Smelling Some Roses

LIving Life in A Pandemic (COVID-19)

noreply@blogger.com (Colleen Hyman) — Sat, 11 Jul 2020 21:41:00 +0000

In January, 2020 I heard about this aggressive spreading virus that surfaced in Wuhan, China. It was leveling Wuhan and forced China to lockdown citizens to lessen the spread. But not without some viruses escaping.

As an American living so many thousands of miles and oceans apart that it was a concern in the back of my head, but felt it's in China how can it make its way to me? Then in February there was a burst of cases in Italy. My husband, kids and I were planning on a March Spring Break trip to Portugal. The thought that the virus had made its way to Europe was a bit unsettling. Looking at a map, Portugal is several countries away from Italy, so we should be okay - right? Northern Italy was invaded by the virus to the point that hospitals ran out of room and proper equipment to treat patients, forcing medical professionals to decide which patients were "worth" treating/saving.

I was tracking the data to determine where Portugal was with cases. Up until about 3 weeks before we were set to depart for Portugal, Portugal was Covid-19 free. When Portugal recorded its first cases of the virus, that put an end to our trip. We cancelled (or better stated indefinitely postponed) our trip. The risk was beginning to outweigh the benefit, especially given at this point in time no one really understood the virus and the medical havoc it caused. We just knew people were dying; and a lot of people were becoming ill.

The first U.S. case was not far behind with a cluster on a Japanese cruise ship, a cluster in the State of Washington and New York City. New York City was riddled with cases to the point, physicians and nurses were called in from other States to assist with care.

Since no one could reassure us that my son, who has Noonan Syndrome and all the medical issues it comes with, would be okay if he contracted the virus. I was getting very concerned that going to Portugal would be a tough situation given we don't speak the language and I have no idea how their healthcare system is and countries were beginning to shutdown limiting people in and out. Collectively as a family we decided to cancel the trip in March with the intent to reschedule when living with a pandemic is over. To say the decision was hard to swallow would be an understatement. Telling your son who has celiac that he can't have the McDonald's french fries he was so looking forward to (Portugal's McDonald's fry their french fries in a separate frier where most other countries do not), hit like a ton of bricks to the heart. Not to mention we all needed a vacation in the worst way.

Come mid-March, the kids were told to gather their belongings at school as they were going to learn remotely. My company and my husband's firm both moved to remote working with only essential visits to our offices. The thought was this was going to be a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months tops. Today, I'm still working remotely (going into the offices for essential reasons) and my husband is still home working and it's been over 4 months with a minimum of 2-3 more months of remote working. My kids will go back to school, but it will be much different than what they are used to and they will be required to wear masks all day.

Since mid-March we have spent most of our time taking miles upon miles of walks. It took us until June to begin ordering food for carry out. My husband was the lone person in my house going into public to shop for groceries and other essential items with shopping runs as early in the day as possible. Coming home stripping down and taking a shower. I would wipe down all the items requiring refrigeration or freezing and place them in their respective places. We left food sitting in the car for days because the information on how long the virus stayed on surfaces was all over the place.

As our state began loosening the lockdown, we slowly have allowed ourselves to explore home improvement stores. We allowed ourselves to get together with others but only for social distancing visits. And with all shopping excursions, masks have been worn and hand washing to the point of sore dry skin.

We wear masks whenever we know we will be near people and where we know we will not be able to social distance 6-9 feet apart.

This lifestyle has been exhausting, especially for a person like myself who has high anxiety to begin with.

Today, the Covid-19 numbers continue to climb at a rapid pace with no decrease in sight.

Somehow, this pandemic became political. It was unfortunate that the timing of the pandemic happens to be around the United States next presidential election. I often wonder, if the president had not had to worry about re-election, maybe he would have gone about things in a much more safe and well calculated manner. Maybe if he didn't have to worry about the economy tanking or the unemployment rates climbing, he would have thought about the big picture instead of worrying about re-election.

The heated debates over everything revolving around the pandemic is mind-numbing at times, if not extremely exhausting. You begin to see true colors of people. I'm not without sin. I have opinions, many of them are strong. I make it a point more often than not to listen/hear the other side, mostly because I don't like to be wrong and look foolish, and not necessarily because I think someone is right and I am wrong. People I have respected in the past, I am now questioning our friendships/relationships. I'm finding so many to be selfish in their interests and actions. As they say, it take a crisis to truly know who your friends and foe are.

As a person with a biomedical engineering background, the science/medical part of this virus scares me. It has a mind of it's own and it manifests its medical evils in so many different ways. We all thought that the old, medically compromised were at risk. It is not the case. Medical professionals are finding young folks with no underlying medical issues are also at risk. And it's like a crap-shoot too, no rhyme or reason why some are affected so badly while others fair much better. One thing that is for sure, is we have no idea what the long term effects will be with those who have gotten the virus and made it to the otherside unscaved. I guess time will tell.

The whole debate of wearing masks is the silliest in my humble opinion. If you get a good one that fits you well, they are not so bad. Not ideal to wear one in 90F+ degree heat and high humidity - but I certainly would take this over being intubated and stuck to a ventilator for days/weeks. Or finding I had a stroke from a blood clot and I will need countless hours of physical/occupational/speech therapy to be a fraction of myself again. Or needing kidney dialysis for the rest of my life.

The other thing that I feel no one truly has considered is how financially crippling the medical costs can be with this pandemic on it's victims and their families. Let's say you are one of the unlucky ones that after trying everything else, the doctors determine the ventilator is your last resort. That alone is unsettling because it means you have at best 50/50 chance of fighting the virus and getting better. So you are intubated, hooked up to the ventilator and you are on it for 14 days (which seems to be the minimum time one spends on it). Based on first hand costs of a family member being on a ventilator for 2-days prior to being taken off to die peacefully, the cost was approximately $50,000 USD for a single day. Multiply this by 14 days and you are looking at $700,000 USD. Let's say you have relatively decent insurance like I do. After meeting my deductible, I'm still required to pay 20% of the cost of my hospitalization, including the use of the ventilator. The cost of just the ventilator under my plan would require me to pay $140,000 USD. Now mind you, this is just the ventilator, this doesn't include the ICU room, hospital charges, physicians, medicines, lab work, etc. You see where this is going???

If we all did our part by wearing a mask in public, especially where there are others around and you cannot keep 9 feet between you and the other person, and in indoors for sure - the $12.00 USD mask (x 7 days and in my case x 4 people = $336.00 USD) may be the best money spent!

My hope is that my family and I make it to the otherside of the pandemic without the virus. That a vaccination can be developed to allow for immunity, even if it's only good for 12 months. I am okay with doing my part annually getting the flu shot, I have no issues with adding a Covid-19 shot to my shot list.

I wish you well. Please be smart about what you do every day. Although I am not scared of dying, it doesn't mean I don't want to be around to watch my kids grow-up and have their own kids and so on. If we all do our part, we will make it to the otherside.

Parenthood .... 11 1/2 years later

noreply@blogger.com (Colleen Hyman) — Mon, 06 Jul 2020 17:58:00 +0000

My blog was established by my husband as a Valentine's Day gift while my youngest child, my son was in the hospital. The blog was created as a place and means for me to exercise writing therapy. As time passed, and my life was filled with a full-time job, kids in school full-time, and with school and extracurricular activities my life became too busy to even think about therapy writing.

Apparently I was so busy 3 years ago that I never published this blog.

Over the last several weeks .... and as infants turn to toddlers, toddlers to preschoolers, preschoolers to elementary schooler and now embarking upon the middle-schooler phase with my oldest child; I'm finding I need a little mom-writing therapy again.

Sometimes the best messages and advice a parent shares land in the eyes of your child in unconventional ways ... I found out that my 11 year old daughter has been reading my blog. She has read the blog to get to know what makes me ... ME.

So I'm dedicating my blog today to my awesome 11 year old daughter, whom I love with my whole heart, Norah.

Dear Norah,

I wanted to let you get to know me, when I was 11 year old.

I was an awkward middle-schooler, and has I turned 11 and was in 6 grade, I had the worst case of acne that leveled my self-esteem. I wasn't a "cool kid" but I wasn't "a loser kid" either. I just WAS. My first 2 years of high school weren't much better, especially not until I was able to acquire a prescription medication (Accutane) that cleared up my complexion, giving me some confidence and feeling prettier than I had ever felt during my frightful time in puberty. I had to wait to feel somewhat good about myself until I was 16 years old.

This week as I saw you collapse in a bundle of nerves, flesh and bones - feeling the pressure of life swallowing you up, chewing you up and spitting you out and not knowing how to cope, I saw myself. I saw me as an eleven year old girl who was struggling with friendships, confidence, school and my body changing from little girl to a young lady. It was at this time in my life that the boys in my neighborhood I use to play baseball, football and basketball realizing that I was a "girl" and not like them. I saw them avoiding me and not allowing me to join them in the sports I enjoyed playing, and when I finally asked why being told "because you are a girl". I was taken by surprise by their seemingly delayed revelation as I was "always a girl", I hadn't changed my birth given sex. This was brutally hard for me to accept, to be rejected. The only children my age in my neighborhood were boys. My best friend had moved away a year earlier and replacing that friendship was not easy.

I played sports at school, I was a basketball player on the junior high B team. The A team was the better players comprised of 7th and 8th graders; I was in 6th grade, and I was "just OK". I think I scored a whole-whopping 4 points that season. In addition, I joined the drill team that performed at the annual St. Patrick's Day parade and twirled a baton and practiced every Friday afternoon from November until the Friday before St. Patrick's Day. As I recall this time in my life, I can hear you poking fun at me in my head, because this was "so not a cool" activity. Nothing like your School of Rock shows.

