The Dignity of a Child

Dignity, it belongs to everyone.  There are a 101 posts that are waiting to be written on this but one stands out for me this week.

The other night I was on the phone with a friend. He was sharing (in a friendly way) how when one of our children had not done exactly as they were told and inconvenienced another, had he been the parent, he would have jumped down their throat and gave them the "what-to".  He said he would have told them to get themselves out to that car and sit there.  Punishment.  Then, with anger, they would be made to see the error in their ways by letting them know how awful they acted. Humiliation.

That they may have deserved something of this sort didn't occur to me or my husband.  The perpetrator knew they were wrong because of how I made a phone call. The tone, the words carefully measured.  I told the friend I didn't need to yell, threaten or embarrass the child because their own guilt was obvious. That they didn't listen or pretended not to, that they ignored someone had taken the time to drive over and was waiting for them to take them home, that the time limit was grossly ignored.  These facts were well known by the person, why would Ed or I have to rub them in their face?  It serves no purpose but to drive them to anger and possibly words and thoughts that were not there to begin with.  It doesn't disciple, hence, discipline, so it has no place.

It won't happen again. They were apologetic. Discipline done.  Move on.

Now, are there events or behavior that are really disturbing or that the child is defiantly defending that may elicit a more, shall we say, serious talk? With anger and great disappointment apparent, I have been on the receiving end of and I have delivered such talks.  They work.  But it should not be the norm, it should be rare so it is effective.

Dignity is something God gives to every person and it is precious and should be guarded by parents I believe. When some one's dignity is preserved they want to do better. They want to serve.  I have seen it for 26 years of parenting so I know this is so.  To ignore the dignity of a child regardless of age is seriously wrong. To say what would never be said to a friend or neighbor's child...is this appropriate?  Think about it...really think about it.  Do you deserve to be spoken to in a lesser way by your husband than he speaks to his fellow workers simply because you are related?  Interesting questions.

How about the inevitable August exasperated outbursts of, "I can't WAIT until they go back to school!"  "Thank goodness summer is almost over so they will be gone all day!".  This is said in grocery store lines, at the park, on the phone with the children standing right there listening.

Comparative scenario:  How about the husband speaking to a co worker on the phone about his wife," I cannot WAIT until she's outta here to go see her sister" or "It will be awesome when my wife starts working nights again so I can have some peace when I get home". 

Really? Really?  Do we not know that kids hear the way Mothers talk about them and wonder how important they are?  I know if I heard the comparative husband scenario in my home I'd be a little worried about the relationship. 

How do we speak to our children? 

How do we treat them?  Like our friends' children?

Do they KNOW they are the most important thing to us?  

Do they know we would move heaven and earth to help them? 

Do they think we speak well of them to others?

Dignity and a Dr. Seuss saying.....     "A person's a person no matter how small"

~Blessings~
     Lisa

The Coolest Cake....

Our twin boys received the coolest birthday cake yesterday from a wonderful volunteer of Icing Smiles.  

                                                          

From their website:

"Icing Smiles is a nonprofit organization that provides custom celebration cakes and other treats to families impacted by the critical illness of a child.  We understand that the simple things, like a cake, are luxuries to a family battling illness.  Our goal is to create a custom cake for the ill child, or their sibling, that provides a temporary escape from worry and creates a positive memory during a difficult time".

   The gal who made their Lego cake is Cosette Neely. She is a professional baker out of her home and so talented as you will see.....

                                                    Cosette and the boys

    Isn't that amazing? To have talent like that and then use it for charity. With all the negative things going on in the world this is a bright spot.  There are so many organizations like this, so many volunteers who choose to do good. Why is there not an entire newspaper or TV channel devoted to only the good?  I think it would make a big difference in perpetuating good behaviour.  Good people choosing to do good things.

   When we met Cosette for the first time, she came by to pick up the Lego guys she used on the cake and we visited for a bit, talking about where we were originally from.  It turns out she is from our hometown in California!! Talk about a small world.

