Easy Peasy Discipline?

If you're new around here, meet "Fudge." Yes, as in "Super Fudge" and yes, that is my kid, on vacation in Aruba of all places, totally rolling his eyes at me. He's 6, curious, precocious, active, and smart as a whip. What's a girl to do?

Well, this girl is tired...as in slap-worn-out-tired. I work full time, I am "Mama" full time, and in between, like most of you, I need to somehow squeeze in being wife, daughter, sister, friend, teacher, household CEO, planner of the menus, shopper of the groceries, laundry maven, swagger wagon driver, family vet, gardener, and the list goes on, and on, and on. What? I missed posting "maid" too? Have you seen my house? I cannot even claim that title these days. We're a few messes short of a guest spot on Hoarders here, people- keep up!

So what's a girl to do when she realizes she got "the curse that works"? Not heard that one before? It's when your mom/dad said to you sometime in adolescence, "when you are grown I hope you have a child just like YOU." And you, in all of your adolescent glory and total knowledge (because you were the resident expert on EVERYTHING) replied in the sassiest voice you could get away with, "GREAT, I'd love one JUST LIKE ME!". I don't know if I got just like me, or even more challenging, just like me with my brother's mischievous nature and NO FEAR approach to life added in. Are we seeing a correlation here between the month my child turned two and our kitchen renovation including a bar and huge wine rack? Coincidence? No, no...I don't think so.

Now that you know we keep the wine section of Trader Joe's in business despite the downturn in the economy and limited discretionary spending, you also need to know that I am tired of struggling for power. Really, I am over it. The bottom line is free will and choice- I may be able to coerce my child to behave in a desired way, but at the root of the issue, what I really desire is for him to have the freedom to choose to conduct himself in an acceptable manner. I promise, I'll post on the cool things we've been doing and how it's worked, but right now, am more interested in where we are headed.

So a friend I have never met (lovely story for another post) mentioned that she was reading a particular parenting book and it intrigued me. As in no-more-power-struggles-? intrigued me. That is when I finally gave in to Kindle (seriously $9.99 for the Kindle version or $16.99 for the real book, plus shipping costs, plus having to wait for it to be delivered?). Yeah, I broke my I-love-a-book-in-my-hand rule and downloaded the Kindle app. to the iPad 2 my brother generously gave me as a Christmas gift, when they came out this past April. I digress...Kindle, right...we're all on the same page now? Ha- pun discovered and semi-intended.

Instant gratification of the e-book and I read all 185 pages between Fudge getting off the bus yesterday afternoon and my head hitting the pillow last night. Quick, easy read and I KNEW I'd have an opportunity to put the theory to the test in no time. What theory? Well, the basic premise is this- our kids have choices. We help them recognize the best ones, but more importantly we EQUIP them to problem solve from a young age. No helicopter parenting! No struggling for control, and no being upset/impacted by a lousy choice. Focus of our speech is also on what we are going to do. And all of this rolls into nurturing a "heart connection" with our child.

For example, in the past I would have said, "Fudge, please clean up your toys in the front room. I need some office space back...blah, blah, blah." Fudge, of course, has no desire to clean up the mess, so he ignores it. I nag, he ignores, I get angry, he ignores, and somehow we have a battle of wills of cleaning up the office where I am now threatening, punishing, etc. The toys may finally get picked up, but with way too much drama and emotional energy expended. What did I really need to do? Focus on my actions and remain a calm, happy parent while offering choices.
Sound too good to be true? I thought it was, but what did I have to lose? I put it to the test. This evening I told Fudge, "I am getting ready to do some major cleaning in the office. Any toys I find after next Sunday will be packed up, sold, or given away- it's your choice what you leave in there and what you put away upstairs." Now, you can't say it with an attitude- it really needs to be in the tone of sweetness and love. Wow, suddenly I have a happy helper, interested in doing some major sorting and cleaning. No nagging, no threats, etc. And Fudge has a choice to clean up or to let me clean up and decide what happens with all of that stuff. Whatever he decides, it's his choice to make, and either way, I get a cleaner office. We have positive and negative consequences for each choice we make, every day, in our lives.

I tried a similar approach this morning...we are already getting into the being pokey in the morning, then missing the bus routine. I saw the signs of it this morning and I told Fudge with plenty of warning that, "If you miss the bus, you'll need to figure out how to get to school." Really, it was said so nicely. Fudge looked at me like I was smoking something. He remained pokey, and no surprise, missed the bus. I didn't say a word. In my mind, I approached it as "not my problem."
The rest went something like this:

Fudge: "I need to get to school."
Me: "MmmHmm"
Fudge: "I need to get there!"
Me: "So how are you going to do that?"
Fudge: "Well, I can't walk by myself. It's too far and not safe."
Me: "I agree."
Fudge: "Can you drive me please? I don't want to be tardy."
Me: "Hmm...want some help thinking through this?"
Fudge: "Yes, please."
Me: "Well, I suppose I could drive you, but that is like a taxi service, huh?"
Fudge: "Uh...yes..."
Me: "I guess you could hire me for ride."
Fudge: "Ok...how much?"
Me: "I get $5 for the first taxi ride, and I add $5 for each time the bus is missed taxi ride. So today, is $5. But if you miss the bus on Monday it's $10, time after that is $15, well, you know how to count by fives."
Fudge: "Ok, $5 then."
Me: "Super, I'll get my keys."