I was an okay student, I mostly received Bs but sprinkle in some A's and C's. I was not a "gifted" student, and worked very hard to get the grades I received. I had no academic self-confidence, as I was told by a teacher a year earlier while in 5th grade that I was not smart enough to be the veterinarian I had dreamt of being. Meanwhile, she was telling my bestie that she was smart enough to be whatever she wanted to be. It was a conversation that haunts me to this very day.

I remember sleepless nights because my mind didn't know how to shut-down and relax. I remember days where I felt food was overrated. I remember days where all I wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep all day and be in the comforting company of my Mom.

This past week I experienced through the eyes of you, my 11 year old daughter, what it is like to be 11 in today's world. I see a young lady, who is by all accounts beautiful on the inside and outside, full of many talents, a kind soul, an extremely conscientious person, good friend and an intelligent person.

My 11 year old life was much simpler than your 11 year old life. I grew-up with just a TV, record player, radio, first generation video games and outdoor activities as a distraction. There were no computers, no internet, no YouTube, no FaceBook, Instagram, no mobile phones, no text messages, etc. If I wanted to talk to a friend, I picked up the phone and called them or road my bike to their house.

Norah, you are an amazing, beautiful, talented, kind-hearted, intelligent young lady of 14 years old. This blog is for you!

I'm Prejudice - and I'm not proud of it

noreply@blogger.com (Colleen Hyman) — Wed, 13 Jul 2016 21:12:00 +0000

I was born at the back-end of the Civil Rights Movement, so I wasn't exposed to what had transpired over the course of the 1950s-1960s as I was too young to understand. By the time I was intelligent enough to know there were differences in people, the differences didn't have to do with race, religion, etc. a person was. My thought process was probably more like who was nicer to me and likely who was prettier or more handsome.

I went to a Catholic elementary school in the outskirts of a metropolitan city, just barely within the city limits and teetering on the edge of the suburbs. I lived in a city where within the city limits the whites lived on the one side of town and the blacks lived on the other side. My exposure to the opposite side of towns was very limited at best. Diversity in my school was non-existing - we were all white Catholic kids. Just about 1/2 a mile away from my school there was public housing or better known as "the projects". This was where the few African-Americans lived along with economically challenged whites. Crime was not a problem in my neighborhood, but we were always warned about "the projects". It was instilled in our heads that it wasn't safe to hang around there.

The city I grew up in instituted desegregated busing for the schools. Adults on my side of town were nervous and mad that the white kids were forced to go to schools on the other side of town where the schools were not as "good" and the African-American kids would be infiltrating the white side of town, what would this cause?

My exposure to diversity was very limited and happened maybe once a year when we went on a field trip to the Supplemental Educational Center in the city. This Center was a multi-learning facility that brought the city public schools and city Catholic schools together. I thought it was really neat and I remember meeting African-American kids and thinking they were just like me, but also felt sorry for them because I thought they were very poor, because that was the notion placed in my head because the only African-American's I knew lived in "the projects".

So you get the idea that my environment shaped my early opinion of African-Americans. Pretty sad and unfortunate. But this is done all the time to young impressionable kids.

When I went away to college, one of my best friends was an African-American girl. We both were struggling through our engineering classes so we had a mutual bond. She, however, had a great support group in the all black fraternity - and I would periodically go with her to the fraternity house and study and get tutored in Calculus and Physics. These guys were great guys and very helpful. Without some of their patience and assistance, I would have struggled much worse than I did in these courses. I remember one day walking through campus with some of my friends and a couple of the African-American guys from the fraternity stopped me to say hello and ask me how my classes were going. My friends were irritated and were taken back that I knew these guys. A response that surprised and saddened me.

I ended up finishing my undergrad in my hometown at the local university. Diversity was much better realized in this environment and I felt much more at home. I would take public transportation to school most days and random African-American guys would choose to sit next to me, just to talk to me. I had a few African-American guys in my night classes, and they would insist on walking me to my car just to make sure I made it to my car safely.

As I grow older, I find that as a woman, I am better respected and treated much more like a lady by random African-American gentlemen than I do by male counterparts of my own race. I find they are quick to open a door for me as I walk into a building, and often pay random compliments.

All these experiences have reframed my opinion of African-Americans. However, I would be lying to myself and to you if I said I was without prejudice. Yesterday, I was listening to an excerpt of President Obama's Dallas Memorial speech while driving in my car yesterday.

But America, we know that bias remains. We know it, whether you are black, or white, or Hispanic, or Asian, or native American, or of Middle Eastern descent, we have all seen this bigotry in our own lives at some point. We’ve heard it at times in our own homes. If we’re honest, perhaps we’ve heard prejudice in our own heads and felt it in our own hearts. We know that. And while some suffer far more under racism’s burden, some feel to a far greater extent discrimination’s stain. Although most of us do our best to guard against it and teach our children better, none of us is entirely innocent. No institution is entirely immune, and that includes our police departments. We know this.

This was the first speech that I felt the President gave during his 8 years in office that had some substance and so much truth behind it. It was like I did an examination of my conscience and realized that if I'm really going to be truthful, I harbor prejudices. I'm not proud of this, but realize I am only human. And the first course of action to fix an imperfection is to admit you have one.

I can't begin to understand what it is like to be someone other then me. I can't begin to understand the prejudices and racism African-Americans experience.

On the flip-side, they cannot know what it is like to be me. Nor what predisposed notions were placed in my head early on in my life - no fault of anyone just it was how society was back then.

My interpretation of this problem with our society is that we all want, and we want things quickly - especially gratification. We all feel some sense of entitlement but forget that in fact none of us are entitled to anything but common decency - that, we all deserve!

Respect is something that is earned, while common decency is our entitlement.

When we treat others with common decency, we can begin to earn respect.
When we are respected by others, we begin to appreciate our differences.
When we appreciate our differences, we begin to engage in understanding.
When we understand, we become better human beings.
When we are better human beings, we become a world at peace.

I am truly sorry for my prejudices and hope to correct them overtime. Why don't you join me on this journey too!

If I were God...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 05 Oct 2015 02:41:00 +0000

If I were God ...

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

For one this whole idea that God did us a favor for giving us a free-will is overrated. Meaning, I'm not so sure it was smart of God to bestow on us this privilege because some people don't know how to use this free-will concept properly. What a waste of a beautiful world to allow free-will knowing that there will be some who will destroy this privilege by using it to do bad. So, if I were God - the only will would be good-will.
Aging - this process is so wrong. The deterioration of a robust body, the aches, the pains, the drooping of flesh, the loss of mind, the loss of strength - why? So, if I were God - we all would stop "aging" when we hit the age of say 40 - the body would remain suspended until our internal clock that would be wound up would stop ticking. And when we hit the last tick we'd peacefully and without pain and suffering stop functioning. Much like a wind up toy. The only difference is that we'd go on to the next life, just like we do now.
This whole idea of suffering. If the next world is the land of plenty, with eternal peace, love and joy - what's the point of having people suffer in this world - whether through illness, oppression, poverty etc.? He would have saved a step in this process. Doesn't seem very efficient to me. So, if I were God - I'd just cut to the chase and move us on to this eternal happy place from the start. And I know you might be thinking - well He was weeding out the troublemakers and the ones that didn't love and respect Him. But we are told He's a loving and forgiving God.

Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for life and all that I have had the pleasure of experiencing it. I could have done without some of the rough patches. But, I'm a Heaven believer, and I believe God is loving - and I just find some of these things to be out of character.

Pickle in the Middle

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 02 Nov 2014 22:08:00 +0000

Life is the ultimate game, and every day is an adventure!

When you are a little girl (and some boys too - don't want to be labeled sexist) one of the more popular imagination activities is playing house. We get our little dolls for our Birthdays, Christmas, or Hanukkah and we pretend we are mommies. We have our play kitchens with our appliances, tables and chairs, and dishes/pans and our play cradles for our baby dolls. We make imaginary dinners and have imaginary husbands (or if you were lucky enough to have a little boy willing to pretend being the husband/dad). In my case, it was an imaginary husband/dad. But I can tell you, he was molded out of the image of my Dad, he was "perfect" just like my Dad!

When I grew up, I was only blessed with one living grandparent. My Dad's Dad - my PoePoe. He was an extremely independent man who lived on his own until the day he gained his angel wings at the age of 89. He never drove, but traveled daily via public transportation or walked. I never knew him to be ill. He might have a cold here and there - but I never knew him to suffer from any medical ailment, I have no recollection of him even visiting a hospital. In simple terms, he was a pretty simple senior citizen and passed sitting in his chair after coming back from a walk to the bank during cold weather. If there were any health issues, my parents managed to shield that from us grandkids.

I fall in the gray area of generations- the very tail end of the Boomers and the beginning of Generation Xers - I got to experience some of the 1950's mentality. My Mom was our family's CEO, COO and CFO, although my dad earned the money.

It took me a while to find the right husband, my Dad was pretty hard to measure up to, you know. But I think I picked successfully - actually, I know I picked successfully! And, I was a mature first time mom and what seemed to be so easy as the little girl playing house, was a bit of a challenge in real life. Add, child #2 with Noonan Syndrome and playing house just got really complicated. The most challenging the game of "house" got was when I had 2 Baby Tender Loves - a 6 year old managing "twins".

So when I had babies of my own, I was ill prepared. I was certainly much better at managing work projects than the lives of little beings. Or at least that was my initial thought. I learned to adapt, and I do have a great helper in my husband.

I felt I was finally in a good place with raising my little ones, so I decided to go back to work. Something I never practiced when playing house - being a working mom. I mean really, I didn't have any idea of a place called daycare, or nannies when I was 6. And my mom was a stay-at-home mom, and so were most of the moms in the neighborhood.