   Cosette has a Facebook page  www.facebook.com/MySweetCosette  please visit and support a business woman who gives back.  We deal with multiple wonderful organizations because of our medical mumbo jumbo.  They are so friendly and kind, due I think, to the fact that they give, they serve, they provide help.  Here's a tiny list...

* Icing Smiles ~

     www.icingsmiles.org.     

     http://www.facebook.com/icingsmiles?fref=ts

* Make~A~Wish Washington/Alaska ~   

     http://www.makeawishwa.org/   

     http://www.facebook.com/northwestwishes?fref=ts

*Make~A~Wish New York ~

*Dream Factory

     http://www.dreamfactoryinc.org/AboutUs/FindAChapter/Oregon/tabid/5347/Default.aspx

     http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Dream-Factory-Inc-of-Oregon/378197740831

*Dr. Robert Lester M.D. ~  Black Hills Pediatrics

*Dr. Paolo Bolognese ~ The Chiari Institute

*Dr. Lin Jiang  ~  Black Hills Pediatrics

*Seattle Children's Hospital

*Miracle Flights ~    

     www.miracleflights.org 

     http://www.facebook.com/pages/Miracle-Flights-for-Kids/341835846232?fref=ts

*Ronald McDonald House of Long Island ~

     http://www.rmhlongisland.org/   

     http://www.facebook.com/RMHLI?fref=ts

*Variety House of Long Island

*Give Kids The World ~ 

     http://www.gktw.org/    

     http://www.facebook.com/gktwvillage?fref=ts

*Mercy Medical Airlift ~     

     http://mercymedical.org/    

     http://www.facebook.com/mercymedicalairlift?fref=ts

*Inspiration Through Art ~   

     http://www.inspirationthroughart.org/    

     http://www.facebook.com/dreamdoINSPIRE?fref=ts

*Harley Davidson Christmas "Run" ~

    http://www.nwharley.com/    

    http://www.facebook.com/NWHarleyDavidson?fref=ts

*American Airlines

*Delta Airlines

*US Air Airlines

*Jet Blue Airlines

*Southwest Airlines

All of these and more have helped us and we are so very grateful.  Good people do many good things and Cosette through Icing Smiles made the boys' birthday very special indeed.  Thanks Cosette!!

~Blessings~

    Lisa

A New Diagnosis

You know, God is just funny. Really. 

I have been mentally putting together a post about getting a new diagnosis in the last few days for the medical part of the blog because it's something we've done so many, many times and have been blessed to help others with. We've done it at Ronald McDonald House while we're there or when I was a moderator on an international medical board, or when folks were referred to me by a physician. It is a role I am comfortable with and have down to a T.

However, I get to walk the walk again myself before I can be a smarty pants and write all about it. This morning brought another progressive, difficult, daunting diagnosis with no cure. Mitochondrial Myopathy. Two of our children have Mitochondrial Disease, affectionately (or not) known as Mito. www.umdf.org   www.mitoaction.org .  I had been told numerous times " You know this is inherited right? And they got it from someone....."  So I knew but I didn't know.  I am not normally a denial person. I usually go at something difficult like a bull for the red cape but I have ignored this one for awhile.  Like some of the previous diagnosis' I thought ,"Yeah, right. You all just keep pinning diagnosis on us but they can't all be real". 

It is so ridiculous really. How many diseases can one person have anyway?  Apparently a LOT. I am by no means the Guiness Book holder, that goes to a friend of ours Joanna. Now that gal has a lot of diagnosis, so I cannot feel too sorry for myself knowing her.  Here are a couple links to Joanna's Story. It is so compelling because she has the worst of the worst yet she is the best of the best in so many respects.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PfBAn11JGY

and     http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/joannareid.

Anyway, a new diagnosis carries a set pattern, that for me anyway, never changes.

