One very saddened momma...

The other day I encountered what I believe is one of the most heart-wrenching moments a mom of a little girl can have. My sweet and usually very chatty baby girl (I say baby girl, because that is what she will always be to me!, but she is 6 years old, so not exactly a baby anymore) was uncharacteristically quiet and pensive after school one afternoon.  I asked her what was wrong, and got this ache in the pit of my stomach as the tears starting spilling out of those sad green eyes.  It didn't take her long to spit out that she "needed to go on a diet, and she was really sad about it."

I tried to wipe the incredulousness off my face and attempt to regain my composure before asking…no insisting she tell me what on earth gave her that idea!  Her sweet voice was quivering as she told me that "all the girls in my class said they only weigh XX pounds, and when I told them I weigh XX pounds they told me I was fat and needed to lose weight, and the only way to do that was to go on a diet." These were her words verbatim. 

I was appalled, discouraged, angry and so heart-broken for my baby girl.  She has been so blissfully innocent til this point of all things bully-ish, and I was just so saddened that at 6 years old, in a Christian school, my 1st grader is already being bombarded with this 'ideal image' that the world pushes on us, and in all reality, being subjected to a form of bullying because of it.  And all because she ways 7-10 pounds more than most girls in her class.

I still wouldn't think the situation was right even if my daughter was overweight, but the thing is she's not!  Is she a bit stockier than some? Sure.  But she's also far stronger than most her age, and she does gymnastics weekly, plays soccer almost year-round, jumps on the trampoline, and is in every sense of the word a VERY active girl. This is not a girl who binges on cupcakes and soda when she gets home from school while planted in front of the TV.

I realize at this point that I potentially sound like a momma bear coming to the defense of her baby cub…and perhaps I am. But how unhealthy for a 6 year old to hear such words? To be ridiculed for the way she looks? 

My sweet baby girl has most definitely inherited my body shape…she looks like a sports player! She is not particularly tall, and she has some pretty muscular legs for a wee one.  There are times I feel sorry for her, knowing that there will be days in the future when she may curse her body shape, just as I have.

But  hopefully there will be a life of many good moments….moments where she loves her curves, moments that she loves her strength, moments that she enjoys that she can kick the ball farther than the boys and moments where she knows she can hold her own in a push and shove situation.  (Not that I'm condoning violence or fighting, but rather the ability to stand up for herself)

This scenario my baby girl experienced at school has taken me a week or more to process, and just as long to come up with a game plan.  You see, I already tell my kiddos they are wonderful, and I have told bubba that he is "my handsome lil man" and baby girl knows that her daddy & I think she's absolutely beautiful just the way God made her.  But it did get me thinking…perhaps there is more I can do so ensure that my kids maintain a healthy self-image, and maintain a healthy living /eating  active lifestyle?

So here's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to come up with a game plan, and kick it off with the beginning of a new year.  I think it's ironic that it times right at the beginning of a New Year….as I am quite adamantly opposed to New Years resolutions.  But nonetheless, I think I'll try it anyways….I'll fill you in on all the details of said game plan soon.

I would be very intrigued though if any of you have encountered this situation with your wee ones?  How did you handle it?  What did you say? 

I'm still reeling…and saddened tremendously for my baby girl.

Music....It does a soul good!

Yesterday the hubs & I had a real treat…we splurged this year on tickets to the Trans Siberian Orchestra for his birthday! I wish the day was just a joyous occasion from start to finish, but it wasn't.  We had a somewhat crazy morning getting out of our house for some reason…the kiddos weren't quite cooperating, the dog was hiding, and we were both really tired from a late night Saturday night.  We just couldn't seem to get our act together, and this made for a few whines and complaints from everyone (okay more than just a few!) along the way. 

The trip from our door to the grandparents door is just a mere 2 hours, and yet it dragged on. For.e.ver.  Needless to say my attitude was pretty crummy the entire car ride. I am behind on several house projects, multiple Addie & Andy orders and Christmas…so I was already feeling overwhelmed.  Than to top it off, I was feeling pretty lousy…this morning, at exactly 9:07 I figured out why when out of no where it struck...the stomach bug / flu bug my kiddos passed around all last week.  Fabulous! But I digress….

We dropped our kiddos off with Grannie & Pawpaw, ate a quick bite of lunch with them, then dashed out the door.  We did take an extra minute to grab a Starbucks on our way, which was I'm sure a welcomed momentary reprive for the hubs from my attitude. Coffee or chocolate, works for me every time! Even better when it's coffee AND chocolate!!

