What was I saying again about sitting down to get things done and then something else happening. So where were we? Oh yes, address three and buying a house.
So as explained earlier, the rental market in Sidney is very, very tough. We quickly discovered if we ever wanted to see our furniture and, "stuff," again we would have to buy. I think we looked at virtually every house in town (not many). The house we ended up buying is a modest three bedroom and two bathroom, two level home about 60 ish years old. The previous owners took pretty good care of it (at least we thought at the time - wait for bathroom debacle of 12/11) and the kicker was the purchase price of $120K. Yes, you read that right. Our mortgage is cheaper than any house payment or rent paid since 1998. Utilities are cheaper than CO or WA and even though it wasn't my first choice of a house, it was my first choice of price and I'm happy with it. It's the nicest place we've ever called home and it feels good to be home owners once again.
So the last week of May, after a very stressful loan officer/underwriter experience we closed on the house (even that took two tries as the first set of calculations were incorrect (cough Quicken Loans cough.) The last weekend in May 2011 we moved into address number four with the help of my brother and Ben's dad. In the past four years we've moved, now, six times and lived in three states. I'm done for a while. As much as I miss Seattle, and I tell you I miss it more than I ever missed CO while living in WA, NE is now home and will be as long as Ben's career continues to move forward.
The summer brought with us three major hail storms. When I say major I mean at times, golf ball to softball-sized, yes softball-sized hail. Houses in the entire north side of Sidney looked like Swiss cheese. The temporary house we had lived in lost windows, siding, roof, and the new tenants had both cars and a camper damaged. Our house made it through okay until the last storm which totalled out out roof and damaged some siding. The saddest news was Ben's beloved truck was totalled out to insurance. However, and this will tell you how much Ben loves that truck, we took the money and kept, yes, kept the tank, proving I will have this car in my life for-the-ever. For those keeping score: Cash for clunkers 0 Land Cruiser 1, Sidney hail 0 Land Cruiser 1, State Farm 0, Land Cruiser 1.
Last summer also brought with it my 20th high school reunion. I went to the first night's event but due to the cost and other family commitments left it at that. It was fun seeing people I hadn't seen in many, many years. Of course I had envisioned losing all this weight prior, but once again, I didn't care enough to do it. :)
This fall we settled in to rural living and began to truly acclimate to our new life. I underwent Physical Therapy to help with my very painful Plantar Faciitis in my left foot. It helped, until I stopped and got a $900 bill, so I decided to deal with it rather than continue to pay for PT.
In September I had the privilege of having lunch with my dear friend, Tina. She was one of my best childhood friends and fighting a very courageous battle with kidney cancer. I'll never ever forget how she made me laugh with her very real way of talking about the situation. The cancer was eating through her skull at that time and she said, "once it makes it to my brain...kheeet," as she waived her hand in a cutting motion across her throat and smiled. She then took off her hat and showed me her very beautiful face and hair. She had lost half her hair permanently during radiation. She smiled at me with laughing eyes and half Mohawk, looking so gorgeous is seemed impossible she was terminally ill. I remember thinking I just wanted to communicate to her, in that moment, how awesome she was. We left our meal and she mentioned that perhaps, her family would take a short road trip to Sidney for a visit that fall. I told her I would love nothing more.
Unfortunately, November came and with it, great loss. On a Sunday morning, while visiting my mom, I heard the phone ring. Then I heard my mom gasp and her voice change. I knew right then my uncle had died. Sick for a long time, this wasn't unexpected, but regardless of how much time you have to prepare you've never really ready for the permanence of death. My uncle was one of the true heroes in my life. Married for 58 years, father of five amazing daughters, he represented to me, all things family. A retired firefighter, family legend dictates, he once saved the town of Los Alamos, NM from burning. I looked to him and my aunt as true examples of what marriage is. To this day, I think he was, quite frankly the best dad to ever father children. He lived a life so full, long, and loving I know God welcomed him at first sight.
The following morning still reeling from my uncle's death, I got word that my beautiful friend, Tina, died. She represented childhood to me. She was my go-to person during those formative years in Elementary and Junior High schools. She taught me how to apply make-up, curl hair, the importance of George Michael and pretty much how to be a girl. We hadn't been close in years, but something about the nature of our friendship as girls made one thing for certain: I will miss her forever. In that moment I let go and sobbed like I hadn't sobbed in a very long time. Poor Ben didn't know what to do when I called him at work.
The rest of November was filled with a road trip to Albuquerque, NM to attend farewell services for my uncle. I hadn't been to NM in 9 years and forgot what a beautiful place it is. I saw cousins I hadn't seen in decades and was reminded how special my family really is. The following week I attended a memorial service for Tina. She touched so many, an estimated 1,500 people attended. Her husband spoke beautifully about her I cried several times. It was a wonderful service for an extraordinary person and friend. I think about her often and the times we shared. I'm profoundly grateful the good Lord sent her to me in the 3rd grade and gave me such a great and enduring friendship.