1.  Shock

2.  study, study, study

3. Denial/Disbelief  (then for me study,study,study)

4. Anger  (then for me study,study,study)

5. Sadness   (then for me study,study,study)

6. Acceptance  (then for me study,study,study)

Sometimes it goes very fast and I am at Sadness rapidly, then Acceptance. Sometimes it's an illness already in the family so Shock doesn't show up at all. Sometimes the shock is just such a ...well.....shock. That one takes awhile.  If Shock happens to loiter around, then panic steps in as another step before Study,study,study.  I don't usually have to do anger long but Ed does. That's a big one for men. Their list has a different emphasis on certain steps than a woman many times.  My husband doesn't do the study,study,study because that's my duty.  We have truly done this so many times we each have our jobs.  We have a dance, a pre-game plan (before surgeries), a pow-wow, an executive meeting.... you get the gist.  We divide and conquer.  It's His and Hers then we come together to get things done. 

What is odd is I can see this coming yet cannot control it. I know how I will react, I know what it entails, I know I will be fine in the end. Yet for some reason God has wired humans in such a way that this process must happen.  It's like I tell Ed about the younger kids......"Why can't they just skip this phase since we know they will eventually grow out of it? It's a waste of time really."  They NEVER skip a phase...ever.  Same with medical. It's as if you're standing outside yourself watching the drama unfold and are powerless to change it even though you know how it will turn out.

Powerless to change it.  There's a statement. And it's true. But we do have the power to do it with grace, kindness, understanding, a little class!  Even the hardest parts of it do not have to be taken out on others. Our behavior for the good or bad will not change the outcome of an illness but it will change how we cope for sure. I know for us it's one of those tests from God.

Do you trust me? He says. 

Do you believe I will make it right in the end?

Do you accept the lessons, sufferings, blessings I have to offer?

Do you believe I have the power to handle it all?

Like a bored child I answer...Yeeeeees Lord.  It isn't Him that I am frustrated with but myself. I wonder how I can possibly do another disease? How can I cause my family to have to do more for me? How can I watch yet another child suffer? How will we pay for it all?  What about the other kids....will they be neglected?  The how's and whys are endless really. But they all go back to God. I either trust Him or I don't. There's either a Divine plan or there isn't.  I'm not sure how you do this without faith. I have yet to deal with anyone who is trying to live in this medical circus who is not a person of faith. I believe it would be so painful and all look so hopeless without it.

Illness has so many meanings for us. I could write a book on them there are so many. Ultimately it is like a wise psychologist~priest I know says...."It all has to do with the fear of death. Period. If folks could learn to face and deal with that, anything difficult becomes that much lighter." Just as the need for love drives so much in us as humans, so also does the fear of death. We know this is true because we have had to deal with it multiple times.  We have mentally planned funerals for 3 of our children at different times. Times we didn't think we would see them again alive.  Once we could accept that yes, we or our children could die, will die someday....or tomorrow, things became lighter. Not easier but lighter.  That fear of death does not drive us during even the most scary surgeries or illnesses anymore.  It is like a stalker has been driven away.  It's faith that heaven is far better than anything here.  A realization this life is a preparation for the next, not one of which to be possessive. I must detach to really know God and have peace.

Is any of this easy? Nope.  It isn't easy at all. It is isolating, painful, scary, exhausting, disillusioning, etc., but if it's what God has called us to there is a successful way to do it or He wouldn't ask.

 Everyone...will...face...a...serious...illness...someday in themselves or their loved ones. You're not going to wiggle out of it. Don't run because it won't work.

 Prepare. Prepare with faith. We prepare for the biggest things in life and disasters are a part of life. It's your time to shine; to put to use your talents and gifts God has given you despite whatever difficulty. Step out of the situation and look down on it as God does....see things in the light of eternity. Life is not easy but it has lovely times. The problem is our culture says life should be awesome all the time.  What a bunch of malarkey (how on earth do you spell that??). 

Know that even in the worst times attitude and kindness, faith, thinking of others while in your most difficult challenges (and yes you can do this), suffering well my friends is the only way to come out of it happy.  Like it or not life keeps moving regardless of our challenges. Perspective allows us to keep moving too.

~Blessings~

     Lisa

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~Happy Freebies~
Lisa

Icing on the Cake....Or Some thing Else ?

I decided to write a silly post about clothing. Yes, clothing. About colours my Mom always wanted me to wear but I wouldn't, about the care of clothing, about cheap clothes and expensive clothes but most importantly about what clothes say and do.