No screaming "Oh my gosh, you missed the bus AGAIN!" No yelling to hurry up and get teeth brushed, shoes tied, backpack on, etc. Nope- I was calm and cool as he dallied this morning. To be fair, I reminded Fudge that if he missed the bus, he'd need to figure out how to get to school. He decided to call my cards and see if I was bluffing. I was not- and that's another key, you have to follow through.

So, this afternoon when Fudge got home I greeted him as I always do- a big hug and kiss and "how was your day?" And this was followed by, "Now about that $5, I take cash or coin. Of course, if you don't have $5, I am sure we could find a toy to sell for the $5- it's your choice, however you want to come up with the money." Again, sweet tone and he looked at me like I was INSANE, but didn't say a word. Fudge disappeared upstairs and I heard the piggy bank rattling.

He returned downstairs with a handful of coins. We counted them together and got up to $1.78, then I assisted him with the math on how much more he needed to come up with. Fudge went back to his room and came back with more change, which he had to count. He got the total up to $3.78 and was still short, this time by $1.22. When I mentioned I saw a couple of dollar bills on his bookshelf he indignantly declared, "That's Tooth Fairy money!" I just said, "oh, ok...well, you are a smart boy and I know you can figure this out. Let me know if you need help."

Fudge disappeared one more time and returned with a dollar bill and 22 pennies that he had counted out, bringing us to full $5. What really made my heart soar is when he gave it over willingly, without an attitude. I even said, "oh, I thought that was Tooth Fairy money?" to which he replied, "yeah, but it's just a dollar and I am the one who missed the bus and I agreed to pay for my ride like we said. I can earn more dollars." PROUD MAMA MOMENT HERE- but wait, it gets better.

I thanked Fudge for the $5. It would have been less painful for me and easier for him if I'd said, "The $5? Don't worry about that- I call grace." And had I said that, I'd find myself nagging week after week about hurry up, don't miss the bus, and I'd be driving him to school again, and again, and again. I stuck to our arrangement and here's what else I got...

I asked Fudge if he learned anything from this morning, and he CHEERFULLY (again, shocking) said, "Yes. I need to choose to not be pokey in the morning, so that I can get the bus on time, and I won't have to pay a taxi." We'll see how the coming weeks go, but I know one thing- Fudge thought about his actions, his choices, and the consequences. He problem-solved and he kept his commitment. Fudge experienced that we choose our consequences and he decided that moving forward he chooses to not be pokey in the morning and to be ready for the bus. Nagging would have never gotten us there! Yelling, threats, and stress would not have gotten us to that revelation. Instead, I peacefully gave Fudge the space to be responsible for his choices and the outcome was beautiful. I know it won't always work this smoothly, but for today, in this moment, I call victory and amen!

Children's Hospital: Take 2

Apologies in advance that our friends/family are learning about this via our blog- we're exhausted and have not had a chance to call anyone besides my parents.

So, when I said in my previous post that we are so thankful for this hospital, it did not mean I wanted to require their services anytime soon! C, of course, had other plans...or at least his little body did. He woke up at 3:30am screaming in pain, completely inconsolable. All we could get out of him was his neck hurt, his head hurt, and we saw that he could not move his head. When he wasn't making any improvement and could not be calmed, I knew we were in trouble. Of course, it didn't help that I just read a parenting article on menningitis the other day either.

We decided since C was still vocal (screaming) and there wasn't any blood involved, we'd head back to CHKD since we've not been impressed with our local ERs and our "doc-in-the-box" office we love for after hours care is not open in the middle of the night. Off to CHKD we went, thankful for no traffic due to the time of night and that we knew the drill...where to park, where to go, etc. C was immediately triaged and admitted in the emergency department.

I'll save you all of the details (I'm too tired to go through them), but we got to see lots of docs and they systematically ruled out some pretty scary things (menningitis, tumor, aneurysm, migraine, etc.) and figured out that the poor child sprained his neck. Who knew? Evidently, "active kids" can sustain a muscle injury, shake it off/not mention it, go to bed where they are immobile for hours and then the muscle contractions set in and spasm (torticollis). So think of the worse "crick" in your neck, or throwing your back out, and that is what this is like. In C's case, it's keeping him from being able to turn his head or lift his chin from his chest and left shoulder.

