Category Archives: family life

>Care Packages just aren’t the same

Posted on by
7

>When La Petite was a freshman, I bought the commercial Welcome Pack and various holiday gift packages. I’m sure I supported someone’s fundraising, and my daughter enjoyed getting treats now and then.
Her sophomore year, I did the same.
Now she doesn’t live in a dorm, but in a near-campus apartment, so I skipped it. She says she’s okay with that, so why do I feel a small bit of motherly guilt?

I haven’t made the old-fashioned cookie packages like the ones my mom sent me.
I haven’t packaged up a batch of goodies when MidTerms rolled around.
But I haven’t failed. Oh, I may be different, but I haven’t failed her completely.

For one, I send her links. Where my mother would mail little items (including comics!) that she’d clipped from the paper, I send my daughter URLs for relevant articles and blog posts, even shopping deals. We could chalk that up to the change in technology. We email, chat by IM, and text message each other, too.
I set things aside for her. I put her Girl Scout cookies in her bedroom so we wouldn’t be tempted to eat them in a PMS inspired fit. Did I say we? I meant me. I mean I. I mean…did I say something about chocolate?!
When we found out she and her roomie had lost the remote control for their TV, we found an unused universal remote and mailed it down to her, along with batteries. I suggested chocolate, but Husband “forgot” to throw the candy in the package at the last minute.
The last time we visited, we brought a bag of groceries that included bunny food, Mountain Dew, batteries for the remote control (see above) and a big box of trash bags. And a chair! We brought her a chair! Don’t laugh — it was taking up space in the garage, and Husband wasn’t ready to give it up for good just yet.
Last, but not least, I send her free samples. Yes, free samples. Whenever I see an opportunity to get a freebie, I send one to her, too. When she gets a package of something random like a granola bar or the new flavor of Chex Mix, she knows it’s from me. I even hooked her up with a free test sample of a new dishwashing liquid, and now she’s set for dishes for the remainder of the semester, if not the year.
No, these aren’t romantic or fancy. They’re silly little surprises that turn up in her mailbox at unexpected times. They make her smile and let her know I’m thinking about her now and then. In her own sarcastic way, she’d say, “I feel special”– but I know that sometimes, just sometimes, she really does.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Am I green? A pale shade of mint, perhaps?

Posted on by
4

>I blow it sometimes.
I have cloth bags for shopping, but I forget them too often. We buy bottled water. Yes, we do. We even use paper napkins, not cloth. We don’t bring our own bags to the grocery store or bring back the paper bags, either.
But on the other hand…
I have a re-usable shopping bag in my purse, and it works very well when I remember to use it.
I shred, and we use the shred to fill packages instead of styro packing peanuts. I recycle the water bottles! I do! We also reuse and recycle the paper bags. I used to bring them to school for book covers when I taught older kids. The paper napkins don’t go in the garbage. As soon as it’s warm enough, I compost them. This year, that means as soon as the water goes down.
Compost! Recycle! Reuse! I’m at least a little greenish.

I teach in a school that celebrates Earth Week in a big way by reading stories, leading discussions, and teaching the students how to actually make a difference. One day this week we’ll have “No New Paper Day” where every piece of paper is a re-used piece. We hope this philosophy will spread. We don’t expect our colleagues to use only re-used paper, but to look for opportunities to cut down on the waste. A gradual transition can make a big difference on our world — and our budget.
We’ve set up a day for a minimal-waste lunch. The cafeteria staff created a menu of finger food to avoid using plastic utensils, and we’ll teach a minilesson on composting to show the kids how to throw food waste such as peelings in the compost instead of the garbage. We’ll encourage students to bring reusable containers instead of bags; many already do.
There’s more on the schedule, but I’ll leave it at that. I’m proud to be on this planning committee; we planned a week of celebrations that are also educational.

On the green scale, I may not be perfect, but I’m getting there. And honestly? I think I’m pretty darn good.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>There must be a punch line here somewhere.

Posted on by
4

> Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Canoe.
Canoe who?
Canoe tell me a good knock knock joke?

I could rename this post “When Canoes go Wild.” This one is tired of hanging on the garage, so it’s creating a stream for a getaway. Or maybe it’ll use the ladder to elope with the fishing boat behind the shed. It’s my neighbor’s canoe. Should I warn him? Or do you think he’d be happy not to have to pay for the big wedding?

Sorry, a bit punchy. It’s been a week. Let’s leave it at that. And it’s only Wednesday!

I’ll just go feed the rabbit.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Waterfront property, with wildlife

Posted on by
2

>

After the melting of a record winter’s snows and a few heavy April Showers, our backyard is a swamp. The lot behind ours? I’m looking for fish. Ducks, at least.