I finally make this switch to working mom and the pendulum swings a different way. My parents begin to have the challenges that come with growing older. They see more doctors, they require more medication, there are more hospital visits and their mobility and independence begins to lessen. They are finding they are relying on their children more and its difficult for them to accept. It's hard for the kids to accept too, but not in the way they might think. Its just hard to see vibrant go-getting people forced to slow down. I hate sometime treating them like they are kids, and I try very hard to weigh my words because they are still my parents, and I have no right to tell them what to do. I can only offer my thoughts and allow them to make decisions.

Again, while playing house at the age of 6, I had no idea that growing up would come with not only managing children but also being available for aging parents, and helping to meet their needs.

As medicine progresses and allows us all to live longer, there will always be a generation that becomes the "pickle in the middle". Those managing children and aging parents.

To my parents - I love you both to infinity and beyond and I feel honored I get the opportunity to help you navigate through this stage of life. Thank you for being the people I try to emulate.

Wrinkles of Time....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 25 Oct 2014 18:39:00 +0000

I'm going through a midlife crisis! It's called vanity.

I feel younger and thinner it's the mirror that reflects something different. Damn mirror!

I've always acted younger than my chronological age, strictly due to self-imposed immaturity. Let's face it no one wants to grow old. What fun is there in doing that? I married later in life, had kids later too - I'm just slow to mature mentally.

But....time keeps ticking and the cells of the body continue to get older and there is nothing you can do about that. Not even the best plastic surgery can stop time and aging - they can only mask it with Botox and surgeries.

I look at pictures from when I got married 11 years ago. I see why my husband found me attractive and I'm certainly lucky I caught him when I did - it was probably the point in my life where I peaked in body beautiful. Ok - that sounds really arrogant - and I'm so not like that. But compared to the teenager I was, wearing glasses, braces and acne and the person I've become in my (gasp) late 40s - flabby well- worn childbearing gut, gray hairs hidden by color treatments and fine and deep creases in my face. I can call my 20s-30s my body beautiful years.

I'm not sure when I've become vain, I think it started last winter when I went back to my former employer after 10 years and realized we all had changed - then I looked in the mirror and realized I did too.

I recently had family photographs taken by a really good friend. I was eager to see them but worried I wouldn't like what I saw as it pertained to me. A couple of days ago I read an article about things dying people regret the most. The number one thing was not loving their body. Not respecting it and not embracing this shell that houses our souls. It was a very profound article, and it made me think that I do need to give credit to this body that houses my soul. It allows me to walk, drive, exercise, bear children, hug my kids and my husband. Without it I wouldn't be me.

We got the pictures and they were beautifully done and I loved them, I did struggle with a few of the close up face shots where you can see the creases - but I looked in the mirror this morning and I didn't see any creases. When I looked stern or tried a sad face I didn't see any creases. I smiled - guess what I saw?

I'll be damned .... It's all the smiling, fun times, happiness and laughter that caused these creases. So I guess my creases on my face are like rings on a tree trunk, measuring the sheer joy life has given me. My natural permanent tattoos checking off years and years of happiness!

So the next time I look at a woman's face and see creases, I'll just know that she must have had a lot of pleasure and laughter in her life! And when you look at me, I hope you think the same!

Bis zum nächsten zeit ...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 09 Jun 2014 13:55:00 +0000

This blog is dedicated to my German Daughter, Zarah and her wonderful family.

Often times you need to open up your circle to invite new experiences in. I'm somewhat of an adventurer, I do like to go to new places, meet new people and do new things. Ten months ago my family and I opened up our circle and invited in a young lady from Germany to immerse herself into our family. I'm not so sure "immerse" is the right word - lets say she stole a bunch of hearts, tattooed them with her impression and gave them back to us in grand order.

Today we closed a chapter in our lives … and it was much like a novel that you never wanted to put down and never want to end. You gamble when you host an international student for a school year. Some people had rough experiences but ours was magical. We had a wonderful experience and it spilled over into meeting her family and having the good fortune of having them stay with us for a long weekend. I now see why Zarah was such a wonderful person, she comes from wonderful parents.

The hardest part of this experience was to see my 5 year old son and 7 year old daughter sob as Zarah's car drove away. Zarah was their big sister for 10 months.

I knew it was going to be difficult today, I asked Donovan the other day if he thought he could handle a very long plane ride to Germany? He said YES with such enthusiasm. I then said to him, "well mommy and daddy will need to start saving some money for a plane ticket", to which he replied, "you can use all my money in my piggy bank"!

So Zarah, Karin, Michael and Alexa …. Bis zum nächsten zeit ...

A Chance of a Lifetime

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 27 May 2014 01:19:00 +0000

A year ago, I received an email from my daughter's K-12 school asking for host families for several foreign students. I took a look at the list and a female student jumped out at me. Funny enough, Jon was thinking the same thing and the same person jumped out at him. We decided to inquire and so goes the story of adding a teenage girl from Germany into not only our home but into our lives and hearts.

Several people thought we were nuts to allow a teenager to stay with us, in fact a couple of people said "I could never let a strange person come into my home and spend a year in my house - and a teenager? You are begging for trouble."

I am here to say that the last 10 months of my life have been a wonderful chance of a lifetime. Not only am I grateful for the opportunity to learn more about the German culture, but I have had the wonderful opportunity and pleasure to get to know a young lady, see her grow-up in 10 months time and to be her sarogate/host mom and friend.

Despite the 'can't believe you'd bring a teenager into your home' remarks, I am so glad I did! I absolutely loved having the opportunity to see the teenage side of life in the eyes of today's teenager. I was given a golden opportunity to test parent a teenage girl, so I won't be ill prepared for the day my daughter (and my son too) is a teenager.

Yes, we got lucky, that our German daughter was a good person through and through. That she became immersed into our family and embraced becoming a member of our family. I can't wait to meet her family in the coming week, to tell them face to face what an awesome daughter and sister they have and to thank them from the bottom of my heart that they allowed us to be able to have her with us for 10 months.

Her presence in our home will surely be missed! We likely will cry buckets of tears upon her departure. However, she will always hold a place in my heart (and Jon and the kids hearts too).

We know that June 10th isn't goodbye .... I have my passport so we will see each other again!

Thank you Zarah for agreeing to live with us! Thank you for your friendship! I love you! Big big hugs!

I Can Be a Proud Momma - right?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 May 2014 02:32:00 +0000

My Norah,

She amazes me with her confidence, her ability to pick up an instrument (electric guitar) and play it so easily .... and then sing and play the guitar in front of a microphone and an audience of 150+ people ..... And she's not yet 8 years old.

And she was feverish right before her performance!

She then did this all over again the next day.

But the really impressive thing was ... When she wasn't feeling well before the 'gig' she was given the opportunity to bail. With no prompting, she insisted on playing because she couldn't let her band down. Since she was the lead vocalist and guitarist her presence would have been deeply missed. What a huge sense of responsibility this young lady has!

So, yes I'm proud, I'm a really proud momma!

To hear her performance click on the photo below!

I'M BACK .....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 20 May 2014 00:36:00 +0000

My last post was almost a year ago ...... E-gads!

It's funny how much changes in a year.

I'm not even sure where to start so I will do a quick laundry list ....

We opened our home to a German teenage girl in August, 2013 for the complete school year.
Donovan started kindergarten and has learned to read, add, subtract, Spanish ....
Norah made her First Communion.
Norah played her first rock and roll gig, in January, and her second this past weekend.
I started a new job at an old company.
My parents have had some medical setbacks.
We remodeled a bathroom.
I bought a new car.
We had a crazy winter that lasted longer than normal and was snowier and frigid than usual.
I went to Nashville, TN - first visit (for work)
I went to Dallas, TX - first visit (for work)
Celebrated my 10th Wedding Anniversary with Jon in San Francisco and Napa.
Lost my blonde ways to a new more natural brunette.
Renewed my Passport - so the world is now mine to explore - of course for work though.

It's been crazy with some ups and downs - mostly ups though!

But now that I found my log in info - I promise to my dear followers (ok so there really are only 2 that acknowledge that they follow me and you are dear to me but for those of you who follow silently) that I will be more active. Thanks for being patient and not giving up on me.

Colleen

I Use to Worry ….

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 10 Jul 2013 00:17:00 +0000

I entered this world 46+ years ago with the strongest "worry gene" a person could possibly have in their DNA make-up. In fact for so long the "worry gene" ruled my life. I would be a billionaire today had I found a way to capitalize financially on my professional ability to worry.

I have serious worry lines on my forehead to prove it!

Recently I've been hit with some erratic heart palpitations. I'm sure it's my heart finally catching up to the years and years of worry. It's a weird feeling to feel like your heart is about to climb out of your mouth. I can feel it inching it's way up my throat. I was fortunate to have my doctor hear it loud and clear upon examination - after my EKG didn't show much. I actually breathed a sigh of relief that he heard it because the last thing I wanted to have him think that I was this psycho/hypochondriac (see what I mean about this worrying thing!) A month later I agreed to wear a holter heart monitor for 24 hours and it did show that I do have many heart palpitations and every time I clicked the button to register that I felt one - I was indeed having one. They are typically benign - PVCs are what they are referred to. The next step is to see a cardiologist as an extra precaution. I can't get myself to make that appointment - nothing good ever comes from seeing a cardiologist. Maybe I'm tainted because we were told that Donovan's murmur at age 3 months was most likely innocent and I allowed myself to (get this) to not worry about the appointment only to find out that he has pulmonary valvular stenosis and then throw on top of that Noonan Syndrome. I can tell you that was probably the worst day of my life - getting that blind-sided diagnosis from a cardiology visit that was just a precaution. So you can probably see why I'm hesitant to go. I'm of the mind that ignorance is bliss when it comes to my own health.