My Mom is a fashion diva. I grew up with the diva but I don't know that I got the diva gene.  My Mom is a redhead and very thin and well proportioned...I am not. My Mom can afford expensive clothing....I cannot. My Mom dry cleans much of her clothing....I do not.  None of this is to say we're opposite because we're not, we're very similar in general. It's more of a how and why thing. It's one of those things where you figure out magically when you turn 40 how much your Mom knows...it's akin to that turning 21 and all of a sudden your parents become so smart and you can't figure out how that happened!

Mom would always tell me to wear browns, all shades. She encouraged me to wear golds, as in wheat sorts of tones. She said, black is classic, it goes with everything.  I wore not one of those until I turned 40...see, it's that "thing".  But, as usual Mom knows best and I now have an abundance of warm toned clothing. Turtle necks, skirts, leggings, scarves. I even have a black wool coat!

I suppose I wasn't interested in clothing while I was having babies because I was always covered in spit up of one sort or another. Playdough, paints, markers found their way to the front of my Mommy Uniform of whatever.  It was easier to have a set outfit I wore in different colors than to get upset because a small child got me dirty. After all that was my job for 20 years and my husband thought I was beautiful (love is blind you know).  However, now that I actually get regular showers, have time to curl my hair (well not exactly right now after the whole bald business!), can wear jewelry without it getting pulled off by a baby, I like clothes again and have more time to give them some attention.

We live modestly at our house because we chose to have 8 children on one income. This doesn't stop me though, from finding things I like at great prices. I am a Goodwill junkie from way back as a child, I love WalMart and for some reason folks like to give me their hand-me-downs which I LOVE.  I joke because I have gotten some of my loveliest pieces from those who have had someone they love pass over to the big party in heaven.  So with all respect, I get clothes from dead folks.  Then there's my Mom who sends me new pieces when she finds something I might like. 

Whenever I go home to California, Mom and I go to these awesome designer resale shops. It's super fun and they have great prices. Mom got a gorgeous Coach bag for $35.00 and it ain't no knock-off....my Mom's an expert.! I got the most beautiful, unique skirt, at one of the resale boutiques in Pacific Grove that is my favorite. It has these nifty gathers and lines. See below.....

In the airport I got compliment after compliment then the flight attendants asked where I got it !  It's because it's so unique.  I believe it was about $30.00 maybe even less. Lest you think I am prideful about such things please note I live with 7 men.....men who cannot figure out why my skirt is hiked up all funny.....need I say more?

So, second hand is the way to go when you're not Kate Middleton.  The only new thing I have that costs much more than I'd ever spend, is my Tom's shoes. Tom's....sigh.....I love my Tom's. Of course it was my Mom who started that love and she has bought all but 1 pair that I have. She's so good to me.  Mine are the sparkle Tom's...yes...sparkles. I love sparkly anything.  My first two pair were the black sparkles and then PINK sparkles. It just doesn't get any better than that.  But then Mom sent a black canvas pair with gold threading all woven in (see second pair below)  and I just think those are wonderful. They are as "formal" as Tom's can get but they go beautifully with my long brown peasant skirt. 

                                                                    www.toms.com

The practical thing I love about them is the support and comfort they provide. You wouldn't think it by looking at them but they are very comfortable and have a good squish when I step. Squish? Yes. After my first brain surgery I had some hardware placed and this effectively took away the cushion of the muscles in my head,neck and shoulders. Those muscles work like shock absorbers and I have NONE so when I step and don't have some squish, I get a jarring that makes me feel like Muhammad Ali after too many rounds.  When I first saw them I thought there was no way I could wear them but after my first try-on I was hooked. Enough about those awesome shoes except a friend just bought me the silver sparkle ones for Christmas....did you hear me.....silver sparkles!! 

The other practical and lovely thing about Tom's is their charitable giving. For every pair of Tom's sold they donate another pair to a poor child. Don't even need to say anymore about THAT.

I have learned that taking care of my clothes cleaning wise makes them last a stinkin' long time.  I wash in cold water and much of the time air dry.  I use Biz to soak stains out and if something is really delicate I use Woolite.   I try as hard as possible not to iron so I put them in the dryer for just a few minutes to fluff out the wrinkles.