December (and we're almost done with this epic post) brought one of the best holiday seasons ever. I'm not sure if it was coming off of such a sad time so I appreciated happy more or for the first time in over a decade neither Ben nor I worked retail hours, for whatever reason it was awesome. Ben took the week off between Christmas and New Years. Add in house guests that included my parents, brothers Jeff and Matt, who drove in from New Orleans (in 23 hours mind you). My house was full of both people and love.
I should mention at this time a total bathroom remodel was in swing thanks to faulty plumbing and a bad shower wall install. I don't recommend major home repairs during the high holiday season. Alas, they don't wait for it to be a convenient time. Good news is we have a beautiful new bathroom from the studs and joists on out. PS I'm blaming not getting Christmas cards out on the bathroom debacle.
So there it is, 2011 summed up in a few pages. It was a wild year, one for the record books. I learned a lot about how much stress one can manage through change, growth and geography. I learned once again, cancer isn't fair. It will take people but not their spirit. Real friendship is the trade off for loss and it's priceless. To quote my friend Tina, "The juice is worth the squeeze." Throughout the year and even now, I think of Tina and how we never know how much time we have. So this year and beyond, I chose and will continue to choose to spend my time with people and things that add to my life and lift me up. I'm just saying no to the haters. LOL.
Cheers to 2012.
One woman's take on the kooky world of motherhood and how it should come with both instructions and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
2011: Four Addresses, a Cancer Scare & 2 Many Funerals
I haven’t blogged for a while. It seems like just when I think things have settled down and I can think straight and catch up with my thoughts, something else happens and I’m again reeling. It’s been a year of change for my family. Change on just about every level.
Let’s start at the beginning. First, we all have to grow up and be okay with the words: breast, nipple and areola. Let’s say them together people: breast…nipple…areola. See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it. Areola is the hardest I know, but I digress. We’re talking body parts people, human body parts. Nothing more. I’m choosing to be very specific so to encourage women and the men who love them to take breast health seriously. Early detection is the key to life. So, stop talking about how you wish yours were bigger, higher and or firmer and take notice of whether or not your breasts are healthy.
In January I quit ignoring some signs of abnormalities on my breast. Or as I like to call it, my sacred left vessel. For the women and the men who love the women reading, you should know puckering or spontaneous inversion of any kind on your breast or nipple (is it getting any easier to say nipple?) is NOT normal. As many of you know I have myriad issues with my hormones causing infertility, complexion issues and the ever popular weight gain, so I gave it time to see if it was an added pretty and kooky side effect of my PCOS issues.
After a few months, said pucker became wider and intense pain ensued. Drying off with a towel hurt, hugs from my children hurt, bras…you guessed it, hurt. So I went to my OBGYN and was told it was indeed abnormal. Bummer. I was quickly referred to the Overlake Breast Center in downtown Bellevue. There I had diagnostic mammograms, which were awful due to said intense pain followed by an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed two abnormal growths. They didn’t look “completely suspicious” but weren’t normal so needle biopsies of both were ordered to rule out cancer or pre-cancer. Having spent the last year watching my amazing mother in law fight breast cancer, I got nervous.
Just after having my rack so well documented x-ray wise, Ben received an unexpected call from a headhunter for Cabela’s. It was looking for someone with his skill set to join its fishing buying team. Ben was so happy in his former job and wasn’t for a second looking for anything new. In fact, we were loving life in Issaquah/Bellevue, WA and had no intentions of ever leaving. Curious though, he decided to talk to them. After all it was Cabela’s and we quickly discovered the insanely low cost of living there and the 160ish mile proximity to our hometown of Longmont. Two phone interviews later we were both on our way to Sidney, NE for Ben’s third interview with the big guns. We flew out on a Thurs. night, Ben interviewed for hours on Friday. We then toured the town on Friday afternoon drove around and looked at houses on Saturday and returned to Seattle on Sunday. The interview went well but they were hard to read and Ben wasn’t sure what would happen. What we did know was my biopsies were on Monday.
Monday came and so did the needle-core biopsies. It’s just what it sounds like. Needles go in to numb the area and then a coring needle goes in and inside the coring needle is another tool that snaps out and grabs flesh of the suspicious area and retracts so the specimen can be preserved and sent to pathology. Repeat 8-12 times. We found out towards to end of the second biopsy not all the affected areas were completely numb. To numb it would hurt as bad as the remaining few pulls, so, you guessed it, snap, retract = pain. God bless my PCP for giving me a few Xanax for the procedure. I'd never had it and would have freaked without it. Up next, was the waiting game, along with ice packs, pain pills and rest. I think it took until the following Wed. to get the call back from the radiologist with the pathology report. I remember I was driving a friend to a doctor’s appointment when the call came. As soon as I dropped her off and could prepare myself mentally for the information, I called back. Unfortunately, the results were, “inconclusive.” Basically they/he missed both growths and now I would need surgical biopsies to rule out cancer. Awesome, ‘cause that’s just the place I want a scalpel slicing around. Unless I’m coming out with a better product, it’s not my idea of fun.