The good news is we went from screaming and being inconsolable, with pain all over his head, neck, and shoulders, to getting some relief with pain meds and muscle relaxers.

About five hours after all of this started- no longer screaming

Totally high on Valium- there's a smile

C has been released and we are back home; he is resting. He is still having pain, but we are seeing improvement. He is on the pain meds and Valium for the next 48 hours, no activity, and we are to see his pediatrician tomorrow for follow-up. For our prayer warriors out there, please pray for continued pain management/control and healing of those little muscles/regaining a range of motion in his head and neck.

He must be feeling a little better- he finally wants something to eat and has asked if we'd make an exception for McDonald's...I think that can be arranged. :)

Children's Hospital

My child was EXCITED to learn he was going to the hospital this week. Not just happy or giddy, but slap-your-mama excited. His sweet little face peered over my bedcovers around 7am, already bright-eyed awake and dressed. How disappointed he was to be reminded that his appointment was not for another 7 hours. It has been a couple of weeks since our last ENT visit and this visit was a 2 month follow-up from our last plastics visit. If you're now lost, the back story is here.

C was thrilled when I picked him up from school and we set out on our adventure. From taking a bridge-tunnel (really, people, the tunnel will not swallow you whole; enough with the brakes!) to navigating in the city, parking in the garage, figuring out how to get from the garage to the hospital, checking in, pushing the elevator buttons, getting our parking validated (once a city girl, always...), and having his run of the place. Here are our highlights...

Being sweet in the waiting room

C took this photo of one of the wall murals

Practicing our states and capitals

Having fun

Making faces for the surgeon

Love that toothless grin!

You can't see them, but this man has angel wings!

Looking out of the 5th floor "crown" and enjoying a sucker

Playing in the lighthouse

King of the castle

Not quite ready to head home

Playing on the lawn before leaving, after cafeteria pudding of course

The FANTASTIC news is that C is healing beautifully. The scar from 70+ sutures is fading and looks even remarkably better than 2 months ago. We continue to hear, and know, how blessed we are that C is coming through this unscathed: no impact to his vision and full facial muscle control is regained. His surgeon kept remarking how pleased he was, especially considering all that could have gone wrong, a hair one way or the other...feeling abundantly blessed and thankful for such talented medical care and the healing C has experienced. And I cannot talk about this place without saying please, support your local Children's Hospital. You know it's one special place when kids get excited to go to the hospital!

Alternate Plans

When I decided to take this week off to have some more adventures with C, I asked the hubs to take one day off so we could all go to the beach together. So we picked today, M was finally able to get the time off, and we were preparing for a day at the beach. The kind of day at the beach where you leave early in the morning, stake out a good spot, and enjoying frolicking in the ocean all day. Great plan, except it does not account for your child waking up with an upset stomach...and being ill past noon. With each of C's runs to the bathroom, my dreams of our beach day slowly faded. I felt terrible for C, I felt terrible for M wasting a day off work, and I was frustrated that a beautiful day was going down the tubes. Seriously, it's the most gorgeous day we've had all summer- lower temps, lower humidity, and a steady, balmy breeze.

Sometime after noon, C decided he was ready to venture out, but he did not want to go all the way to the beach. At least we were getting out of the house, and I could live with that. Once we got past the whining of "why can't I bring a friend?" and "because Mama does not want to be responsible for another kid's life in a large body of water," we packed up and got on the road. Sometimes we lay out the best plans, only to have them changed unexpectedly and given something even greater in return. God is so cool like that.

We arrived at the river beach we had decided to visit, to find that the spot we located was completely uninhabited...except for another family who arrived at the same time as us...who were hiking to the same secluded spot as us...who had one little boy with them. C has never met a stranger and walked up to the boy to say, "Hi, I'm C. Want to be friends?" And the rest was history. We spent all afternoon/evening here, the boys playing, swimming, fishing and crabbing- completely wore C out, which is hard to do!

C and his new friend fishing- caught some catfish and one croaker.

C has no fear- just jumped in and kept on going.

I found a shark's tooth!

One happy boy

We made it!

More fishing

And more fishing

And yet more fishing!

View from the cliff- we hiked down to this beach, then over to the left (out of picture) to a secluded beach.

Ferry ride

Sweet Surprises

Don't you just love when your child does something completely self-less and sweet? C emptied his piggy bank (all over his bed) this morning, brought all of the change downstairs and proceeded to count coins and divided them into four piles. When I asked what he was doing, C responded, "I want to take M to lunch today at [his favorite place]" He continued to count coins into the four piles and explained one pile was for limeades, one for cheeseburgers, one for french fries, and one for desserts. Then he dumped all of the coins into a zippy bag, asked me to call M's mom for a lunch playdate, and toted his coins out to the car, for our big adventure.