I hit the pinnacle of worry 2+ years ago when Donovan decided that eating was overrated. Actually he stopped eating because eating made him feel ill. I'll never know how ill but I can imagine he felt pretty crummy to give up cookies and snack foods. Milk was his best friend - the only thing he consumed that apparently didn't make him feel awful. Interesting enough, a child cannot live on milk alone. So when your child tanks and stops eating and you have no idea why or how to fix it and you start resorting to threats and force feeding out of worry and utter frustration - you've hit the rock bottom of worry!

I have a phenomenal husband that heeded the warning signs and got me some help. Nothing is more embarrassing then sitting in your doctor's office and sobbing. Sobbing because your world is collapsing all around you. Fortunately, he has dealt with similar issues in his own family with a special needs child and a wife that fluctuated from highs and lows of dealing with the life a mom of a "special" child. All it took was this 1/2 of a blue pill and I had my life back. I sit here today wondering why I never was offered this blue pill to make me normal before that day.

One of my big worries was that Donovan would not be a happy normal child. I feared and worried that he would be mercilessly teased because he's small, or because he wears glasses, or because his eye is a bit droopy, or that his ears are tilted back a little. I worried that his stuttering will draw kids to laugh at him. I worried that he wouldn't be able to stand up for himself that he would be shy and reserved and continue to latch onto me as his life preserver.

Last night we went to a school related function. Donovan has been going to camp with Norah at Lake Ridge for the last 4 weeks. To see half a dozen kids run up to him and hug him - warmed the core of my heart. To see how all the kids allowed him to be the leader and they followed him around and did whatever he wanted to do - and the kids were of all sorts of ages - 5-10 years old. I spoke with the President of the school, who by the way knows all the kids at the school and makes it a point to know their families - and she told me that he's been the ring-leader most of summer camp. He's managed to capture the older and younger kids attention and they love him like a best buddy.

When you have a child that isn't "perfect by genetic standards" - you worry as a mom about all sorts of things. You mourn what isn't "perfect by genetic standards" but you become lucky enough to embrace the best part of life - to see life in a different pair of eyes. To appreciate the small things, to learn to not sweat the small things. You become a more loving, kinder and more understanding human being.

I use to worry … a lot! Okay, who am I fooling … I still worry a lot! But in a much calmer way! And I'm guessing my heart flutters inside because it's happy! Or at least that's the way I'm going to accept this PVC thing and hope that I'm not being stupid by invoking the "ignorant is bliss" for at least a little while longer!!

Gaining Another Child from Abroad

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 05 Jul 2013 23:51:00 +0000

Jon and I had talked about hosting a foreign exchange student last year. We knew the timing wasn't right and thought that waiting until Norah and Donovan were older would be best. So we tabled the idea.

Lake Ridge Academy often sends out emails to its student families about needing host families for children that would like to spend a semester or school year at Lake Ridge from other countries. We read them and click delete - knowing that the timing isn't just right for us to bring on another person to be responsible for into our home.

A month ago, we received such an email from the school looking for 7 host families. Two things that sort of made me read deeper into the email were:

Every morning when I dropped Norah off at the bus stop - another high school age student from Asia always waved to me as he walked from his host family's car to the bus. I never spoke to him personally but I felt he was really a sincere and friendly human being. This made me think about hosting a foreign student in the simplest form of "thinking about it".
I was desperately seeking a nanny/child sitter for my kids this summer to cover 3-4 weeks when camp was over. All I could think of was how I wish we had an AuPair.

So my mind was in the right state of mind to consider hosting a foreign exchange student when the email arrived in my inbox from Lake Ridge Academy.

I was stuck in traffic on my way home from work. This is unusual because my commute is really easy at 15-20 minutes tops. So I opened this email and read it and read the brief bios of the students and my brain/heart immediately was captured by a young lady from Germany. I read her bio thinking to myself, if I was going to bring on a foreign exchange student, she would be the perfect student.

I was really running late by this time, so I called Jon on the phone to let him know and to see if he could maybe get Donovan from his pre-K/daycare, and I asked him if he had gotten the email about the need for host families for 7 of these foreign students. He said, "Yes, I sent you an email about it!" Given that I was driving, I asked him what his email was about. He said, "There was a student he felt would be a perfect fit for our family, if we were ever considering hosting." I asked him who it was, and it turns out it was the exact same person I was thinking.

We chatted longer and decided that we'd discuss it at the dinner table with Norah and Donovan and see if they would be willing to make some sacrifices to allow this student to stay with us for the school year. They both thought it was cool and realized that it meant they had to give up their play/tv room, that they would probably need to look through toys and offer some to Goodwill or other charity to make room in the house to accommodate another person.

These were all signs that bringing on the young teenager from Germany was the right thing to do. Even though some think we are crazy, we gave this lots of thought and consideration and feel that, we as a family, could gain so much from this experience. We know the road won't always be smooth and that there will be good days and not so good days - but in the end, all the positives out-weighed any negatives that we could think of.

So we made an inquiry and low and behold, we started the process to become a host family.

Yesterday, on the 4th of July, we received our first correspondence from our student. I will leave her name private, but I was so impressed with her email. She sounds so grown-up, a child of almost 15 with a good head on her shoulders, well-spoken and seemingly charming. Just like when I found out I was pregnant with Norah and Donovan, and I couldn't wait to meet them - I feel the same way about our German adoptive-for-a-year daughter. I am eagerly awaiting our first Skype on Sunday morning.

This will be what I am hoping is a fun-filled year with lots of new adventures, and that we all learn from this wonderful opportunity.

We thank her parents for putting their trust in us to make sure their daughter has a wonderful experience. Jon and I will do everything we can to make sure she is safe, cared for, loved and embraced fully as a member of our family while she is under our roof. That we hope to gain as much from this experience as she will by staying with us.

Our adventure begins soon …. (stay tuned)

The Gift of Time

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 12:55:00 +0000

Cancer is an "elephant in any room".

I've posted about my Godmom back in late 2012 having stage 4 brain cancer. I'll begin by saying, after 7+ months post diagnosis she is doing very well, looks great and staying strong in her conviction to be here.

She talks about dying a lot, and it saddens the people who love her and makes them feel uncomfortable. A very normal reaction, I would say on both sides of the table. As hard as it is for all of us to hear the reality of things to come some time down the road, she needs to remind herself and to keep things front and center and for all of us not to lose sight that we all don't have all the time in the world. That time is a gift.

I hate the fact that we live on opposite ends of the State and that I have to plan time to visit. Winter was not kind in my house with viruses, so I certainly didn't want to visit my Godmom who has a compromised immune system given she's on chemo treatment every 3-4 weeks or so.

I Facebook posted to her that I wanted to visit and when would be a good time for me to do that. With working full-time, I only have weekends at my disposal. She was so excited that I wanted to visit but I never got the chance to connect with her and iron out a date. One of her sisters, in her infinite wisdom, contacted her niece (my 2nd cousin) and suggested they invite me to a family graduation party.

The date of the party worked-out and I was able to surprise my Godmom and her sisters with a visit from me and my family. We had so much fun and I'm so glad that we made this road trip work!

I worry that time is finite for my Godmom - I don't want to regret not spending as much time as I can with her to laugh and enjoy her company. Her initial prognosis has been questionable at best - but the doctors are pleased at how well she is doing and haven't given her a timetable (or at least she hasn't shared this info with me). Hoping that God, through all our prayers and the help of medications, can keep her healthy and around for much much longer. And that her quality of life continues to be good.

So I thank God for allowing me the opportunity to spend more time with her and for giving me a lesson on "time" is a gift. And to seize moments while you can.

My Godmom, Me and Jon
(Doesn't she look fantastic?!)

Just Who You and I Are

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 12 May 2013 17:54:00 +0000

For some reason, the other day I was bothered by the fact that the media was segregating a person out by classifying him as a homosexual.

But it wasn't just this classification that bothers me - it's how we as a society classify people in general:

Black or White
Male or Female
Christian or Jew or Hindu or Islamic, Atheist, etc.
Smart or Dumb
Handicapped
Tall or Short
Fat or Skinny

Just to name a few.

A professional athlete came out of the closet. To which my first thought was "who cares". Why do any one of us need to know this person's sexual orientation? Why is this my business? Why is this anyone's business but this person? Why do any one of us need to judge this individual? Why does this person feel like they have to "come out of the closet"?

Which brings me back to a conversation I had with one of brother's recently. He mentioned that homosexuality is not "normal". To which I essentially replied - For those of us who are heterosexual, and don't understand homosexuality because we don't have such "feelings" can't possibly judge a homosexual person and call them "not normal". Who is to say, we heterosexual beings are normal?

And please, don't tell me it's in the Bible. I'm going to go out on a limb and probably upset a few family members and friends by saying this - but the Bible is a book that laymen have written and interpreted throughout the years. Have you ever played the "telephone game"? - If you have, you'll understand how one person can say: "I love you" and by the end of the line of people the phrase gets passed through could very well change to "I'm going to level you". So I take the Bible as an outline and work from that perspective, but to take it literally word for word is ignorant. Because in the end, I know a bunch of regular people wrote all this out and interpreted how they wanted to. And to tell me they were commissioned by God - well how do we really know that? Blind Faith is the typical answer - and I do a lot of blind faithing - but I have my limits.

Anyway, off my soap box about the Bible.