In the meantime, Ben was a nervous wreck waiting on the news about my health and news from Cabela’s. He was told the decision would be made quickly, yet now we were almost two weeks out with no phone call. Later he would tell me this time period was just as stressful as when we had our first preemie Charlotte and I was sick with Whooping Cough. If you knew us then, he means off the charts stressed.
A few days later, on a Thursday, Ben and I met with the surgeon, Dr. Kristine Harrington and she was/is outstanding. She offered to do the surgery as quick as possible to give us some peace. So the following Tuesday I went in and had the growths removed using a guide wire. So basically the biopsy guy numbed me up and placed a wire through my breast to guide the surgeon as to where the growths were. This lends itself to smaller incisions and scars. Awesome. What wasn't awesome was him denying me my god-given right to more Xanax which my PCP had prescribed for the day. I missed my floaty minded pharmaceutical friend as I waited the three hours between guide wire insertion and surgery. It paints a pretty picture doesn’t it? Me, on a gurney, with a 12 inch guide wire slicing through my boob, waiting for surgery. In fact I even took a wheel chair ride in a hospital gown and wire boob from one side of the hospital (The Breast Center) to another (Outpatient Surgery). Good times. Three hours later, as nurses rolled me into surgery I got really scared with a bad case of the what-ifs. Ben and Eli saw me off, but seeing their faces as I was wheeled away choked me up fierce.
The surgery was done under conscious sedation by choice. Anesthesia is scary, I’m a mother after all and to be honest my practical mind also worried about the cost. So, I opted for conscious sedation, this means I’m not completely knocked out but numb and drugged up good and sleepy. Wouldn’t you know it though…at one point I felt the scalpel? Yeah, that’s right, felt, the, scalpel. I remember wincing and mumbling, “Um, I can feel that,” and the doctors acted so fast it was only a few seconds until the increase in narcotics and numbing agents kicked it. I still remember it though. Later, I woke up and soon saw my husband and beautiful kids waiting to take me home. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Poor little Eli, he was so upset at seeing me in a wheelchair. He kept yelling at the nurse to leave me alone and cried asking why I wasn’t walking. I’ll never forget him being so worried about me.
This is where the story gets good. Two days later, I think it was two days later, the sweet surgeon called to say I was fine, it wasn’t cancer, or a ductile papilloma, it was more random (totally me) and I quote, “sludge.” I have sludge boobs people. The scientific word is ductile ectasia. As most people wonder, I’ll tell you, the incision is like a half moon and follows the outline of the moon on my sacred left vessel. (Areola, for the thick readers – it’s still not my favorite word.) Recovery was painful. I walked around in exercise bras with ice packs stuffed in them for weeks. It took months for it to quit hurting. I feel for the women who experience worse and get bad news after. Every now and then I still have a shooting pain but not often. So, back to the call part. Not 30 minutes after the good news, Ben comes home, we hug relief and the phone rings again. It’s Cabela’s. There’s a job offer on the table and it’s a good one.
We thought it through over the weekend and accepted. Gasp.
Ben had to leave that week for a business trip. So the following week I flew to Denver, drove to Sidney, NE, home of Cabela’s’ corporate offices and looked for housing. You should know that Sidney is very, very small. Like 6,200 people small. There are no decent rentals and of the decent ones, no unfurnished rentals. I ended up agreeing to reserve a furnished corporate rental house sight unseen. That should tell you the state of the housing I actually did see.
Two weeks later the moving trucks arrived to pack and move us. We said goodbye to our friends, family and life in the Pacific Northwest. As crazy expensive as it is to live there, it’s also awesome, full of diversity and breathtakingly beautiful. I miss it and my friends there every day.
Three weeks later we were living in Sidney. This brings us to our second address: the AmericInn & Suites. We had a decent relocation package and all our food was covered during this time, but in a town of 6,200 restaurants are few and far between. We were there for about 3.5 weeks. Eating out lost its appeal after week one. During that time despite having no real money to put down, we checked in with a lender and decided to see if we qualified for a loan and if we did what we needed to save. It had been years since we went through the process. Times and the economy had changed the game exponentially. So had our lost business, but that’s another story. We were told we qualified. The housing was so cheap comparatively and therefore the down payment was doable, so we started looking at houses.
During this process we moved into the temporary rental (address three). Where we stayed for six weeks and started our new life. The kids adjusted to new schools and I spent most my time tracking down documents for the lender. Our loan changed three times during this process and I just about lost my mind to stress. A cancer scare, move across country, and home purchase were all taking its toll…
End of Part One. hee hee...