Just when I think he's being selfish, or not listening, or greedy, this shines through and I am so very thankful for the tender heart of my sweet boy. Something else just as sweet? These two have been friends since they started preschool together at age 2 1/2 and their little friendship continues to thrive. And it's interesting to note that her mom and I went to school together and grew up four doors down from each other, so sometimes it's surreal to see these two playing together! A few photos below from our big adventure...

Lunch at their favorite drive-in

Checking out the harbor

Solved the maze and found Posideon

Maze conquerors

We all scream for ice cream! Ok, really, it's frozen yogurt.

Starting the Summer Reading program at the library

Making a map

Miracle Workers

Hard to believe it's been almost two months since my last entry...I know all two of my readers miss me, right? ;)

I recently spent this Mother's Day like each one prior for the past six years: so thankful to be "Mama" to my sweet, miracle boy. And as I considered just what a miracle this little guy is for us, I was reminded how even when we are at our lowest, our most desperate, God is working.

I used to wonder what the modern day "Lazarus moment" looks like...the miracles documented in the New Testament do not seem to find a home today, at least not in such a visual and tangible form. I wonder no more. I've not blogged much about it, but for those close to us, you know C had a terrible, freak accident on the eve of his birthday. He learned the tough way that you do not tackle and choke hold a sleeping German Shepherd to "hug" goodnight.

C had gone up to bed, I was in the kitchen washing dishes, and he snuck back downstairs for "one more hug and kiss goodnight." As his feet padded toward the kitchen I heard "goodnight 'koda," a yelp/growl, then screaming. I ran into the living room to see blood gushing out of C's head and what I could not tell was if the injury was to C's eye, head, or both. I lost it...as in lost-it-in-the-worst-way-in-front-of-your-kid lost it. I get the chills, sweats, and a stomach ache just writing this. I grabbed a dishtowel, put it on C's head, picked him up, then I started screaming and crying. Yep, totally lost it. M ran downstairs, saw the chaos, and off to the closest ER we went.

I was in a panic- still don't know how I got us safely to the ER while M was in the backseat with C. We opted not to drive to the Children's Hospital about 40 miles away; we figured with so much blood lost and not knowing if the eye was injured, we needed the closest ER. And I get so angry when I think about this, but still, God was working. The ER took us back almost immediately, despite not being able to find my insurance card and a jam-packed waiting room. And then we waited...and waited...and waited...and in 2.5 hours not only did my child not even get a BANDAGE for his head (thank goodness for the dishtowel), but we literally had to ask for pain relief. Finally, he was given codeine, antibiotics, and at least was getting doped up enough that he could calm down. He was pitiful, just pitiful.

All I could do at that point was pray...I was crying, and anger bubbling over inside...it's such a helpless feeling to see your child injured, in severe pain, and there is nothing you can do to make it better. I now understand how some folks just "lose it." Hounding the nurses and the ER docs didn't bring answers quickly- the docs were stumped. And while they should have made this call much earlier in the evening, not 2.5 hours later, the decision to transfer C to another hospital was the best ever. Thankfully, the ER staff did not want to attempt to repair the wound, a plastic surgeon was called, then paged, and he never returned the call, so the decision was made to transfer C to the Children's Hospital. And during this time, I didn't even know what to pray...I just asked that the right hands touch C, the right hands bring him the healing and relief he needed. Really a crude, simple prayer, but oh how God can turn that into something amazing.

One of the ER docs told me he consulted with the attending at Children's, C would be prepped for emergency surgery here, ambulance transferred to Children's, and taken in for emergency surgery. Great, now we have a plan. An IV was started, C's brand new shirt (he was so upset about this) was cut off him and a surgical gown put on. Do you know, the ER never touched C's wound? The paramedics who came to transport him to Children's were the ones who threw out the dishtowel and at least put a dressing on the gaping, and I do mean gaping, wound. Off C goes in the ambulance, I followed by car, and wow, it was humbling to arrive at Children's.

We arrived to an impromptu birthday party for C...three docs and three nurses singing happy birthday to him with presents to boot! Presents were "wrapped" in paper measuring tape, tied and curled to look like ribbon and Connor got to open presents while being evaluated by the three ER docs. I brought C's Bucky Bear in from the car, and Bucky was prepped for surgery to, and even got a matching bandage, just like C's. He (C) was also immediately put on morphine and topical anesthetic applied to the wound for some relief. Take about a night and day experience...we now had compassion and talent packaged together, ready to act. But it gets even better.

We're told the plastic surgeon was on his way in and C would be in surgery about 1.5-2 hours. Surgeon arrives quickly, I immediately like the man and feel confident leaving C in his care. Then the waiting room wait begins. Two hours later, I'm taken back to see C and I am amazed, thinking this man is not just a plastic surgeon, he is some kind of miracle working artist. He took an 8cm long, 2+cm wide gash that was almost down to the bone and made it a beautiful line of tiny stitches, layer upon layer. When I asked how many, he responded, "I stopped counting at 70-some."