I will be the first to admit that I have been and continue to be guilty of "tagging" people. However, I am truthful when saying that I try very hard as a parent to be less "tagging" of people and more understanding of the people that make up this world.

What has helped to redirect and shape my views on things is having a child that has a genetic disorder. You begin to see certain things from the other side. My son will always be shorter than most males. He had to wear glasses at a very young age (18 months), he has medical quirks, and he stutters. Growing up, I know that any child that was different then the "average child" was made fun of and left to feel bad about themselves. To say kids of my generation were cruel - is an understatement. And even the nicest of households (of which I grew up in) had segregating and discriminating thoughts. It was the era and time in this world. Not an acceptable excuse, but it is the hard fact truth.

I remember when I was in my late twenties and early thirties and I still hadn't met the man of my dreams. I told my parents that they needed to be open-minded. That they needed to accept whomever I chose to be my life long soulmate and partner in life. I didn't know if he would be black or white, Catholic or otherwise, etc. All I knew is that the person that I would spend the rest of my life needed to love and respect me and I him. To me it didn't matter all the other segregating items. Ok, I must admit though, I really wanted him to be educated and smart just because I needed to be around someone that challenged my brain capacity.

I know who I am - people can't and don't change me. So the fact that my husband is Jewish and I am Catholic doesn't impact me in any way. We know who we are as individuals - my husband and I. I respect my husband and his religious beliefs. I embrace his traditions because it helps me understand the person who he is. Likewise, he does the same. By doing so doesn't mean I've given up any part of me and he hasn't given up any part of him. My kids are the ones that benefit because they see so much more of the world through so many different perspectives, yes we are raising them Catholic because I practice my faith more overtly than my husband - but they share in the customs, etc. of the Jewish religion as best we can. I want them to know both sides and when the time comes they can decide their true heart's beliefs.

And when it came down to choosing schools for my children - we wanted to make sure that the environment was such that my kids will be able to see different perspectives on the world we live in. I originally wanted the all Catholic school - but we found a great private school that has small class sizes but is open to every type of demographic. So my kids are interacting with a wide range of kids. My son will be going to a Catholic grade school for kindergarten (5 year old class) as the school we want him to go to wants him to wait a year since he's a boy and will have just turned 5 when school starts in August - so we opted to send him to this school and the really cool thing about the school was that the school accepts kids with different educational needs. They have an excellent program for kids with Autism and they help these kids to mainstream so they can become successful students. Something I want my son to experience - to know there are other kids out there that may have educational struggles and you help each other instead of poking fun at them - which would have been the case had any of these children gone to school during my childhood.

The point of my blog is really that we need to as a society not be so quick to want the gossip of people coming out of closets - but just accept people for who they are and to treat them with respect and love them because they are another human being.

From Diva to Protector

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 17:08:00 +0000

Early on in our relationship I spent a lot of time complaining about my Diva Dog - Loula Mae. She was as cute as a button as a puppy but then she went through this period of time 4 months to 7-8 months where she thought she was the queen of the castle. I often refer to her as Princess FiFi.

A vizsla is a very high energy dog. We did a lot of reading on the breed, fortunately fell into finding a great breeder who took the time to give us the low down on the breed, what to expect and how to train. His advice and guidance has helped us to raise not only a Princess of a dog but a Protector as well.

A vizsla is not for everyone, you need to make sure you have adequate time to spend with your dog, to exercise and train. They have lots of energy and need to unleash this energy, but they are also extremely intelligent dogs that need to continually have brain stimulation. You need to have patience, which by the way, is not my strongest character trait. Probably ranks on the lower 1/3 of my personal character traits. Which is why it has been a godsend to have the breeder as a FB friend, so he can give me a pointer or two when he senses my frustration. Early on I was wondering if we had made a mistake because she was so active, and I was worried that once I started back at work full time she'd go stir crazy; however, we found a great outlet in a local doggie day care center. She plays hard all day so by the time we get to see her she's exhausted and well behaved.

We are also very lucky that we have wonderful neighbors that live behind us. Their dog and Loula are best friends. They play well together and the friendship between them is precious. Nothing is cuter than seeing Loula look out the back window and her friend Lilly looking out her back window and you can tell they can see each other, especially when Loula runs to the door asking to go out. We have a gate between our yards because our kids are good friends, and this allows them to easily come play in each other's backyard. And both sets of parents can keep an eye on all the kids too. We let the dogs play and they play hard but respectfully. It has been so nice to see this friendship develop between these two dogs.

I've had a couple of dogs in my life. A Brittany Spaniel that captured the heart of my father to the point that he would never get another dog after her because the heartache of putting her down was too much for him. She was 10 years old and a myriad of issues that would have cost an arm and a leg to figure out and if correctable too costly to fix. We agonized over this decision, my parents and I - but after speaking to a doctor during one of my annual exams; he recommended that putting her down was in the best interest of the dog from his medical perspective. Her quality of life was on the decline and suggested we let her go before she had to suffer. I respect that doctor to this very day because not many doctors take the time to speak to their patients to get to know what is going on in their heart and head before examining them. His medical insight made this decision a little easier, but not less painful for sure.

I had to watch my husband, who was my fiance at the time, put down his beagle. A dog that was so sweet, sincere and full of so much love that even though he could be a little pain in the arse, his lovability trumped everything. He was the sickest dog I had ever seen. My husband tried so many different treatments to make him better, but in the end he was too sick to cure. I suggested that he buy his best furry friend a nice juicy steak dinner and let him enjoy his first and only table scrap and I'd take a day off of work to go with him to put his beagle out of his suffering. It was the hardest thing to witness but it was, for this situation, the right thing to do. For weeks the little guy wouldn't eat food and my hubby called me the night before we laid him to rest and told me he feasted for sure on the steak dinner.

If you've read my blog from the beginning, you probably already read about Zoey. Zoey was the answer to my first miscarriage. She replaced physical properties of the baby that I lost. So she was very much a special dog to me. She was my best friend and I can go on and on about her and the type of dog she was. She lived a short 5 years and 362 days. She was a black lab that had the biggest heart of any dog I had known. She got me through thick and thin and took my frustration on life like a true friend, she was my rock.

So, I came into this Loula Mae relationship with some reservation. I thought I was over the "mourning" period with the loss of Zoey but I wasn't. Zoey was a much different dog then Loula. Zoey was a gentle, calm giant. Loula is a needy, fiery redhead! Opposite ends of the spectrum.

Over the last two months, I've seen a change in Loula Mae. She is maturing from the Diva to a Protector. She's not so self-absorbed anymore. She's become a very keen watch dog, making sure her people are safe. Although I hope never to see it put to use, I'm confident that if someone was attempting to harm any one of us, she'd come to our aid instantly and fight for our safety.

She loves each and every one of us. She shares snuggle time with all of us as equally as possible. She loves the kids, and to watch that relationship bloom is incredible. When the kids give her attention, she smiles and wags her tail with so much enthusiasm.

She has truly become one of us! I've been able to open my heart again - she has proven without any doubt that she is an outstanding dog.

Viszlas are not for everyone - you have to want to spend time with the dog, getting to know what makes the dog "tick", you need to make time to help the dog unleash its energy, and at the end of the day - you need to open up at least your couch to let the dog snuggle up close to you!

The Value of a Hug

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 00:52:00 +0000

Just shy of a month ago I started feeling a little weird, under the weather but thought maybe it was because I was painting and the paint fumes were irritating my lungs.

The coughing go worse while at work the next day. So I realized that I might actually be catching the flu and as the day progressed I could feel my body temperature rise like a thermometer and the dull aching muscles and joints that come along with a fever. By the time I got home my temperature was up close to 102F.

Fortunately, my family left me for a long weekend to go visit family. I was very busy at work and since I only get so much vacation time and I already have 1 week of my 2 weeks secured, I try to hold tight to my days off so I can do things with the kids this summer. So the only beings I had to worry about for a couple of days were my dog and myself.

Tuesday the fever went up in the morning I called the doctors and got an appointment for that morning. I called into work and explained that I thought I might have the flu and would prefer working from home so as to not contaminate the office any more than I did the day before. My fever was non-existant when I got to the doctors so he figured I had bronchitis, prescribed me a Z-Pack and some Hydrocodone cough medicine and told me I didn't have the flu. My family came home and I told them I had a fever and that they needed to stay away because I'm assuming its viral and the last thing I wanted to do is get my son sick with a bad cough. That certainly would have caused an extreme asthma issue. The fever came and went all day long on Tuesday. I decided since it was bronchitis that I'd go into work on Wednesday. Bad idea! I made it until 4:45pm and I just fizzled. The fever was back in full force and I just felt like I had been sacked by a defensive lineman. My ribs hurt to the core!

Thursday rolls around, and I'm still sick with this relentless fever, cough and aches so I again worked from home. Friday morning I woke up and I felt even worse - fever hanging on tight. Worked from home again.

I had quarantined myself in my bedroom with no physical contact with my kids. The fever finally broke the following Monday during the middle of the night so I was able to go to work Monday - but I still wasn't able to hug my kids because I wanted to be fever free for 24 hours. Everything I read about the flu virus was that you were contagious up until you were fever free for 24 hours.

My family left me for 4 days, I then was sick for 4 more days with a fever - by day 6 I was itching for a good hug from the kids so I but on a scarf and washed my hands really well and hugged each child with all my might.

That was shortly after Jon came home with the kids after being out with friends and he told me Donovan crawled into the lap of the "mom" friend of ours and asked for a hug. I cried, I actually sobbed in the shower because I wanted that hug and I felt horrible how my child wanted to hug me but I wasn't letting him. Trying to explain to a 4 1/2 year old that Mom isn't hugging him because she doesn't want him to get sick was hard. He didn't truly understand. It was for his own good.