Let’s start at the beginning. First, we all have to grow up and be okay with the words: breast, nipple and areola. Let’s say them together people: breast…nipple…areola. See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it. Areola is the hardest I know, but I digress. We’re talking body parts people, human body parts. Nothing more. I’m choosing to be very specific so to encourage women and the men who love them to take breast health seriously. Early detection is the key to life. So, stop talking about how you wish yours were bigger, higher and or firmer and take notice of whether or not your breasts are healthy.
In January I quit ignoring some signs of abnormalities on my breast. Or as I like to call it, my sacred left vessel. For the women and the men who love the women reading, you should know puckering or spontaneous inversion of any kind on your breast or nipple (is it getting any easier to say nipple?) is NOT normal. As many of you know I have myriad issues with my hormones causing infertility, complexion issues and the ever popular weight gain, so I gave it time to see if it was an added pretty and kooky side effect of my PCOS issues.
After a few months, said pucker became wider and intense pain ensued. Drying off with a towel hurt, hugs from my children hurt, bras…you guessed it, hurt. So I went to my OBGYN and was told it was indeed abnormal. Bummer. I was quickly referred to the Overlake Breast Center in downtown Bellevue. There I had diagnostic mammograms, which were awful due to said intense pain followed by an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed two abnormal growths. They didn’t look “completely suspicious” but weren’t normal so needle biopsies of both were ordered to rule out cancer or pre-cancer. Having spent the last year watching my amazing mother in law fight breast cancer, I got nervous.
Just after having my rack so well documented x-ray wise, Ben received an unexpected call from a headhunter for Cabela’s. It was looking for someone with his skill set to join its fishing buying team. Ben was so happy in his former job and wasn’t for a second looking for anything new. In fact, we were loving life in Issaquah/Bellevue, WA and had no intentions of ever leaving. Curious though, he decided to talk to them. After all it was Cabela’s and we quickly discovered the insanely low cost of living there and the 160ish mile proximity to our hometown of Longmont. Two phone interviews later we were both on our way to Sidney, NE for Ben’s third interview with the big guns. We flew out on a Thurs. night, Ben interviewed for hours on Friday. We then toured the town on Friday afternoon drove around and looked at houses on Saturday and returned to Seattle on Sunday. The interview went well but they were hard to read and Ben wasn’t sure what would happen. What we did know was my biopsies were on Monday.
Monday came and so did the needle-core biopsies. It’s just what it sounds like. Needles go in to numb the area and then a coring needle goes in and inside the coring needle is another tool that snaps out and grabs flesh of the suspicious area and retracts so the specimen can be preserved and sent to pathology. Repeat 8-12 times. We found out towards to end of the second biopsy not all the affected areas were completely numb. To numb it would hurt as bad as the remaining few pulls, so, you guessed it, snap, retract = pain. God bless my PCP for giving me a few Xanax for the procedure. I'd never had it and would have freaked without it. Up next, was the waiting game, along with ice packs, pain pills and rest. I think it took until the following Wed. to get the call back from the radiologist with the pathology report. I remember I was driving a friend to a doctor’s appointment when the call came. As soon as I dropped her off and could prepare myself mentally for the information, I called back. Unfortunately, the results were, “inconclusive.” Basically they/he missed both growths and now I would need surgical biopsies to rule out cancer. Awesome, ‘cause that’s just the place I want a scalpel slicing around. Unless I’m coming out with a better product, it’s not my idea of fun.
In the meantime, Ben was a nervous wreck waiting on the news about my health and news from Cabela’s. He was told the decision would be made quickly, yet now we were almost two weeks out with no phone call. Later he would tell me this time period was just as stressful as when we had our first preemie Charlotte and I was sick with Whooping Cough. If you knew us then, he means off the charts stressed.
A few days later, on a Thursday, Ben and I met with the surgeon, Dr. Kristine Harrington and she was/is outstanding. She offered to do the surgery as quick as possible to give us some peace. So the following Tuesday I went in and had the growths removed using a guide wire. So basically the biopsy guy numbed me up and placed a wire through my breast to guide the surgeon as to where the growths were. This lends itself to smaller incisions and scars. Awesome. What wasn't awesome was him denying me my god-given right to more Xanax which my PCP had prescribed for the day. I missed my floaty minded pharmaceutical friend as I waited the three hours between guide wire insertion and surgery. It paints a pretty picture doesn’t it? Me, on a gurney, with a 12 inch guide wire slicing through my boob, waiting for surgery. In fact I even took a wheel chair ride in a hospital gown and wire boob from one side of the hospital (The Breast Center) to another (Outpatient Surgery). Good times. Three hours later, as nurses rolled me into surgery I got really scared with a bad case of the what-ifs. Ben and Eli saw me off, but seeing their faces as I was wheeled away choked me up fierce.