When C came to, the staff was still just as wonderful and attentive, playing Disney movies for him, getting him a Slurpee, making sure he was comfortable, etc. until we were discharged. Not how we planned to ring in C's 6th birthday, but this team at Children's made the absolute best of a horrific situation.

And then, I began to see all of the answered prayers that evening, all of the miracle workers who lined up with us-
- My husband, who comforted our suffering son when I was in no condition to do so.
- My mom, who got our panicked call and rushed to the ER, to comfort C and calm me when I was inconsolable. She had already worked a very long day that started around 4:30 am, spent the night in the ER with us, sat with me in the waiting room while Connor was in surgery, and never left my side during that whole, awful ordeal, reassuring me that it would be ok, even if it didn't seem anywhere close to "ok" in the moment.
- My beautiful friend, who dropped everything to meet us at the ER, comfort C when I could not, and provide reassurance to us all...not to mention making sure those nurses were doing it right! I wish for each of you reading this to have a true friend like that- she had just worked a 12 hr night shift as a NICU nurse, spent the night in the ER with us, then offered to follow us to Children's...spent the night in constant communication with us while at Children's, contacted my work for me, and met us at home when we were discharged the next day, with birthday cake, presents, and new shirts for C (since he was so upset about the cut one). Wow- humbling.
- My compassionate co-workers who shared the load so I could focus on C, then surprised him with an amazing care package.
- The physicians at the first hospital knowing their own limitations and calling in the experts, even if that meant a transfer.
-The unbelievable team at Children's that balanced utmost competence with compassion that knew no limits...even the nurse who snuck us past the security guard and broke the "only two" rule.
- A dog that could have bitten and caused more harm than a freak collision, but did not.
- No impact to C's vision.
- And last, but certainly not least, the plastic surgeon, that we wouldn't even learn until the coming days what an answered prayer he is...

It was a rough few days post-surgery. Connor was in a lot of pain, slept through his family birthday party and my family performed a repeat the following night for C...it became a birthday week! We returned to the hospital for suture check and removal, but before we did, I did some research on our good doc. Of all the physicians you could awaken in the middle of the night to fix our kiddo we got:

- The ONLY pediatric plastic surgeon in the entire REGION
- His focus is facial injury and reconstruction
- He was voted a "Top Doc" in 2010 by his peers

Does that just give you chills? All I could pray for was the best of the best, and I got that and so much more. Truly, it was a night of miracles!

Mother's Day...

...is one of the toughest days of the year for me. It's bittersweet; I'm so very blessed and thankful to be C's mom and on the other hand, I feel so empty that we continue to struggle with infertility. I always imagined myself with at least two or three kiddos, so the picture to me is still incomplete, and as C gets older, it's a painful reminder that the bonds of a sibling are not there to be shared.

The day always has a rough start too; it's baby dedication day at our church. This morning over 50 families lined up to have their young children dedicated and it just became too much. As a side note, what is it with Baptists having a lot of kids? Biblically, I know it is a blessing, so then I think "what am I doing wrong? Why are we not blessed in this way?" By the time they prayed over the families who struggle with infertility, I had hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Historically, Mother's Day has not usually been a good one around here- something usually goes very wrong. Like the year we spent the day putting together a swingset with the wrong parts, the wrong holes, etc.

Of course I don't want it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, but this one saw me taking a nice spill on my bike, which I have not done in years! At almost 35, the "after" hurts alot more, I'm sure of that! I have a large black bruise on the back of my thigh, another on my knee, and yet another on my shoulder. We hosted my family for dinner, so I ended up doing a lot of prep work, etc. I told M, next year, can we please just take C and go away for the night and do something FUN on Mother's Day. Our bike ride was supposed to be the "fun" today, but that did not happen.

While you celebrate Mother's Day, don't forget those who are praying to be blessed by a child as well.

1910 or 2010 and the Cult of Catholicism

Thanks to modern technology, news travels in a nansecond, versus weeks or months. Today I was on the ever popular Facebook for a few minutes and an openly gay friend of mine posted an article about a woman who was denied access to her dying partner, because they were gay. Regardless of my, or anyone else's, opinion on the topic of homosexuality, shouldn't you have who you want by your side when you are on your deathbed? To me, sexual preference has nothing to do with basic common decency. I appreciate my friend sharing this article and enlightening a broader base of the discrimination that continues, even if the major media outlets are not shining a light on it.