Then the frantic, rushed panicky part of going to this concert resumed.  You see, I hate people. Well, that's not true. I don’t really 'hate' people, I just greatly despise large crowds of people.  I get panicky, overwhelmed and clausterphobic when I'm sandwiched in between hundreds of other people.  And even more so when those hundreds of people are rude and inconsiderate, pushing you out of the way so they can arrive at their seat less than 30 seconds ahead of you!  I just don’t get it.  Crowds of people I mean.  And I have several friends who LOVE that kind of a scenario….I'm convinced they are crazy!

And there is the parking.  To curb my slight panic attacks, I always leave my house at least 20 minutes  in addition to driving time just to accommodate finding a parking space.  I'm not even talking a front door parking space, I'm just talking a decent, within walking distance, safe parking space. I just hate being late to things.  And if there's a chance I'll be late then I'll arrive very early.  I would much rather arrive really hurry and have time to answer a quick email or update FB or grab a coffee than to arrive late…because to me, being late = frantic panic attack! The hubs however, couldn't be more polar opposite.  He would be fine leaving the house at the time the event starts, and just assumes he will find a parking space…AND this doesn't bother him in the least!

And then there were the seats. Even though we did splurge on tickets, we didn't splurge on the really good floor seats, or even the first level up seats, we splurged on the second level up seats, on the side of the arena, almost even with the stage.  And to top it off, there were these 4 huge, I mean HUGE round light things (I'm sure there is a technical term for those!) that were hovering right over the stage, completely blocking our view!

I realize I should've just been grateful for the money to buy the tickets in the first place, and I should've been grateful for the opportunity to be there in person regardless of where we sat, but I still felt the need to whine & complain about what crummy seats we had, and how if we only had money we could have had 'real' seats!  Wow. Yep, I really did that.  To the hubs, who has had this concert on his birthday wish-list for literally years.  And the first chance we get to go, I spoil the mood by my snotty comments, and my inability to not stress over the stupid things…like parking & people!

As the concert started, what do you know!? The giant round light things started to move, up and up and up….till we had a fairly unobstructed view of the stage from our seats! And even though I was very thankful they moved, since that was my chief complaint, I still was unwilling to let go completely of my crummy attitude….even half-way through when I realized, huh, I'm kinda enjoying myself!  Duh!  I mean, who wouldn't love a rock-opera concert, live, without kiddos, on a Sunday afternoon, with the hubs!?

I felt pretty darn petty after that moment of realization….and yet I still didn't say anything to the hubs.  For some reason I felt I needed to still display that icy, snotty attitude I had that started apparently the moment I rolled out of bed. 

This morning I realized several things; first, the reason I felt so horrible physically was because I was coming down with a bug….second, I realized I had no business acting like I did just because I felt lousy. I was behaving like a spoiled brat instead of being grateful and relishing the opportunity to indulge in a treat we rarely have.  So, to the hubs, I am sorry!

And lastly, music speaks to my soul.  I have known this for a long time, I love most anything music related. It's why I chose a degree in Music-piano for my Bachelors, it's why I tear up at even the most ridiculous songs, and why I was practically bawling yesterday during the concert at one of the violin parts.  There is something about music that just grips your heart, reaching it oftentimes where words alone cannot, softening…if even just a bit…a hardened heart.

This is another component of my 'dance in the rain' journey….reinstating music into my life.  I suffered a dog bite that ruined part of my arm, and to this day makes it extremely painful and tedious to play piano for extended periods of time.  This injury, combined with no longer having a place on the church worship team, and not having anything to study music for has seriously depleted my soul.  I would even say it sent me into a slight depression for several years.  I have realized that I need music, I need that outlet, I need others around me in a musical capacity.

I have this friend who apparently must have glimpsed this need in me and started pulling me back into music through accompanying for a couple different choirs.  Nothing big, nothing too difficult, and nothing too performance driven, but just a little something to force me to get back in the habit of practicing.

It took the concert yesterday, even though it took over half of the concert before I could realize it, to acknowledge that music really does  awaken a part of me that was perhaps not dead, but very much asleep.  I am so thankful for the chance to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra in person, for the hubs who puts up with me, and for this particular friend who has pushed me re incorporate a vital part of my life, music.

kicking chemo days to the curb...

A bit of honesty over here….and a call for accountability.  The last few days have been extremely emotional and downright depressing for me. I realize this is coming just after Thanksgiving...what should be one of the most uplifting and non-depressing times of the year!  But nonetheless, here I sit, and contemplate and wallow in self-pity over the things I can't do.  I am not talking about 'things I don't have' so much as I'm talking about the energy, motivation, and gusto  (Do people even use that word anymore!?) to complete tasks and do those fun things that are part of what makes this time of year so enjoyable.