The surgery was done under conscious sedation by choice. Anesthesia is scary, I’m a mother after all and to be honest my practical mind also worried about the cost. So, I opted for conscious sedation, this means I’m not completely knocked out but numb and drugged up good and sleepy. Wouldn’t you know it though…at one point I felt the scalpel? Yeah, that’s right, felt, the, scalpel. I remember wincing and mumbling, “Um, I can feel that,” and the doctors acted so fast it was only a few seconds until the increase in narcotics and numbing agents kicked it. I still remember it though. Later, I woke up and soon saw my husband and beautiful kids waiting to take me home. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Poor little Eli, he was so upset at seeing me in a wheelchair. He kept yelling at the nurse to leave me alone and cried asking why I wasn’t walking. I’ll never forget him being so worried about me.
This is where the story gets good. Two days later, I think it was two days later, the sweet surgeon called to say I was fine, it wasn’t cancer, or a ductile papilloma, it was more random (totally me) and I quote, “sludge.” I have sludge boobs people. The scientific word is ductile ectasia. As most people wonder, I’ll tell you, the incision is like a half moon and follows the outline of the moon on my sacred left vessel. (Areola, for the thick readers – it’s still not my favorite word.) Recovery was painful. I walked around in exercise bras with ice packs stuffed in them for weeks. It took months for it to quit hurting. I feel for the women who experience worse and get bad news after. Every now and then I still have a shooting pain but not often. So, back to the call part. Not 30 minutes after the good news, Ben comes home, we hug relief and the phone rings again. It’s Cabela’s. There’s a job offer on the table and it’s a good one.
We thought it through over the weekend and accepted. Gasp.
Ben had to leave that week for a business trip. So the following week I flew to Denver, drove to Sidney, NE, home of Cabela’s’ corporate offices and looked for housing. You should know that Sidney is very, very small. Like 6,200 people small. There are no decent rentals and of the decent ones, no unfurnished rentals. I ended up agreeing to reserve a furnished corporate rental house sight unseen. That should tell you the state of the housing I actually did see.
Two weeks later the moving trucks arrived to pack and move us. We said goodbye to our friends, family and life in the Pacific Northwest. As crazy expensive as it is to live there, it’s also awesome, full of diversity and breathtakingly beautiful. I miss it and my friends there every day.
Three weeks later we were living in Sidney. This brings us to our second address: the AmericInn & Suites. We had a decent relocation package and all our food was covered during this time, but in a town of 6,200 restaurants are few and far between. We were there for about 3.5 weeks. Eating out lost its appeal after week one. During that time despite having no real money to put down, we checked in with a lender and decided to see if we qualified for a loan and if we did what we needed to save. It had been years since we went through the process. Times and the economy had changed the game exponentially. So had our lost business, but that’s another story. We were told we qualified. The housing was so cheap comparatively and therefore the down payment was doable, so we started looking at houses.
During this process we moved into the temporary rental (address three). Where we stayed for six weeks and started our new life. The kids adjusted to new schools and I spent most my time tracking down documents for the lender. Our loan changed three times during this process and I just about lost my mind to stress. A cancer scare, move across country, and home purchase were all taking its toll…
End of Part One. hee hee...
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
2011 = Big Year
Here's to a giant lapse in posts. The last five months are a whirlwind of major health scares, biopsies, surgery, job offers and an unexpected and super-fast move from the Emerald city to rural Nebraska. I'll have all the juicy details up on the blog by next week.
I honestly can't remember a busier or more stressful time in my life then these past few months. I look forward to things growing quieter as we settle into another new life, this one on the great plains.
I honestly can't remember a busier or more stressful time in my life then these past few months. I look forward to things growing quieter as we settle into another new life, this one on the great plains.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
My daughter, the writer
I swear my daughter arrived to this world with a gift of goodness in her heart. Born premature she spent the first month of her life at Children's Hospital in Denver, CO. There with the help of nurses and doctors she learned how to breathe, eat and keep her heart beating in the process.
When she was three she began preschool at St. John's Catholic School. I was teaching her about praying and we talked about who God and Jesus are - very basic three year old stuff. It was during this conversation she told me, completely unprompted, "I know who he is Mommy, he came to see me when I was a sick baby in the hospital."
Speechless, tears sprung to my eyes and I said, "I bet he did, you were pretty sick."
You should know that we are believers in God and align our family with the Catholic church however on paper, we're really bad at being Catholic. We don't tithe or really even go to church. Yet, somehow Charlotte is always reminding us of God's presence and will.
This year at school her Thanksgiving Book was kept by the teacher to use as an example and in her words, here is what it said:
I am thankful for...
By, Charlotte
I am thankful for the Lord to guide me.
I am thankful because I am kind.
I am thankful for my dog to play with. (Note: he died years ago but she still loves him.)
I am thankful for a friend to talk to at school.
Pretty good stuff. None of it said, I am thankful for my Wii, or Ugg boots, which makes sense because we have no gaming system and her clothes are from Target.
Last night as I cleaned the playroom, I came across her notebook. She uses it like a journal of sorts, drawing pictures, writing wishes, etc. In it I found the following about what Christmas means to her. I'm typing it verbatim, phonetic spelling and all. :)
Christmas Time
By, Charlotte
Christmas is a time to spend time with your family.