From that article, I saw a link to another article that made my head spin. Two children kicked out of their school, a Catholic school, because they have "two moms." How is that for loving others through Christ? No offense is meant to my Catholic friends and family, but the Catholic church has always mystified me in how they consider themselves followers of Christ. I cannot find a Biblical basis for purgatory, praying to Mary, confession to a priest, all of the non-Biblical rules from Vatican II, burning folks at the stake, praying to saints, not encouraging reading the Bible but instead diluting and brainwashing a perversion of the good book via the homily, and the list goes on...back to the kids kicked out of their school. Hmmm...did they kick out the kids whose parents are divorced? What about the parents using birth control- did those kids get kicked out too? What about those who eat meat on Fridays during Lent? Aren't all of these also "sins" in the Catholic church? Now we are delineating some sins as more aggregious than others? I was always raised a sin, is a sin, is a sin and let he/she who is blameless cast the first stone. So, the Catholic church continues to sexually abuse children, but letting two kids stay in school because they have gay parents is out of the question? Really?! This was shockingly eyeopening to me that this prejudice exists today- are we in the early 1900s? Such a sad state of affairs.

And the current Pope? He's rumored to have ties to a Nazi background and while he condemns capitol punishment for rapists and mass murderers, he continues to refuse to condemn the Uganda death penalty for being gay bill. Lest we forget the words of Pastor Martin Niemoller:

"THEY CAME FIRST for the Communists,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Jews,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.

THEN THEY CAME for the trade unionists,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Catholics,and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant.

THEN THEY CAME for meand by that time no one was left to speak up."

The Thief in the Night

Usually, I sense that things are going in the right direction, as they "should" be, but 2010 has been a dark start that continues on. Never have we been so surrounded by death and honestly, I just cannot process it all. January brought us the death of our 14 year old nephew and February was the death of a family friend that was like a sister to Mark. March brought the death of a high school classmate (died while breastfeeding her newborn), another classmate that went missing during the earthquake in Chile, then the death of another classmate (cancer), the death of C's "Grammy's" dog, and now our neighbor is very ill in critical care, with a sweet wife and two little kids at home. In all my life, I've not experienced a three month period with such loss and sadness- what gives?

The Culture of Death

I've never dealt with death head-on...I'm really an avoider what it comes to tragedy. My paternal grandfather died when I was 8, and while it hit me hard and was very sad in my little life, my family never involved the children in the cultural expectations of a death. My brother and I did not go to the viewing, the funeral, or the wake for my grandfather. My mother strongly believed (and still does) that a child should remember a loved one based on the memories and experiences they have built, not me being left with the final image of my grandfather in a coffin.

My maternal grandfather died of cancer during the first week of my senior year of college; he was in his early 60s. And again, while this was another tragedy to our family, I was relieved my grandfather was no longer suffering. He also was not big on how our culture reveres death and donated his body to scientific research; he figured why would he need his earthly body when he had already passed on to be with his divine creator- God. It ended up that research could not accept his body due to the levels of toxic chemo drugs remaining in his system, so he was cremated. He did not want to be buried, nor to extend the obligation of visiting/upkeep of a grave... "Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not here, I do not sleep..." His memorial service was so beautiful- full of photos of him from his childhood up until cancer robbed him of his vitality- healthy, shining, and bright. It was a beautiful way to say goodbye, and after the service, his brother took him for one last ride on his Harley. Yep, you read that correctly. The box containing my grandfather's ashes was strapped to the back of his favorite Harley and he was taken for one last drive.

Almost exactly two years later, my parents placed the call I think every parent must dread. I was in my apartment, in my second week of my second/final year of graduate school, and I received a call from my parents that my best friend had committed suicide. To this day, a part of me remains empty from that loss. But again, why focus on the death instead of the beautiful life? Like my grandfather, my friend's family hosted a beautiful memorial service, my friend was cremated, a tree planted in his honor, and a wake followed at the family home, to draw together and remember how this one life touched so many others along the way.

My father-in-law passed in '99, my brother-in-law a couple of years later, and two of my uncles and a dear family friend after that. I fully respect that how I was raised to work through loss/death is different from what "the standard" is, but I make no apologies for that. I traveled with M when his father passed, we could not afford for me to travel when M's brother passed. When one of my uncles passed, I was not able to travel to the funeral, and thankfully, my family was very understanding of such. Another uncle passed and I was able to travel and participate in the funeral and wake. When a dear family friend passed in 2005, C was only a few weeks old, which also meant I was also only a few weeks past a C-section and not very mobile. The funeral required a drive of 3.5 hours each way- 7 hours round trip with a newborn. It just was not feasible. And it wasn't just about C's age or my surgery...this would have been the first time many would meet C, and I didn't want him taking the attention from an event that was intended to focus on our loved one. I chose to stay home with C and my family and friends fully respected that decision, no repercussions or hard feelings. We lost M's 14 year old nephew in January- M attended the viewing and I joined the family the next day for the private burial. I hope it was not offensive to the family that I did not attend the viewing; that was not my intention.