Sometimes when you think you are doing the right thing, you're not. In this case my germaphobia-ness got the better of me and I should have just soaked myself in purell and put on a scarf the day they arrived home from their trip and give them the much needed hug we all needed.

Lesson learned - there is a large amount of "value" in a hug.

When You are too Naive

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 16:56:00 +0000

As a parent we carefully monitor (or should carefully be monitoring) what are kids are doing, where they are going, what they are watching, what internet sites they are on, what friends they are making.

I found out earlier this week that I should have been heeding such advice I give my children.

For years I followed an internet site "Mom's Board" - I use to be a "lurker" on the site for several years as I was looking for reasons why I miscarried my first baby and then seeking answers to fertility questions. Doctors know so much but a woman going through the process knows infinitely more. So this particular site was an excellent source of knowledge and much of what I learned I was able to bring to the table when speaking with my doctor.

I finally stopped lurking and participated when I found out I was surprisingly pregnant with my son. I had miscarried a child between my daughter and son and I was a nervous wreck. So participating on the board helped ease my worries and to be part of a network of woman who truly understood my worries.

We eventually moved our conversations from trying to have babies to raising our children, dealing with medical and developmental issues. We often debated topics such as vaccinations, religion, politics. We shared stories about our families, friends, neighbors. We looked for advice from each other. We essentially became good friends. My internet mom friends know more about me than much of my in real life friends. When I hit a low point in my life, they were there to lift up the broken parts of me. When my son was in the hospital they sent him gifts, they sent us meals, they offered so much support and prayers that I was overwhelmed with their kindness. And none of these ladies ever met me in person. Yet they treated me like a life long friend.

I have met one of my Mommy board friends and she is a sweet person. I'd like to meet the others and someday we will. When the timing is right for all of us.

One of the mom's on the board fell off the board. She stopped posting and we were quite worried about her. She has several young children. She was part of our sisterhood and since no one was friends with her outside the board (didn't have email address or were FB friends) we were all getting more worried as the days and weeks went by that she hadn't posted.

Without going into details a person managed to get her "real name" as most of us have pseudo-names to protect our identities as the Mommy board is a public forum. As the person was searching to see if they could contact her on FB as we knew she had an account, her name comes up in google and it's not all pretty.

We come to realize that she is part of very strong "hate group". Many of us fall under the prejudice of her hatred. We had no clue. It turned my stomach to think we all shared so much information about ourselves and yet not once did she share that she had such deep rooted hatred towards certain groups of people. There has been this total feeling of violation by many of us.

The disappointing part of all of this is that all of us (excluding this individual) joined this community of mom's with the intent of helping each other out. Sharing what we know, being shoulders to cry on, steps to support each other and this one person collapsed this board. This board has essentially been disbanded. Many of us are friends on FB so we can keep up with each other that way - but it was unnerving and disappointing to learn that a person could be so hateful and yet you have no idea.

We all have learned a valuable lesson this week.

After reading all about this person and her posse of believers - I learned how truly evil and hateful people can be. And its truly very scary to think there are people out there. It also makes me really sad.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 23 Feb 2013 13:11:00 +0000

I love this question. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

It allows you to dream, plan and execute.

The other night, Donovan and I were snuggling up in his toddler bed talking. He was telling me all about the dentist that came to his pre-K class at his school. (I think it was two dental hygienist that actually came to his school after looking at the pictures.) He told me how important it was to brush his teeth at least twice a day and he had to floss. He was very indignant about this flossing "because you don't want to have plaque Mom, it puts holes in your teeth!" I was truly amazed and amused that my 4.5 year old retained all of this information and could regurgitate it so clearly and so enthusiastically. So I asked him "do you want to be a dentist when you grow up"? He said, "I don't know what does a dentist really do Mom?" So I explained that the dentist looks at your teeth and puts his fingers in your mouth to check the teeth - he was not a fan. He then turns to me and says Mom, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Not sure how to take that question - I guess I could take it that he thinks I'm young. Or then again he could just think I'm immature for my age.

My response was "I am grown-up" - I'm a mom and I work as a product manager, and I work with products that help people - so I'm happy. Donovan then says to me "I want to do what you do mom"! Of course that warmed my heart!

Anyway, I come to find out my son really wants to be a "space ranger" like Buzz Lightyear. Unfortunately given his medical quirks, him being an astronaut is pretty much an impossibility. My silver lining to his heart issue is he can never be enlisted in the military. Which is only fair for me as a mom, I have enough to worry about with him that it's only fair I don't have to worry about him going off to war someday. I'm sad though, because this little "dream" of his sort of ends before it gets started.

One thing as parents, teachers and anyone who works with children, we always want to inspire our little people (and teenagers too) to be the best they can be with the talents and dreams they have. Never never never squelch what might even be a pipe dream. Never never never tell a child they can't do something.

When I was a child, I always wanted to be a veterinarian. When I was in 5th grade I had a teacher ask my best friend and me what we wanted to be when we grew up. I was so excited to share my dream of being a veterinarian so I spoke up first. She told me "Oh Colleen, becoming a veterinarian takes lots of schooling and it's not easy study - I think it might be too hard for you". Meanwhile she says to my friend, "Jill, you are so smart you can be whatever you want!" I am not making this up, it happened and it killed my dream of being a veterinarian right there. She pulled the self-esteem/self-confidence rug right from under my feet and I fell hard to the ground.

I have ADD or ADHD when it comes to careers. I started out in college wanting to be a superintendent of a construction site building buildings - grand buildings. So I went to college and started out in Engineering - undecided either civil or mechanical. My Dad's career as a salesman/self made Engineer inspired me.

I found out while taking engineering related classes that I just was struggling. No matter how hard I tried, Calculus was not clicking. There went the dream of being an engineer, so I switched to Business and decided to concentrate in Human Resource Management. I really wanted to be a mediator for labor disputes which would require a law degree. I made it through and got my bachelors degree. Only to look at the LSAT and say forget it. Not a fan of standardized tests.

I started working in a Benefits department and that was so boring and not me. I eventually switched to Marketing and loved it. But I still wanted to finish the engineering degree I started because I don't like to quit something. So I took classes and got to a point where I did some deep soul searching. I really wanted to be a biomedical engineer - I had this pull towards medicine and I just knew this was what I wanted to do. After chatting with a very wonderful and successful entrepreneur, he mentored me by sharing with me what I needed to do to become a Product Manager for a Medical Device company. He laid out what I needed to do to get me where I wanted to be. He was the first person (outside my parents) to give confidence by helping me strategize my experience, education and career path. This man will never know how grateful I am that he took an hour out of his very busy day on Saturday afternoon to help me (someone he didn't even know before meeting with me that day) to get me to where I am today!

My daughter started out wanting to be a veterinarian, which I encourage but also explain that it's a lot of hard work, and the payback sometimes isn't what you expect but if that is what you want to be then I am all for it. I have a nephew-in-law that is living his dream as a veterinarian and it hasn't necessarily been an easy go of it. Not because of the educational part but just the whole getting the experience you need to become successful in the field and to payback all those student loans. She wavers back and forth about being a vet and then wanting to be a singer/dancer. Of which I seriously cringe (since we are paying big bucks to send her to a private college prep school) and try to say that she can do both. That maybe the singing/dancing part could be more of a hobby.

I will never squelch a dream of my children, however, I will be straight about what to expect. That some dreams come with lots of hard work, sacrifices and ups and downs. But in the end they can be whatever their hearts desire when they grow-up!

Donovan said to me in his sweet little way "I can't wait to grow-up so I can be a Dad." I asked him why? Because it meant he could go to work! I love how that little boy thinks. He makes me smile 99% of the time.

Got Me a Rebel Rouser on my hands ….

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 23:45:00 +0000

I know what you are thinking - my isn't she a beauty! What a sweet little puppy! What an angel face!

Well, let me tell you - the devil comes in many forms!

And this here dog - she's one form of the devil!

She can "whew you over" with her seemingly gentle cuddly spirit and then when you least expect it she'll

chew on a windowsill
pee on the floor
sneak upstairs and steal a toy from the kid's room
steal a pencil from the study room

…. just to name a few!

And when we are the perfect owners, letting our beloved dog go to doggy daycare every weekday and often times on weekends when we know she might be stuck in a crate … we just love walking into the daycare and getting the ole'

Guess What Your Dog Did Today?

And you find you have to hang your head low and squint your eyes in shame and think, oh crud what did she do this time?

Well, today was one of those days ….

She quickly has figured out how to open the doors in the facility. We've known this for several weeks. Today, my "little princess Fee Fee" decided to lead her "people" (fellow doggie friends) out the door by opening the door and a mass of dogs tore out the door and into the doggy play ground.

Oh Dear God … why did you have to let the devil invade my dog's body?

Raising Me a Good Soul!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 18:12:00 +0000

I like to think that I'm a good person. I'm not perfect, I have a temper, I get frustrated easily and I have a potty mouth like a drunken sailor when I'm really angry, annoyed and frustrated. All things that I'm not proud of but if these are my vices I'm not too bad of a person!

Where I am a good person - I always think of how my actions will affect another human being. I 90% of the time take the high road. Both my cheeks have been smacked equally as I do "turn the other cheek" more often then not.

I try to do nice little things for other people just to make their lives easier and happier. Even if it is as simple as taking on another task at work just to help offset another's very busy schedule even though my schedule is just as crazy and busy if not more.

I am, however, guilty of hoping things do get paid back when I need the help the most. Some people have exceeded this expectation and some have come up empty. But I don't hold it against anyone, because I shouldn't expect a repayment anyway. But lets be honest, it would be nice sometimes - right??