It is also a tridishon (tradition) to give too.
A time to give!
Then we celebrate God's birthday.
I love this holiday!
A family to decorate a tree with, lights and ornaments too.
To hang a wreath.
Have ham.
Have a school break!
Evryone (everyone) comes home from work.
Time to decorate every single inch.
Hang bells on dors (doors).
Light candles.
Cold chilly snow rolls in.
Look for Angels in the sky.
Shake your snowglobes up.
Listen to your music boxs (boxes).
Watch A Christmas Story (title was even underlined).
Hang stockings too.
Santa comes and brings presents.
Recently at a conference her teacher described her as a "peacemaker" who gets along with everyone and wants people to play fair, act nice and follow the rules.
I'm proud to be her mom and thankful she reminds me of what's important.
Charlotte for president. Well, not really, she'd have to become a politician to do that and she embodies the polar opposite of what that would require.
When she was three she began preschool at St. John's Catholic School. I was teaching her about praying and we talked about who God and Jesus are - very basic three year old stuff. It was during this conversation she told me, completely unprompted, "I know who he is Mommy, he came to see me when I was a sick baby in the hospital."
Speechless, tears sprung to my eyes and I said, "I bet he did, you were pretty sick."
You should know that we are believers in God and align our family with the Catholic church however on paper, we're really bad at being Catholic. We don't tithe or really even go to church. Yet, somehow Charlotte is always reminding us of God's presence and will.
This year at school her Thanksgiving Book was kept by the teacher to use as an example and in her words, here is what it said:
I am thankful for...
By, Charlotte
I am thankful for the Lord to guide me.
I am thankful because I am kind.
I am thankful for my dog to play with. (Note: he died years ago but she still loves him.)
I am thankful for a friend to talk to at school.
Pretty good stuff. None of it said, I am thankful for my Wii, or Ugg boots, which makes sense because we have no gaming system and her clothes are from Target.
Last night as I cleaned the playroom, I came across her notebook. She uses it like a journal of sorts, drawing pictures, writing wishes, etc. In it I found the following about what Christmas means to her. I'm typing it verbatim, phonetic spelling and all. :)
Christmas Time
By, Charlotte
Christmas is a time to spend time with your family.
It is also a tridishon (tradition) to give too.
A time to give!
Then we celebrate God's birthday.
I love this holiday!
A family to decorate a tree with, lights and ornaments too.
To hang a wreath.
Have ham.
Have a school break!
Evryone (everyone) comes home from work.
Time to decorate every single inch.
Hang bells on dors (doors).
Light candles.
Cold chilly snow rolls in.
Look for Angels in the sky.
Shake your snowglobes up.
Listen to your music boxs (boxes).
Watch A Christmas Story (title was even underlined).
Hang stockings too.
Santa comes and brings presents.
Recently at a conference her teacher described her as a "peacemaker" who gets along with everyone and wants people to play fair, act nice and follow the rules.
I'm proud to be her mom and thankful she reminds me of what's important.
Charlotte for president. Well, not really, she'd have to become a politician to do that and she embodies the polar opposite of what that would require.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Stop. Potty time.
I always knew I wanted children. Truly. There was never a doubt in my mind I wanted children. More specifically, I always knew I wanted two children. I should also say, I have friends who feel equally certain they do not want children. For my women friends who feel this way and comfortable enough to say it aloud, I'm always proud. Our society seems to think if you're a woman, you must yearn to be a super crafty human maker. I believe you can lead a full life without children. It's just not the life I ever wanted for myself.
When the mister and I finally decided to pull the goalie a funny orbit around doctors and my hormonally-challenged body began. After months, well, years of issues really, I was diagnosed with PCOS, Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome. Big fancy words for: you don't make eggs right (I'm not a skillet), oh and you gain weight for no reason but can't lose it (I grow without water) and you might have patchy pigmented skin (you're on your way to actually looking my Latina heritage), hello acne (Didn't I break up with Clearasil a decade ago) and excess hair (didn't have that symptom, praise Jesus.)
So with medical cocktails and an obscenely amazing OB, we managed two children. Dream come true. I basically cooked two eggs. Over easy, since they arrived eight and six weeks early. We're eternally grateful for the little monsters and get to experience life in the company of a little girl and a little boy. I know with all my heart I received exactly what I prayed for: a family.
That, yay I had kids, aside, I could NOT be happier to say, I changed my last diaper, people. I repeat, I changed my last diaper. At least for my children. For 41 months I wiped, powdered, diaper creamed and diapered one boy's cute little bum. Before Eli, is was Charlotte's cute little bum. I never went anywhere without a diaper bag stocked with wipes, clothes, diaper cream, etc. I don't mean to sound like we deserve medals; diapering is something all parents do. It's just when little Eli finally decided to hit the water, I realized I was in a word: done. Done, done, done, done, done!