Why outline all of this? Tragedy has struck again, followed by judgment with how Mark and I have chosen to deal with it. I think the Irish have it right- throw a party, celebrate a life well lived and, hopefully, the deceased entering into heaven. I've verbally shared with my family, if and when I go, put up some photos of the good time, have my pastor host a memorial service at our Baptist church, and throw a HUGE party afterwards, focusing on the positive and the good, not mourning, not focused on death. No viewing, no burial, etc. Focus on the good times, cremate me, and do what you will with my ashes. Scattering them at the tide line sounds good to me.

Last week, we surprised C with a trip to Disney World- all out! This time we stayed on property for 8 days with Park Hoppers and a dining plan. It was magical and we made FANTASTIC memories with our little guy that I will hold in my heart forever. We arrived at our resort on Saturday the 20th, and late on Sunday the 21st, we received word that a family friend passed away unexpectedly. At that time, the family had not established final arrangements and all we knew is that the family was traveling to upstate NY on Tuesday to make arrangements. I should clarify, these friends are family to my husband, so in their eyes, this is essentially his "sister" passing unexpectedly.

We did not cancel our vacation. Even if we had decided to travel, we could not have done so. Not only would it have been terribly cost prohibitive, but over 2 feet of snow was falling in the Northeast and planes were not easily moving. We didn't even learn of plans until Thursday morning, the same morning as the visitation, followed by services on Friday. And while our conversation did not go there, M knows where my focus was. Our son is very much alive and we were celebrating his life, not going into a situation that could not be changed. Traveling to NY would not bring her back, would not change the tragedy that had already occurred. Because the ground is frozen until spring thaw, she cannot even be buried until sometime in April or May and we are planning to join the family for the burial, even though financially it will be challenging. Now, M has spoken with both of his "brothers" and while I shouldn't be surprised by their response, I am. Both have expressed that he should have been there- the whole family was there except for him. One was much more understanding than the other, but I know M is hurting that it now appears to be a grudge against him that we didn't cancel our vacation and travel to upstate NY, despite not even knowing the arrangements that were made. I stand by our decision, which was really a decision forced by lack of information about arrangements/inaction. But not to hide behind a lack of information, even with advance knowledge of the arrangements, I would not have canceled my time dedicated to celebrate my son. And how ironic the same "brothers" that claim to be family never recognize anything important within our own family unit, such as M's birthday, major accomplishments, etc.

What do you think? What would you have done faced with the same situation?

Rantin' and Ravin'

I'm stepping up on my little soap box to get a few things straight...what a week it's been. If you don't want to read a vent, keep on moving.

1. This is America and we speak ENGLISH, that's right, E-N-G-L-I-S-H. I don't want to push 1, or 2, or 8 to speak to someone who can help me in English. When I go to Kohl's over the weekend and I'm ready to check-out and pay my hard earned $US for whatever it is I am purchasing, I expect the clerk to speak English, not Spanish. And then, to page for assistance over the store PA in Spanish? Ridiculous! Our flaw that is going to come back and bite most of us in the ass is that we've never declared English as the official language of this great nation and I fear the wake-up call for many will come too late, when we're all speaking Spanish to get by. If both sets of my grandparents could immigrate, dirt poor with a flock of kids that rivaled the Duggars, and learn to speak English instead of Italian or Ukranian, I fail to understand why a better educated and more financially secure society fails to do so. It used to be shameful to immigrate and speak your native language and today, it's just en vogue, right along with those anchor babies. In the meantime, my 4-year-old is teaching me Spanish.

2. My liberal friends are convinced that all of this snow across the country points to global warming; they even send me scholarly articles that support this crazy notion. It's snow, it's cold- we're not warming.

3. Taxes- I work in the financial services sector, but not in some make-a-buh-zillion dollars day trader role. My total compensation for the year is based on my peformance and my company's performance, split between salary and a cash bonus paid out in February. Since this is classified as bonus income, almost FIFTY percent of it went to taxes. Ah socialism...how nice that my hard earned dollars can pay for a welfare mama to sit home collecting her WIC and food stamps and Medicaid. Yes, that's harsh, and yes, some people do need assistance, but what about chronic abusers of "the system"? We know a woman who just had another kid on assistance, in her section 8 housing, with all her baby daddies paying child support, WIC and foodstamps buying the food and milk, and driving a newer Cadillac, getting her manicures done, perfect extensions, new cell phone with web services, and the list goes on. I'd LOVE to be home with my son full-time, but you know what, we cannot afford it, so I work. But it's a choice right? Well, it doesn't feel like there is much to choose from. I guess I could stay home full-time if we moved to po-dunks-ville, USA and lived in a trailer, but in this area of the country, Mama is bringin' home the bacon and her roots are showing because those low lights are out of the budget this month.