This time of year is my absolute favorite!  For me, it is a chance to make lasting, creative and fun memories with my family and friends. Like sipping hot cocoa on a bitter cold day, sledding with the kiddos & our youth group, Christmas music, ice-skating, cozy sweaters and fuzzy shoes and of course, snow!  And then there's the snow days off of school, where the kiddos  & I get to bake and drink hot chocolate with more marshmallows than liquid, and make snow angels, and stay in our PJ's til noon if we want! I just absolutely adore this time of year, and even more so that my kids are a bit older. I love seeing the delight on their faces, and hearing them tell strangers that 'Christmas is NOT about Santa or presents, but baby Jesus being born!' I'm quite positive that knowing that your kids know the REAL meaning of Christmas makes celebrating this time of year even more special!

And yet, like so many other people, I find that this time of year is also my very busiest….to-do lists all over the house, shopping lists a mile long, and the frantic-ness that ensues when I try to make Thanksgiving & Christmas  'perfect' for everyone.  I am a planner and an organizer, combine that with quite a bit of OCD-ness and you get a whole lot of  "but it HAS to be this way!"

When I was diagnosed with cancer almost 2 1/2 years ago, I knew my life would change. I knew my body would never be the same, and I knew that life as I knew it would never be the same.  I had to quit my business as a Wedding Planner because the stress was too intense for me.  I had to cut back on activities because I just didn't have the strength.  I had to start taking more naps, just to be awake and somewhat energetic when my kiddos came home from school.  Little did I know that 2 1/2 years later I would STILL be dealing with some of these issues.

I still have what a few other B.C. (Breast Cancer) Survivors and I have affectionately termed, 'Chemo Days.'  If you have never experienced chemotherapy personally or been around someone that has, Chemotherapy is downright nasty stuff. When they pump you full of cancer-killing drugs, sometimes you wonder if the side-effects of chemo are actually worth it.  Everyone reacts differently to chemo, and there are several different types of chemo given depending upon what type of cancer you have.  For me, Chemo meant lots and lots of vomiting, severe aching, and an overwhelming sense of extreme fatigue.  I remember walking into the grocery store one day just to pick up a few things and the second I walked through those doors I was so tired, I mean a tired like I had never felt before.  I felt like I had to lie down, right there on that welcome mat! I just turned around and walked right back out to my car and took a nap so I could have the energy to drive home. 

I have heard from several other BC survivors that it can take years for these days to pass. I don't have them everyday of course, but I still have them more often that I would like.  Lately I have been consumed with these days. Angry that I still have to go through them, I mean wasn't fighting cancer enough in the first place!??  I get so depressed that the simple task of cleaning my home regularly is just plain exhausting.  And I get so frustrated that the to-do list with only the 'must be done' (ha!) things on it requires sitting down or taking a nap in the middle of it all.  My ability to function at full-speed from dawn to dusk is gone.  And it angers me.  It frustrates me. But worse, it makes me feel like a failure.

I KNOW I am not a failure, I KNOW I am blessed with a hubs that couldn't care less if the dishes sit there one more day (and for that matter, I'm not even sure he notices!) and I KNOW that having my home spotless every day is not a necessity…and I KNOW that sewing that dress that would look just adorable on my baby girl just doesn't matter….but it still bothers me, and it still creates a small panic attack.

I had a minor change of heart last night. (I say minor because I know what I should do, but in my stubbornness I am still not fully embracing what this means…but hey, I'm working on it!) I sat (and still sit!) looking at these 5 stupid plastic storage tubs crowding my living room and silently driving me insane. These same 5 tubs have occupied the same space now for almost 2 months!  I just can't seem to get to them… but I insist on putting them in the middle of the common space so I will be forced to reckon with them….and in my perfect world, they would be dealt with appropriately before dragging down all the Christmas decorations from the attic! 

However, my perfect world apparently isn't always the way I should view things or prioritize. For example, Conrad & the kids bought and put up the Christmas tree last night, and they were so excited to decorate it! But my thought process went a little something like this…'If we drag down all the Christmas decorations tonight then there will be a million things to put away, and then I'll have to dust all those shelves before I can put anything up there, and then I'll have to…..and I know how exhausted I'll be after a couple boxes, so therefore I just will hold off until I have a bit more energy.  And my children went to bed sad and greatly annoyed that mom was such a grouch about putting up decorations. Ugh.

Here's the thing I've come to realize, but unfortunately have no idea yet how to enforce or adhere to.  I realize that my 'chemo days' will always be there. There will always be those annoying 5 tubs of things to put away or things to do…but I know I don't want to steal away memories from my family because it would be too exhausting for me.  I know that I am tired of stressing over a house that is not cleaned to my standards, and I am tired of fretting over 'time lost' when I have to pause and take a nap.