Since I realize my good fortune and therefore know I'm done having kids, when the proverbial pee light bulb goes on for the youngest, it means d-o-n-e with the diaper bag. It's so stinking life-changing and liberating, I can barely contain myself. If my dear friend hadn't spent a small fortune on my fancy pants Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag, I'd channel the 60's and burn it like a bra. Burn baby burn, I say. Not to be confused with drill, baby drill. I'm no hockey mom and my lipstick is optional. I do however, channel MC Hammer and sing in my head: Stop, potty, time...every time the boy goes.
My favorite Eli sayings with regards to his mad potty skills:
1. "My pee/poop is feeling kind of shy Mom. I try later."
2. "Don't worry Mom, I'll be careful to not hurt my penis." (When closing the toilet lid.)
3. "I have to go potty now. You stay here. I need my privacy." (pronounced pwyvacy)
4. "Bye, bye, Eli's poop. See you next time. Have a great day...okay?!"
When the mister and I finally decided to pull the goalie a funny orbit around doctors and my hormonally-challenged body began. After months, well, years of issues really, I was diagnosed with PCOS, Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome. Big fancy words for: you don't make eggs right (I'm not a skillet), oh and you gain weight for no reason but can't lose it (I grow without water) and you might have patchy pigmented skin (you're on your way to actually looking my Latina heritage), hello acne (Didn't I break up with Clearasil a decade ago) and excess hair (didn't have that symptom, praise Jesus.)
So with medical cocktails and an obscenely amazing OB, we managed two children. Dream come true. I basically cooked two eggs. Over easy, since they arrived eight and six weeks early. We're eternally grateful for the little monsters and get to experience life in the company of a little girl and a little boy. I know with all my heart I received exactly what I prayed for: a family.
That, yay I had kids, aside, I could NOT be happier to say, I changed my last diaper, people. I repeat, I changed my last diaper. At least for my children. For 41 months I wiped, powdered, diaper creamed and diapered one boy's cute little bum. Before Eli, is was Charlotte's cute little bum. I never went anywhere without a diaper bag stocked with wipes, clothes, diaper cream, etc. I don't mean to sound like we deserve medals; diapering is something all parents do. It's just when little Eli finally decided to hit the water, I realized I was in a word: done. Done, done, done, done, done!
Since I realize my good fortune and therefore know I'm done having kids, when the proverbial pee light bulb goes on for the youngest, it means d-o-n-e with the diaper bag. It's so stinking life-changing and liberating, I can barely contain myself. If my dear friend hadn't spent a small fortune on my fancy pants Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag, I'd channel the 60's and burn it like a bra. Burn baby burn, I say. Not to be confused with drill, baby drill. I'm no hockey mom and my lipstick is optional. I do however, channel MC Hammer and sing in my head: Stop, potty, time...every time the boy goes.
My favorite Eli sayings with regards to his mad potty skills:
1. "My pee/poop is feeling kind of shy Mom. I try later."
2. "Don't worry Mom, I'll be careful to not hurt my penis." (When closing the toilet lid.)
3. "I have to go potty now. You stay here. I need my privacy." (pronounced pwyvacy)
4. "Bye, bye, Eli's poop. See you next time. Have a great day...okay?!"
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
"Laughter through Tears is my Favorite Emotion."
As most of you know, the kids and I spent four weeks in Colorado visiting family this summer. It was a wonderful and bittersweet trip. Sometimes so oddly normal to be *home* and other times, kinda tough, especially to be away from Ben for so long. It's his busy time of year at work. He was only able to get away for a single long weekend.
While in CO, I visited a dear friend from childhood battling Stage IV Renal cancer. She was my favorite friend through all the crazy adolescent antics. Always funny and incredibly beautiful, her advice on how to be a girl during the formative years of Elementary and Jr. High schools are priceless to both me and my heart. The few hours I had with her were both inspiring and heartbreaking. Sometimes the truth about our personal journey is hard to face. She seems to handle it with amazing grace, humor and remains beyond beautiful.
I also had the privilege of supporting my mother-in-law through Chemo and its aftermath as she fights breast cancer. She's pretty amazing and although cancer is my absolute least favorite thing, it afforded me time to be with her and get to know her on a different level which in and of itself was a gift. Time with people, when it's real, always is.
She's a strong and very real lady and able to see the humor in the awful and made me laugh many times. I kept thinking of that line in Steel Magnolias when Dolly Parton says, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." We shared stories like old friends and a love for Simply Lemon lemonade. I saw her fight through pain in effort to take Charlotte to the American Girl Doll Store, where Molly the doll got her ears pierced and her hair did and thought what an illustration of leading by example. She also ate my food and said it was good. For the record though, the Chemo left her unable to taste food...so don't buy it. Next step for her is Radiation, which I hope brings an easier road.