So this brings me to "raising me a good soul". I want my kids to be kind, generous, helpful, loving human beings. I want them to be able to "turn the other cheek" even when it's so hard too. But I also want them to understand the "fine line of being totally taken advantage of and being just good hearted human beings"- that's a life long lesson to learn. Not sure I totally have learned it myself!

So the other day out of the blue my Norah says to me "Mom, I want to donate my hair to Locks of Love". My heart beamed. I explained how it works and when all said and done I asked her if she still wanted to do that and she did with some great enthusiasm. I asked her how she heard of it? Was someone doing this at school? She said no, and explained that I had talked about it a long time ago and she thought it would be nice to do. So we went yesterday to the salon to have her hair trimmed in preparation of this journey of growing her hair to pass on to a child who will need a wig someday. If her hair continues to grow at the pace it is, my cousin, her stylist believes her hair will be ready for donation by Christmas time this year. What a wonderful Christmas present to give to another child who is walking through life with struggles that could be made just a little bit lighter. She's already made significant strides at growing her hair, and only needs 3-4 inches but will need another trim late summer.

This is huge, because Norah's hair was always her signature feature, as a baby and toddler and even now.

Norah has beautiful hair and this gift she wants to give is so wonderful. So meaningful and truly defines what a good person she is inside and out.

I am so proud of my daughter and had I not chopped all my hair off 2 years ago, I'd would love to have walked this journey with her. Although, I'm not sure color processed hair or gray hair would be ideal hair to donate!

Norah truly is a one of a kind kid! She's kind, sweet, caring, giving and loving. She's a type of girl that I would want to have as my best friend. Twenty years from now I hope to call her my best friend after I've successfully raised her to be an adult. If today is any indication of her future, she's already successful!

Growing Up So Quickly and So Successfully

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 27 Jan 2013 18:04:00 +0000

4 1/2 years ago we found out Donovan had a genetic disorder called Noonan Syndrome. I remember Googling the syndrome and sitting at the computer sobbing. Heart wrenching sobs. Thinking twice about God and wondered why He did this to my son and to me. I had the "woe is me" mentality.

I think I was just really scared of the "what ifs". Scared that I didn't have the mental capacity to handle all that might be thrown our way. God didn't grant me the gift of patience and that scared me the most.

I did a lot of reading up on the disorder and found blogs of other parent's that had children with this disorder just to get an idea about the "day in the life" of a parent dealing with a child with Noonan Syndrome.

I remember searching for as much "help" with developmental expertise as I could get. I was fortunate to have had at my door step a wonderful home special needs development care in the way of Help Me Grow. Donovan and I had the pleasure of meeting two nice ladies at least once a month to help make sure he was meeting his milestone. They not only helped him, but they helped me. They gave me confidence that I could be the mom who could enable her child to overcome any obstacles and be a successful person in life. I remember crying that first day when the coordinator sat at my kitchen table having me fill out paperwork. No parent ever wants to be "that parent" that has a child with special needs. We may not say it out loud but we all say it to ourselves.

We were lucky to find things out early because we were able to be proactive. Donovan met his milestone pretty much on time. He does have a few minor struggles - fine motor skills could be a little better - but in looking at kids his age, they all seem to be at the same place so I rest assured he's fine. Either that or there is a lot of children that need some help! Although proactive and being able to find things out when he was really early, it also had its negative side. The not knowing what to expect. Not knowing what was lurking around the corner. It kept me up at night. I cried in the shower almost ever morning - that way no one knew I was crying.

Spring forward to today …. my little guy is doing fabulously. He loves going to school everyday. His handwriting is getting better everyday, and he's sharp as a tack!

This past Thursday, he went to kindergarten screening at Lake Ridge Academy. They by far do the best screening of any school we've looked at when Donovan's older sister Norah was looking for a school for kindergarten. It was close to 3 hours of screening with 5 or so different stations, and playtime and book reading, etc. He was secretly screened by the school psychologist, kindergarten teachers, first grade teachers, and various other academic personnel. It must have been a lot of fun because the child did not want to leave the school when all was done.

Many of the teachers and staff know Donovan because he and I were fixtures daily in the morning when dropping Norah off at school and in the afternoon when picking her up. Even the President of the School knows him by name and when she saw him on Thursday gave him a wonderful warm greeting! We won't know the results of the screening until the end of February after all the kids have been screened. There are only 32 spots - two classrooms of 16 students each. So our fingers are crossed that he did well. However, we also stressed to the teachers early on that we hold their opinion in high regard. If they don't think he's ready for kindergarten starting the Fall of 2013 - then please let us know and we will hold him back, but if you think he is ready we are on board. The two kindergarten teachers told me late last Spring that they felt he would be ready - so I'm interested in seeing if what they said almost 9 months ago is true. I know I'll have a little boy who will be quite disappointed if he has to wait a year.

As I was talking to my parents about his wonderful experience on Thursdays, tears rolled down my face. I am so proud of my little guy. To think 4 1/2 years ago I was feeling like my child was destined for struggles and here he is months out from kindergarten at a very high achieving academically and socially speaking private college prep school. I never in my wildest dreams would even think we'd be this far.

So for those of you who wonder if God answers prayers. He does! He might take His own sweet time, and He can because He is God you Know!

Thanks God for making my world extra special with Donovan in it! (And it goes without saying Norah too!)

It's the Simple Things that Mean the Most ...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 19:14:00 +0000

Less than 90 days ago I started my career all over again after taking a break to raise my kiddos for 6 years. I missed my working days but didn't want to miss those special milestones and being able to shape my children to be good human beings.

I didn't realize how much I missed working until I went back to work. I love getting up and going to work and coming home feeling I made a difference and stretched my brain to limits they haven't been stretched to in a long time. I love the hugs and kisses when I drop the kids off at their respective spots in the morning. I love 5-10 minutes in the morning while sitting in the car waiting for Norah's bus and we play 20 Disney Questions or I-Spy or just chat. I love the special kiss I get on my hand from Donovan before I leave his school in the morning. I love that he wants a kiss on his hand and rubs the kiss all over his cheek! I love the bear hug we give each other. Its all I need to motivate my day! I love that we pass Norah's bus in the morning most days as we drive to Donovan's school and we wave madly and blow kisses like crazy and we all have goofy smiles on our faces!

I love the squeal of joy when Donovan sees me when I arrive at the school to pick him up!

One thing I love though is that I have a job.

This week I was starting to fall out of the "honeymoon" phase - typical office/co-worker frustrations that we all face. No place is exempt I've come to realize - had a little amnesia I suppose! I didn't really say anything to anyone being the new-bee I certainly didn't want to come across as unhappy or ungrateful.

On the day where I think my frustration hit its peak - my boss (Pres/CEO) says to me "I meant to tell you this earlier … I wanted to let you know that you are doing a great job and I've had a lot of people tell me how good you are doing. He then says to me "the best part is all the compliments were unsolicited". That was all I need to hear - some "kudos". I felt appreciated and I felt like I belonged!

Yesterday we had our work holiday party. With that apparently "gifts" from the company are bestowed upon employees. This year it came in the form of a monetary bonus. Something I hadn't anticipated getting given I'm a very new employee with less than 3 full months under my belt. My boss apologized for the "small" bonus (it was small) and he seemed a bit embarrassed by it. I looked at him and said, I'm just grateful I was even considered in the bonus pool to begin with. What I wanted to say to him and should have said was "the compliments he gave me two days earlier that I was doing a great job and my co-workers were happy I was part of the family - was really all I needed to hear.

Every Girl Needs a Glam Day

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 01 Dec 2012 15:42:00 +0000

A couple of weeks ago Jon and I went to a Benefit for our daughter's school. It's a black tie optional affair.

90% of the female population love to play dress-up for an evening. I hadn't done that in a while. Fortunately I have had 3 nieces get married 3 summers in a row (minus this past summer) and was able to dress-up in pretty dresses - but I have yet to go to an adult black tie affair (excluding my wedding and senior prom). So I was pretty darn exited about this evening out.

More special was how excited Jon was about purchasing a Tux (he got a smokin' deal at 70% off) and wanting to wear it. I think he was a smidgen more excited about the black tie affair than I was - just because he could wear a Tux. I must admit he looked smokin' hot in his Tux!

A couple of weeks before the event I went searching for a dress online. Since shopping time is hard to come by I wanted to narrow my focus. I found this gorgeous, flirty, fun dress online that I totally fell in love with it was an Oscar de la Renta dress and it was so over my budget at over $4000 that I had to reign in my expectations. I didn't even pay that much for my wedding dress - and that is my cut off. No dress that I purchase after August 29, 2003 can be more expensive then my wedding dress because that is just not right. The wedding dress should always be my spotlight dress! So, I had to temper my expectations but lets face it, I'm going to a Benefit where other parents from my daughter's very exclusive Westside Private School and the other parents at the event have bucket loads more money than we do, so I wanted to at least sort of fit in. I'm not the type of person that has to keep up with the Jones but I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb either. I'm pretty thrifty so I can make a $1 look like a $1000 more often than not!

So I had this dress in mind - you know Oscar's dress. The dress had my name written on it. It was my style and defined the person I am - minus the price tag. Jon suggested we take a trip to Beachwood to try out the more exclusive department stores. We walked into Nordstroms evening dress department and I found IT. I found my dress within a matter of minutes but was so bummed that the size of the dress was 4 sizes bigger than I am. It reminded me of the Oscar dress and was a mere fraction of the cost. So I decided to try it on to see if I liked how it looked and then I would see if they could find the dress at another Nordstrom in my size. Sure as you know it, I put the dress on and it fit and it looked awesome on and I wanted it. And so I bought it! It needed some minor alternations in the bust but other than that it was perfect! I felt glamorous even without the proper shoes, make-up, and hair-style. The dress did resemble the "Oscar" dress in color and similarly styled. It is gorgeous, flirty and fun. The best part is that when I walked across the isle I found my shoes. They weren't crazy wild, just simple and they were just like the shoes the runway model who was wearing the "Oscar" dress. You have to understand, for me to find a pair of shoes to fit is huge, but to find a pair that fits and is exactly what I was looking for is worth a million!