Neither family, ours or theirs, can get out and unwrap the grill or the camper or set up the picnic table. If you enjoy a squish, squish sound as you walk, you’ll love this!
Until the fish and waterfowl find the place, you’ll have to settle for bunnies. Can you see Friendly, our neighborhood rabbit? He was born in a tiny hole in our backyard, lived through the winter under our deck and our bushes, and now has a lady friend. He’s tolerating the wetness rather well. Can you find the bunny in the picture above?


Okay, I give in, here’s a close-up. I wasn’t really that close to him; I used the zoom. I didn’t want to disturb him, although how he could get cozy in the midst of this wetness I will never know.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Comfort in metaphor

Posted on by
6

>

Jennifer Graf Groneberg faces a familiar journey in Road Map to Holland: How I found my way through my son’s first two years with Down Syndrome. I, too, had to suddenly change my perception, modify my hopes and dreams, and dig for information when my infant son’s blindness was diagnosed. Ms. Groneberg and I faced parallels in some of our thinking processes, and one of those was a constant re-interpretation of life metaphors.
The Holland metaphor in her title comes from an essay by Emily Perl Kingsley describing the paradigm shift when a baby is diagnosed with a disability or other life-altering condition. The well-known essay likens the thought process to planning for a vacation to Italy, only to find yourself in Holland instead. The destination is still beautiful, but it’s totally different from the original plan.
I’ve never been a big fan of the Holland essay and metaphor, although I knew at least one mom who posted it on her refrigerator as inspiration. Rather, I likened the challenge to expecting a car with automatic everything and then getting a manual transmission instead. The driver has to learn to shift gears quickly and smoothly, both literally and figuratively.
Groneberg hears and adapts other metaphors to her own experience. “Kids are like sandpaper” didn’t quite make sense at first. Did it mean raising kids is rough? Wears you down? Eventually she takes a more positive angle on this one, seeing her child as the sander who smooths out her own rough edges as he grows.
Groneberg’s journey with Avery paralleled my journey with Amigo in several ways. I kept nodding as I read, thinking, “Oh, I remember going through that.” But I also remembered that the first few years were the easy ones. Babies are babies, even when they’re disabled. Her twins’ story might be more interesting as they grow up, are forced to face their differences, and the biases toward Avery and his Down syndrome become more overt. Going through the IEP process, making transition plans, looking into job training, and more await the family in the years ahead.

My hope for the Groneberg family is that they will love and cherish all three of their children for themselves, their strengths, and their unique individual traits. Despite the difficulty of the first few years, I hope they can see their glass, however fragile, as half full rather than half empty.

For more discussion of this book and others, go to MotherTalk Book Talks and Salon.

MotherTalk provided me with a free copy of this book in order to read it and review it. If you’d like to read it, leave me a note in the comments that includes your email or a link. I’ll mail it out to the first interested commenter.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>To sleep, perchance to dream

Posted on by
1

>

Amigo and I were traveling somewhere in a big city, but I didn’t recognize the place. I just know it was a big city and vaguely familiar. We stayed in an old-fashioned red-brick hotel that felt homey, almost dormlike. By day we kept going from one place to another using different forms of transportation: cab, bus, walking, even a boat at one point. Once in a while we’d retrace our steps to go back to another place, say, for lunch or to get something we’d seen earlier. As the dream progressed, he kept losing his white cane. I’d have to be his sighted guide and walk him quickly, almost drag him, back to wherever we’d been to find and retrieve his cane so that we could go on. This happened multiple times, and by the time I woke up I know he had asked to be carried and I’d said yes. To envision this scene, you need to know that he is four inches taller than I am and at least as heavy.

When I woke up, I shook the cobwebs from my head and got started with my morning routine.
When Amigo woke up, he was shaky with discomfort and pain, asking for a bucket because he felt like throwing up. Again. Still. He stayed home from school and visited the doctor again.

Tonight, I hope I dream a solution or better, a cure.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Meanwhile, back at the Ranch…

Posted on by
2

>Two women so different in age, in size, in stage of life. Yet once again (cue the tacky music) our bras got mixed up.
Monday morning, of course. It couldn’t happen any other day of the week. I reached for my, um, garments and found — one of La Petite’s bras instead of my own. It must have gotten mixed up in the laundry. Once again I thought I heard it wailing in fear as I stared at it, wondering how the heck this happened? She’s slim and trim. I’m not.
Wrapped up in a shower towel, I headed for the drying racks in the basement and grabbed one of my own. It was still damp, so I pulled out the hair dryer and blew some hot air (no silly comments from the peanut gallery, folks) in its direction. Then I gave up, threw the bra next to the heat vent, and threw my pajama top back on. A few minutes later, after breakfast was on the table and I’d finished putting in my contacts, I picked up the poor mishandled undergarment and finished dressing for work.
Then the day began, I taught my Tigger-clones, spent an hour at the doctor’s office with Amigo, and came home feeling like I should be singing something from the Musical episode of Scrubs. Never mind which song. You don’t. Want. To. Know.
So now, I feel done. Done in, done out. Not quite together enough to correct math tests, but maybe capable of putting stickers on the penmanship papers.
I could consider this Laundry Revenge, but I didn’t plan it. Honestly. At least not this time.
I just hope La Petite has enough spares to get through until Final Exams.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Walk on, Girlfriend!

