that doctors lie to us. First children are regularly "late" which means they tell us the wrong expected due date! But Mar 10 is the official expectation, a mere 39 days away now. So, if you care to, please vote when you think he will come. (The reference in the poll to being his father's son means two things: one is that he'd be an April Fool, and that fits me well enough; the other is that I was born after a 10 month pregnancy, and by that point we're gettin pretty late.)

I had 6-7 interviews in New Orleans, depending on how you count them, and so far I've heard back from half of the employers ... in the negative. So I'm still waiting on the University of Denver at Colorado, Oklahoma State University (my advisor's alma mater), and the Miami University ... at Oxford ... in Ohio. I would be really happy at any of these, I believe, and each has particular attractions.

In general, I'm doing pretty well at the waiting game. But at night, right as I'm preparing for bed, the worry monster does creep up and hit my stomach because no one has called today yet. So I might as well have some fun with it and ask everyone's opinion of where we'll end up. For fun too, I've been singing "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go" with slightly amended lyrics:

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,
Over mountain (UCD) or plain (OSU) or Miami.

Being risk averse, we've also started applying to some additional places for the second econ job market, so we could still end up pretty much anywhere. Cast your votes!

Monk and the Peg leg

So, the car saga goes on. We love our car don't get me wrong, we are very glad that we bought Monk. It is just that a couple days after we bought him his front driver's wheel started going flat for no reason (thus the peg leg). So we filled him up with air and 24 hours later there was no pressure in the tire.

Our dealer has been really great about things that aren't working right in our car. For example, the other thing that kinda went wrong from the get go was that when I put in the first tape into the tape deck it go stuck which also stopped that auxilary CD player in the trunk not to work. Therefore we were already planning on going back to the dealership in Vestal..... an hour away to get the radio repaired or replaced.

With the radio repair and the peg leg we figured we would just get them both fixed at the same time. Derrill expertly put our spare tire on the car. The spare is suppose to be Herculian, meaning it can drive at 65 miles an hour and should last 3,000 miles. So I drove Monk down to the dealer, they replaced the radio (it works like a charm now) but the peg leg is not fixed.

The guy at the dealer tried to find the leak, but spent hours on it and didn't find a thing. He even thought maybe our tire gauge was faulty, but it was not and we did have a totally flat tire two day in a row (to the visible eye). So in an effort to fix it without finding the real problem, they reinforced the normal places that the tire would have a leak, replaced the valve and sealed the beads (that is all fancy talk for half of what I don't know). So I went trucking on home. Thankfully the tire was a little better. It took two days to go flat (or at least register below 20 lb s).

We were willing to just buy a new tire here an get it over with, but we did tell the dealer we would call if there were any continuing problems with the tire, so we called and they offered to give us two new tires for the front of our car. Alright we will drive down to Vestal yet again (4 times in the last two weeks) for two new tires for free. It makes the gas seem not too expensive. We are very thankful that the dealer we bought our car through is so determined to make sure that our car is what they said it is.