I started taking better care of my clothes when I got some beautiful handmade skirts that faded when I did my old habit of warm water washing and warm drying. The fabric couldn't take it long term. I have a wonderful friend who started making me my favorite peasant skirt years ago. She has made them in many colours and patterns and I love them. Every time we go to NYC for medical, I get tons of compliments which is funny because you'd think they'd think I was a bit po-dunk. How do you spell po-dunk?  But it's true, I get comments all the time on my handmade country skirts.  They swing nicely because she uses a ton of fabric and they are so comfortable. I wear them with t-shirts in the summer and turtlenecks and scarves in the winter.  Then I was blessed with a new daughter-in-law-to-be who loves sewing as much as I do and my friend who makes the skirts taught her to make them too!!!  Boy did I hit the lottery, Lilly has made me several gorgeous skirts that I wear constantly.

Then I got some beautiful hand-me-downs from a friend who retired. A pretty forest green boiled wool sweater and a burgundy wool one were great gifts from her but those puppies have to be dry cleaned and that is not in the budget often. I am just mindful that when I get home from wherever, I take those off and hang them up before eating or doing anything messy.  My Mom recently had a dear friend pass away who was a clothes maniac. She sent me about 10 cashmere sweaters in gorgeous colours!!  The lottery again I'm telling ya.  They are so amazing because when it's in the 30's outside I can wear one without a coat. It's strange how warm they are and they aren't thick at all. After she gave me those, I was at her house and asked for a razor to de-ball one of them. She was aghast of course and hauled me to Ace Hardware for a battery operated de-baller.....really.  Now, though, I am a real fan. I de-ball anyone walking by me at home!  Watch out if you come to visit. I LOVE that darn thing. It too, like washing gently, keeps things looking new so much longer. Longer is good if you are of humble finances.

What do clothes say about us?  How do they make us feel?
What do clothes say about us? I think they can express our personality, I think they represent where we are in our lives sometimes, like when we have multiple babies and a house and husband to care for. I think they say something about your profession and for me they convey a big fat lie. Should I elaborate?  In short I run an extensive medical circus in our home. I practically live at Seattle Children's Hospital and various others. This has been quite the journey with many phases and a serious learning curve.  I discovered rather quickly that this was going to BE my life and that as hard as it was, as scary or sad, or heart breaking as something might be......I had choices. Choices about my demeanor,choices about appearance, choices about how I felt while doing all the things I do, like more than 60 doses of meds a day here. Like hours of scans all the time, how about hours and days in hem/onc for infusions, driving constantly up and down and up and down I-5 to Children's, up nights, down days, in labs and intensive care.  Through it all I always take the time to look dressed for "work", to put on make up, to put my hair up, to put on jewelry.  It makes a huge difference in many ways. 

Why does that matter in this post?  Because so many times when I didn't feel confident at all, I looked it. When I felt ill and would throw up in a bathroom somewhere, wipe my face, fix my hair, hold my head up and no one could tell.  Sitting in hospitals endlessly I saw that attitude was everything and clothing/presentation is part of that attitude.
I learned very quickly that looking the part of an educated, calm, higher income parent, I was kept in the loop much better. I was trusted and informed. I find it repulsive and unfair but it's the reality. I am not upper income, I am somewhat educated but I am just a Mommy trying to stay afloat with children who have many rare diseases.

The reality is.....  Appearance matters in a superficial world.  Now, do I care if I'm running to the grocery?  Nope. But, in a cardiologist's, endocrinologist's, bio-chemical geneticist's, neurosurgeon's office.....I need to be professional because I AM in fact a professional.... at medical. A medical Mommy and a patient.  As a patient with multiple challenging diagnosis' myself, I need to feel I look pleasant because I do not feel pleasant.  Clothing helps me La-La-La through my days.  It helps me feel better when I don't. On the rare day I don't dress, do my hair , put on my jewelry, I feel sicker, I feel lazier, I am down.  I have to battle this like the plague or I will drown in it since the diagnosis' I carry are progressive and never getting better.  Clothing helps me now in a way I couldn't have imagined years ago when I didn't care.