I was all set for the party!

I have a great friend who has offered several times to watch my kids overnight so Jon and I can get away. Given that we had this open offer, I checked with her and she was available so Jon and I decided to make a night of it! We booked a hotel room at the Hyatt downtown and felt like "vacationers" for an evening.

Thursday night before the event I treated myself to a manicure - let me tell you if you have never tried Shellac Nails, it is the way to go. My nails still look good from a manicure/Shellac done over 2 weeks ago!

I have never had my make-up professionally done. Was always afraid I'd walk away looking like I was ready to work the streets. I'm not a big make-up person. I like the eyeliner, some shadow and concealer for the areas needing correction and some bold lipstick and I'm done. I never wear base, rarely wear blush and mascara.

I decided to go out of my comfort zone and I booked an appointment at the Mac counter at Dillards and had my make-up professionally done. My make-up artist did things with eye-make-up that brought out the best in my eyes (I must add my eyes have always been my best feature). She realized I liked a little bold but simply done and tastefully done. I jumped completely out of my comfort zone and did something I would never have thought to do. I wore fake eye-lashes. Oh My Goodness - I loved them. They added that extra "pop" that my eyes needed and I felt like a Model/Movie Star! I am pretty humble person but I have to admit the make-up artist transformed me a 45 year old mom into a 35 year old princess!

We walked into the benefit and I had so many compliments - we (Jon and I) had so many compliments. We were even sought out by the local Westside residential newspaper to have our photo taken. No one ever seeks me out to have a picture taken! It was fun to feel special for an evening. It was fun to be complimented. It was fun to hang on the arm of my handsome prince!

I recommend that every girl (and couple) have one special night every several years where you "glam it up" just because. I think I might make Jon and I do that on our up and coming 10 year anniversary - August 29, 2013. I think we'll sport our fun clothing and glam it up and go out on the town and paint it every color of the rainbow.

Politics Take 4?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 17 Nov 2012 13:27:00 +0000

Ok, the dust has settle from the recent Presidential Election.

I've kept my mouth shut for the most part.

I'm going to come out of the closet and say …. "Yes, I voted for Obama"!

Some of you it might come as a surprise but I've given my right to vote a very long hard thought. I didn't jump on a bandwagon of sorts, I sifted through what was important to me and determined what candidate had the same value system as I did. Knowing that either side of the ticket wasn't going to meet my values 100% percent or be "perfect"- I had to pick out what values I thought was important for the here and now.

I look at where we were 4 years ago and realize that today my family and I are better off in so many ways.

I had a company approach me about a job. I had to wait a long time for the job, but in the end the job became mine and I started when it was most convenient for me.
My son has a lot of medical issues that are now considered "pre-existing" conditions - Obama's plan realizes how segregating people with pre-existing conditions can be detrimental to proper healthcare, let alone "good" healthcare. We can't afford to have a clause that increases premiums or negates my son's ability to get medical care for things like his "heart", "bleeding disorder" just to name two.
We can afford to send our kids to a private school.
We have been able to take vacations.
My husband recently purchased a new car, a Ford Flex. A car that exceeded all my expectations on a vehicle and "It's an American Made Car". Something my husband has never purchased in his life. Had there not been a bail out of the auto industry, who knows this vehicle might not be sitting in my garage at the moment.

I don't take my right to vote lightly. There have been years where I have not voted because I didn't think I was educated enough on the candidates so I felt I shouldn't vote because an uninformed voter makes mistakes!

I am not married to any political party. I don't' agree with all the things on either side so I am more of an "independent". I vote for the person I feel is most aligned to my thinking. In this case I could relate to President Obama and he won my vote.

The week leading up to the election and the days post election I got to see sides of people that frankly made me cringe. Comments made on Facebook that made me wonder if I lived among a bunch of bigots. I'm not without bigotry thoughts myself, (and just so I'm clear - bigotry doesn't refer to black and white races - it means intolerance to those who have different beliefs) anyone who says they don't harbor any are lying. But at least, I keep my comments to myself or share them with my husband if they are truly off color.

Yes, our houses are less valuable then they were the day we purchased them. And yes it "sucks" big time. I'd love to move from where I live. I won't take a hit on my house so here we stay and we suck it up. Fortunately, we live in a nice home so the "sucking it up" isn't so bad. And my parent's live down the street so I have someone to watch my children after school until I get home from work. I just wished we had not purchased a home in a subdivision.

Today, it's a sunny cool day. The sky has yet to fall since the election results. The stock market is still stable. Life is good!

Life's Tough Decisions

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 10 Nov 2012 15:19:00 +0000

I'm a pretty deep individual. I'm methodical and find that I have to try to fix things.

This type of personality trait turned out to be detrimental to my health. It forced me to have to think about how I needed to process things in life in a less anxious and stressful manner. It has required me to take the lowest dosage of anti-anxiety medication. I can tell you without this medicine I think my husband would have had me locked up in a padded white room at the nearest mental institution. Actually, in all honesty I would have actually enjoyed that quiet time back then (and as long as they weren't doing electric shock on me (LOL)).

I've realized that I can't always fix things that are broken. However, I can do as much as possible to make things run smoother, or make someone feel better, more loved, more appreciated. It might not fix things or make bad things go away, but they are nice things to do - just because!

Over 20 years ago I lost my first friend to death. She was 25 years old and suffered since birth from a congenital heart defect. One that resulted in many surgeries to replace a poorly working heart valve, and to insert a pacemaker to name a few. Despite all her medical complications she lived life to the fullest. She inspired me to go back to school and get my Masters of Engineering Management with a concentration in Biomedical Engineering. I wanted to learn how to maybe fix the broken things in people. I didn't have the confidence to go to medical school, so this was the next best thing for me.

She also taught me to learn not to sweat the small stuff in life and to be grateful for my health, family, friends and successes. She taught me to be silly! When I think of her I always smile.

I lost my second special friend 11+ years ago. She was what I called my work mom. I met her at my first job out of college. She was the kindest most caring and thoughtful person. I learned a lot about compassion and friendship through her. She fought a tough battle against breast cancer for 5 years and lost. She had an overwhelming desire to want to make it to the year 2000. She tried every treatment known to medical science to attempt to beat the odds. She pioneered as a patient and allowed doctors to learn so much about the disease. She allowed science/medicine to test theories and treatments, all the while her body was torn down by chemo and various other treatments that she lost the battle not just because cancer riddled her body but because the chemo sucked any bit of strength and immunity to illness she had. It weakened her heart causing her to have congestive heart failure - which is what she ultimately died from. I saw her a couple of days before she died and it broke my heart to see this very vibrant person melt into a very feeble individual. Even on that day she tried so hard to be the good "host" as I was visiting her at her house.

I watched a very special Aunt of mine go from the gregarious loving woman to a person who couldn't speak 12 hours before she passed away. Another person who was a victim of cancer.

Less than a month ago, I found out my very special cousin and Godmom was diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer. As much of the tumor as possible was removed but given the type and how large the tumor was, it had already done some damage and grown like a nasty tree root in her head. So the next step is to incur high powered radiation and chemo to try and eradicate what is left. Statistics are not promising and after three weeks of treatment she's feeling the ill effects. In one weeks time she went from being vibrant and happy to feeling ill and unhappy.

I want to fix this so badly for her. I want to wave a magic wand and make it go away. I want her to be happy again. I can't fix it! This is the first time I've realized that I can't fix something. I've accepted that but continue to pray for a miracle because they do happen.

As bystanders, we don't know the true pain and suffering a person goes through both physically and mentally when they are told they have cancer and have to endure surgery, and some tough drug and radiation treatments. To me, the treatment end of the diagnosis of cancer would be much harder to handle than actually being told I have cancer.

No one prepares a person for such news. There is no written rule on how a person should proceed when faced with the diagnosis. I always thought that I would fight a good fight if I was ever diagnosed with cancer. That I would try every treatment available to give me that extra time. I wanted my friends and family to think the same way if they were diagnosed with cancer. To fight a good fight. I use to get frustrated and disappointed when my Mom would say that she would never do any sort of treatment if she had cancer. Her probability of having cancer is high given all her sibling have died from one form or another. Having that knowledge made things even that more frustrating for me. Then I watched special people suffer from the ill effects of cancer treatments and how the treatments gave them some extra time, but the quality of life - well there was no quality of life.

When a person is faced with the odds of maybe an added 12 months from doing cancer treatments over having just a few more months but probably a better quality of life up until right before the end, you question whether its worth it. But then, you don't want to disappoint the people you will eventually leave behind by leaving prematurely. But then again, when leaving this world its always premature, isn't it! To me this decision to fight a good fight against the illness plaguing your body or to forgo and live the best life you can with truncated time you have left would be agonizing. It's something we truly don't think about until we are faced head-on with making such a decision. But maybe it is something we should all talk about now when we are presumably healthy so that we don't have to struggle later on with making tough decisions and worrying about whether we are doing the right thing and pleasing others. This way everyone knows the "ground rules" and the person faced with the decision can enjoy what time they have left in life rather than spending the time worrying about who's feelings they are hurting.

One thing I think we can all agree on though is cancer sucks!