So, with that in mind, I will do my utmost to not sweat the small stuff, to relish and enjoy my nap times, I'll attempt to not think of myself as failing when I simply can't do something right now, and I will delight with my children in opening all those Christmas decorations…even if it means we may still be unpacking Christmas decorations AFTER Christmas!

thoughts of thanksgiving...

Every year when this time of year rolls around, I find myself thinking ahead…thinking mostly of the wonderful holidays that are about to come, and thinking of yet another year imminently closer. I typically find myself thinking so far ahead that I fail to relish or dwell 'in the moment' for just a bit longer.  This year, unfortunately, was no exception.  I don't intend to do this, but it happens before I know it. 

   In our home growing up, Thanksgiving was always a time to spend time with not just family, but friends too.   My parents were always inviting others over for Thanksgiving dinner, and many of the fond memories I have about Thanksgiving are a direct result of having these extra friends around our table. My parents would invite anyone they knew without a family to spend Thanksgiving with over for the day.  Single moms, bachelors, college kids, elderly…it didn't matter, they were all welcome! 

In fact, as I sit here writing this tonight, there is a dear friend playing games with mom, who I remember at our Thanksgiving table since I was a wee child.  In the other room I hear another familiar voice present at every Thanksgiving table. This year however, there were a few voices absent.  About the time I realized these voices were missing, was about the same time that it dawned on me that this year my father did not insist on the annual "What are you thankful for circle."

You know what I'm talking about, where you go around the circle, person to person and say something that you are thankful for.  I must admit, I hated this circle as I was growing up! It always just seemed a bit cheesy and overused.  "I'm thankful for my family, my friends and my health" could potentially be the most overused sentence.  Ever.  Okay, maybe not, but in my world it seems to be said quite often. Obviously these are not bad things to be thankful for,  and yes, I am thankful for each of those things too, but it just seems so carelessly spoken and casually tossed around that I get a bit irked by the pat answers sometimes. 

Tonight as I was watching the kiddos play with the cousins, harass my parents, and both delight and annoy the extra friends at our table, I realized I missed the 'Thanksgiving Circle Time.'  Believe me, I did not miss the cheesiness and repetitive answers; but I did miss the coming together of multiple generations and families,  I missed the tradition of it all, and I missed hearing about the things and people that do mean a lot to others. 

Over the years the hubs and I have had what seems like a multitude of people stay in our home...over 22 foster children, family members, and several friends just needing a temporary home. Many times people have questioned 'the extras' living in our home and sitting at our table, and not once have I ever wondered WHY we do it. (although sometimes we've questioned the WHO!)  There has just simply never been an option to NOT share our home with others.  And today, on Thanksgiving Day, it has occurred to me that the reason I am this way, is all because my parents chose to spend time and energy instilling in me a compassion for others.  And that, is just ONE of the many things I am thankful for today!

the beginning of it all...

"Life is not about the storm, it's about learning to dance in the rain."  This is the phrase that started it all. Well, technically it took a reeling diagnosis of Breast Cancer to start my journey, but this phrase is what truly gave me the kick in the pants I needed to start living as though I am 'dancing in the rain.' 

Shortly after being diagnosed with Breast Cancer on May 10, 2010, a friend took me out for dinner and handed me a little pink journal, and inside was written that quote.  Just a simple quote, and in all honestly, at the time was just another  quippy quote, but not particularly meaningful or helpful.  However, later that night while I was reading bedtime stories to my kiddos, I started wondering how in the world I was going to tell them about my cancer. I mean, how do you explain to 3 & 6 year old's that mommy is really sick, that soon she'll be bald, throwing up all the time,  or so tired she can't get off the couch? 

That sobering thought hit me like a freight train, and thankfully something inside me woke up.  I realized there is SO much truth in that little quote.  Life is one big storm, there will always be problems, there will always been sickness and bumps along the path….how I choose to handle my journey with cancer is something that not only I will have to live with, but my kids too, and everyone else around me. 

I wasn't quite sure how this 'dancing in the rain' bit worked, but I knew for certain what I didn't want! I didn't want by babies to see their momma as weak,  without hope, or wallowing in self pity.  I wanted them to see me strong, to watch me fight, to know that I have hope! So with that new outlook, I began what I call my 'dancing in the rain' journey. 

The journey that began 2.5 years ago has been one giant emotional roller coaster, as one might expect when that nasty word 'cancer' is uttered.  I have filled many journals to overflowing, all of which remain unread by anyone other than me, and yet I still have words that need sound, tears that need shed, and emotions that need expressing.  As I was growing up, to really wrap my head around what I was going through, I started journaling…incessantly.  This blog is an extension of that journaling process.  But hopefully it will be a blog about encouragement, about sharing my struggles and my dreams so that someday, somewhere, somehow it might help even just one other person to learn that life is worth living, and begin their own 'Dance in the Rain!'