Posted on by
Reply

>My dear friend Sara is walking — walking up a storm in Chicago. She and a good friend are participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer this spring. Sara had breast cancer a few years ago, and she suffered through chemo, radiation, reconstructive surgery (twice!), and more. She is an amazing woman with a fantastic sense of humor and a limitless capacity to love and care for others. Sara and an artist friend designed and decorated this lion, titled Breast Cancer Survivors: Not an Endangered Species.
She is collecting pledges on the Avon Walk web site. Money goes for both research and treatment. In her words,

“For 2 days 4000 people walked for one cause. It was a remarkable weekend….We watched as 4 groups were granted a total of 4 million dollars. Half of that went towards research, which is vital towards finding a cure (for all sorts of cancers), and half went towards care for under-insured breast cancer patients. I carried you all with me as I walked. I am so grateful for your help.”

You can help sponsor Sara and her walking buddy by following these steps.

  • Go online to Avonwalk.org
  • click on “Make a Donation”
  • click on “Donate to a participant”
  • click on “Chicago, 2008”
  • fill in first name Sara and last name Wilda
  • click on “find a walker/crew member”
  • click on Wilda,Sara
  • click on “Click Here to Support Me”

I know your time and your money are valuable. My donations have been embarrassingly small — a drop in the bucket, so to speak. But if enough people put drops in it, the bucket will eventually fill. All of us who have been touched by breast cancer (personally or in our families) really appreciate your support, be it financial or moral.

I almost titled this post “These boobs were made for walking!” Then I thought of all the weird and inappropriate google searches that might wind up here, and opted for the cleaner and more appropriate title. Sara, however, would have laughed out loud at the first one!

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Illness doesn’t have to be pandemic to matter.

Posted on by
Reply

>The annual IEP (in Amigo’s words, the I Eat Pizza) went reasonably well. Amigo at 16 has become much more self-confident in these meetings, and he handled quite a bit of it himself.

We went out for supper, decompressed, came home. Amigo did his homework, took his evening meds (for acne and for anxiety/tics), and went to bed. Almost exactly an hour later, he threw up.

We are the type of parents who analyze, worry, and then analyze and worry some more on the way to our decisions.

Analysis: his IEP caused him stress and anxiety.
Worry: Maybe his stomach wasn’t fully healed from its recent illness.
Analysis: The acne medicine upsets his stomach. He tossed his cookies about an hour after he took it.
Worry: Maybe we should call the doctor and ask for a change in meds.
Analysis: Being sick scares him. His Asperger’s style logic doesn’t let him calm down and heal.
Worry: This adds more anxiety, which upsets his stomach more. Again.
Analysis: He was exhausted and lacked appetite already on Sunday.
Worry: Was this a sign? And we missed it?

Decisions:
Keep him home for a day, let him rest, feed him bland foods, monitor (and analyze and worry) throughout the day. If he’s up to it, we’ll shop for a low-dose over-the-counter antacid. We’ll re-introduce the meds slowly, on a full stomach, well before bedtime, after consulting the doctor.

Upon further analysis, his illness continued for days, weeks, and eventually months. The local pediatrician referred us to the Big Children’s Hospital for a specialist and heavy duty testing. Amigo went through a week of gathering lab samples, only to have to do the tests over because the local hospital’s lab didn’t like the Big Hospital’s containers. These tests (you guessed it) showed nothing new, eliminated nothing from the list of possibilities.

Next up was a three day stint.
Day 1: prepare for tests.
Day 2: Travel to Big Children’s Hospital for Day Surgery, as the tests take place under general anesthesia.
Day 3: rest, resume some normal eating, rehydrate. Maybe, just maybe, start doing homework.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares

>Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear

Posted on by
7

>It’s not unusual during Spring in Wisconsin to watched a little baseball and then go to a hockey game. The annual Teddy Bear Toss has become a family tradition. It’s almost, but not quite, a regular hockey game. You can tell it’s not a typical game because…

The passenger on the zamboni is stuffed, and not with popcorn.

The goalie, dedicated soul that he is, remains in his stance while surrounded by teddy bears. Fans throw new teddy bears on the ice after the Green Bay Gamblers (the home team!) score their first goal. They (the bears, not the Gamblers) get donated to a local children’s hospital after the game.

Volunteers gather the bears, bag them up, and get them ready for donation to a local children’s hospital. The Gamblers won, 3-2, and the organization collected over 5,000 bears.

Share and Enjoy !

Shares