4. Let me get this straight...I had to be interviewed, my friends interviewed, my vet interviewed, and have two home visits conducted in order to adopt a dog a few years ago. Then I needed a license for the dog, and had to legally sign that if I ever tired of said dog (not a chance!) he was not mine to give away, but would need to be turned back over to the rescue agency...but any old set of idiots can procreate, then abuse, kill, or abandon their child while M and I struggle with infertility. What's up with that?

5. When your husband has a precancerous condition, and you say you are going to call within 7 days to provide biopsy results, and now 21 days have passed and still no call, yes, it's a very safe bet I am pissed and you are going to hear about that. Get over it.

6. I still think the Chinese cheated in the last Olympics, by competing with an underage gymnast, and yes, I still think Obama was born in Kenya and is not legally qualified to serve as Commander in Chief...even I could buy a fake birth certificate from Hawaii. Hope he enjoyed those 29 golf games his first year in office, because no one wants to point out he failed to accomplish ANYTHING, and that's with a congress dominated by his own jackass party.

7. Thank God...thank God I have my faith and I can lay this at His feet.

Really?

What is with 2010? If you read my last post, there have been some significant challenges in our start to the new year, with more that arrived. Please keep the following in your prayers:

M's "sister" Dee (Maxine's daughter) just had her portacath removed from her breast cancer chemo treatments last fall...all was thought to be clear from recent scans, but that is not the case. After dealing with intense headaches last week, a tumor was found on Dee's brain, behind her eye. She was in surgery first thing yesterday morning and is now in recovery. Please keep her, and her family, in her prayers...she is married to Rodney and mama to 5 kids.

M has an ulcer on his eye, which is causing a haze in his vision. We are praying this is not permanent, as it can be, and praying his eye heals with the treatments the eye specialist has prescribed.

A bit of a scare over the weekend, we found a tumor on our GSD's chest...took him to the vet yesterday and it was benign. Our vet was so compassionate, remembering all that we went through with our beloved Sam, and assured us this was not the same thing.

On a very happy note, we are taking C on a secret vacation in 10 short days! WOO-HOO!

On the Edge...

We must be on to something big, something wonderful, and something just beyond our grasp, because it has all-out sucked around here lately. Better is in store, right?

Update on M:

Went in for radiofrequency ablation surgery on 1/27 for Barrett's...only the doc ended up not doing the ablation while Mark was under, but re-mapped the entire esophagus and took more biopsies. Results due this week, still no word. As a side note, nothing like driving around a very urban area for almost an hour, with closed streets, one-way, and under construction, to find a parking place. And the two armed guards in the recovery area? Nice touch. Then, this week, his left eye (completely unrelated to Barrett's) completely swelled up...saw an eye specialist and he has an ulcer in his iris...so now he is having to put drops and steriods in every hour. Really, we need a break here.

Work has been super, crazy, all-out-chaotic busy. So much so, that I don't want to think about it, write about it, etc. But I will say, something isn't kosher when I've got to spend an entire workday, and evening, on the phone to India to try to fix my work laptop. Note to Fortune 500s- outsourcing your tech support to Asia b/c it is cheaper does not mean it is better.

C- he's an enigma lately. I cannot believe he's turning 5 soon and how rebellious he's become in the past couple of weeks. I now understand why some animals eat their young.

Sadly, our 14 year-old-nephew passed away tragically and unexpectedly on 1/17- there are no words.

So, we're on the edge, but hopefully the good is headed back our way soon. Even in the midst of these trials, I am thankful my husband has one of the top docs in the world treating his condition, I'm thankful we both have jobs in this economy (although, I'd much rather be a SAHM)- it keeps the mortgage paid and the cupboards stocked, and C, well, you know I just love him to pieces, even when he's acting like a nut.

Go Out and Do Some GOOD!

Lesson learned- take the picture while it is there to take. We've had utility workers outside the past two days, digging a new gas line, complete with a backhoe parked in the yard. C thought he was in construction heaven! Unfortunately, none of us stopped to get any pics. It's been below freezing here and these guys are on the street by 7:30am and don't leave until after 4pm. Brrrr!

Yesterday I set up a tray in the driveway with a carafe of fresh coffee, with all the accompaniments, and a plate of pannettone. At the end of the day, the bread was gone and there was about 1/4 pot of coffee left. This morning, I was out of coffee, so after taking C to school, I stopped by the local gas station and purchased two 24 oz. coffees, poured those into the carafe and set up the coffee service again this morning. By mid-morning, the carafe was empty, so I refilled it. As I was leaving to volunteer in C's classroom later this morning, one of the workers stopped the backhoe, thanked me for setting up coffee for the crew and said, "Boy, that coffee this morning sure was good. It was REALLY good!" To which I replied, "WaWa!" I guess my own coffee making skills aren't so hot, especially sad since I have a Keurig! How do you screw that up? Anyway...

My point: a simple, simple act, of very little cost, goes a long way. How can you go out and do some GOOD?