It was fun for the kids to have time with her, and all the grandparents for that matter. We miss them all so much living up here. We had it good when a visit with them was just a phone call away. I'm pretty sure my kids miss the daily chocolate chip or M&M pancakes courtesy of Grandpa Ted, now that they're back to my oatmeal. (Whenever I make it I swear I hear them whispering in their best Tiny Tim voices, "More please.")
Eli continues to be the source of great humor and feist. He's a joy and a big fat handful of naughty. Just when I start to really worry about his behavior and begin Googling medical conditions for children, he cracks a funny or does something amazingly smart and sweet. He's a treasure and so beautiful with his big brown eyes. He starts preschool next week and is both excited and proud.
My favorite Eli story of late: I recently told Charlotte all the Colorado sun made her hair a bit red. To which she responded, "I noticed too and I've always wanted to be a red head!" I thought it was funny, since she's only seven. Then out of nowhere, Eli says, "Yeah, well my hair is turning GREEN (pronounced gween)," and then died laughing at his own joke. For the record his hair is not green and never will be unless he gets creative in his teen years.
Last week my first baby started 2nd Grade. Insert ugly cry. I don't mean to sound like a Hallmark commercial, but truly it goes by too fast with kids. I remember working so hard to stay pregnant, then helping her figure out how to drink from a bottle. Follow that with months of P/T getting her to crawl and walk. Now she has legs up to her armpits, is taller than most 4th graders and looked so sweet skipping to school in the rain.
For the first time ever she didn't carry her Little Mermaid or Cinderella backpack to school. She didn't say why, but I know it's because she feels too big to outwardly show her love for them. Instead she opted for a brightly colored Hanna Andersson backpack (a gift from her Auntie) and my favorite school supply ever: a Scooby Doo Mystery Machine lunch box. Just before school though she made me promise not give away her princess backpacks.
More ugly crying.
Followed by laughing.
Always.
While in CO, I visited a dear friend from childhood battling Stage IV Renal cancer. She was my favorite friend through all the crazy adolescent antics. Always funny and incredibly beautiful, her advice on how to be a girl during the formative years of Elementary and Jr. High schools are priceless to both me and my heart. The few hours I had with her were both inspiring and heartbreaking. Sometimes the truth about our personal journey is hard to face. She seems to handle it with amazing grace, humor and remains beyond beautiful.
I also had the privilege of supporting my mother-in-law through Chemo and its aftermath as she fights breast cancer. She's pretty amazing and although cancer is my absolute least favorite thing, it afforded me time to be with her and get to know her on a different level which in and of itself was a gift. Time with people, when it's real, always is.
She's a strong and very real lady and able to see the humor in the awful and made me laugh many times. I kept thinking of that line in Steel Magnolias when Dolly Parton says, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." We shared stories like old friends and a love for Simply Lemon lemonade. I saw her fight through pain in effort to take Charlotte to the American Girl Doll Store, where Molly the doll got her ears pierced and her hair did and thought what an illustration of leading by example. She also ate my food and said it was good. For the record though, the Chemo left her unable to taste food...so don't buy it. Next step for her is Radiation, which I hope brings an easier road.
It was fun for the kids to have time with her, and all the grandparents for that matter. We miss them all so much living up here. We had it good when a visit with them was just a phone call away. I'm pretty sure my kids miss the daily chocolate chip or M&M pancakes courtesy of Grandpa Ted, now that they're back to my oatmeal. (Whenever I make it I swear I hear them whispering in their best Tiny Tim voices, "More please.")
Eli continues to be the source of great humor and feist. He's a joy and a big fat handful of naughty. Just when I start to really worry about his behavior and begin Googling medical conditions for children, he cracks a funny or does something amazingly smart and sweet. He's a treasure and so beautiful with his big brown eyes. He starts preschool next week and is both excited and proud.
My favorite Eli story of late: I recently told Charlotte all the Colorado sun made her hair a bit red. To which she responded, "I noticed too and I've always wanted to be a red head!" I thought it was funny, since she's only seven. Then out of nowhere, Eli says, "Yeah, well my hair is turning GREEN (pronounced gween)," and then died laughing at his own joke. For the record his hair is not green and never will be unless he gets creative in his teen years.
Last week my first baby started 2nd Grade. Insert ugly cry. I don't mean to sound like a Hallmark commercial, but truly it goes by too fast with kids. I remember working so hard to stay pregnant, then helping her figure out how to drink from a bottle. Follow that with months of P/T getting her to crawl and walk. Now she has legs up to her armpits, is taller than most 4th graders and looked so sweet skipping to school in the rain.
For the first time ever she didn't carry her Little Mermaid or Cinderella backpack to school. She didn't say why, but I know it's because she feels too big to outwardly show her love for them. Instead she opted for a brightly colored Hanna Andersson backpack (a gift from her Auntie) and my favorite school supply ever: a Scooby Doo Mystery Machine lunch box. Just before school though she made me promise not give away her princess backpacks.
More ugly crying.
Followed by laughing.
Always.
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