Does it sound stuck up?? If you knew me you'd laugh. Stuck up is hardly in my repertoire of personality traits.  It's just as easy to buy a lovely skirt for 4.99 at Goodwill as it is a baggy pair of sweats. It is no more expensive to look put-together then to look disheveled.  Put together does not equal stuck up.

On the positive side, I feel better when I look decent. When we're living at the hospital I dress for work because it IS my work. I have make up on, hair done, my professional clothes.  And I feel good and I cope better. The blinds are always open, the room clean and organized. This helps the over all medical picture tremendously.  It's more cheerful.  Consequently, I am confident about whatever disaster may happen that day.  It also teaches my children the world does not stop for their medical challenges. That life goes on and it will go on without us if we don't make an effort. It shows them I'm still in the game because they see me in reality and when I La-La-La..  My close friends know that the better I look, the worse I feel.  It's combat let me tell you.

So there are reasons for looking your best. It takes some work. It can be therapy. It can mean something beyond what it appears to.  And it does not mean you have money, are better than anyone else or self absorbed.  Things I sadly admit I thought years ago about those who were fashion conscious. It's nice to get older and get a clue don't you think?

Now, I recognize this is all somewhat superficial and not important in the grand scheme of things. I would be just as happy without the materialistic silliness clothing represents......but I wouldn't be sparkly!

~Blessings~
    Lisa

Boxes

In life there are many, many boxes.

In each area of our lives are boxes.

Within these boxes can be more boxes.

Boxes can be full of many things....

In the medical world in which we spend a large amount of our lives, there are so many boxes that it can feel you're wandering aimlessly through them, one stacked upon another, upon another like skyscrapers in New York City. That's how many boxes there are.

Boxes that contain ...

each diagnosis

information, information and more information

a new language for each disease

technology, medical equipment, meds, supplies

emotion of the child

emotion of the parents

siblings

finances

family

extended family

faith

psychological challenges ~ grief cycle of fear,anger, denial, acceptance

sociological ~ dealing with others' issues with our medical

time

nurturing others

the couple relationship

expectations

and on, and on....

When one gets the unwanted and unsolicited invitation into this skyscraper world of boxes it is so scary and lonely and confusing but after awhile you get to know your boxes and become accustomed to opening them when you need to and even accustomed to them being opened for you and how alarming that can be. They become normal...a new normal. There is a whole other post waiting to be written about these terrible, wonderful, challenging, grace-filled, inescapable boxes but today is just one little Mommy box.

Today I sit at Children's Hospital, a day like a million others yet not. Mary and I got up and on the road for the 1 1/2 hr. trip in the yukky Pacific Northwest rain like we always do. We have our usual appointments then 2 infusions in hem/onc, a whole day here. But something is different.

A few weeks ago Mary gently requested that she see her endocrinologist by herself. Because she knows me well, she knows this request carries box I have yet to be opened with her. Letting go completely.

I have easily let go of smaller things because she is awesome with her own care which is significant in quantity.

I have already done the completely letting go thing with two sons who have multiple medical problems and I survived. I even made it look like it was no big deal. IT'S A HUGE DEAL. Ahem...sorry for the outburst! I knew I could box up my emotion because letting them open that box of responsibility and their desire to handle their own stuff was far more important than my internal Mommy Meltdown. (That's another box...meltdowns.)

The boys, Eddie and Joe, have handled their medical beautifully and ask me questions when they need to. They do it all; insurance, appointments, supplies, even scheduling and planning surgeries! For a Mom who is continually feeling like I am not doing enough, these boys....excuse me, men, make me see Ed and I are did something right. They can take care of themselves.....and well.

So as Mary is in the back with her various providers, I am out here with a coffee, writing. I am proud of my children for dealing with their medical stuff. I am relieved in a way that some of it is off my plate. I am also freaking out folks. But then I have my husband who lets go of the medical a little easier than I, who will comfort me and remind me of all the things I won't have to handle for that particular child anymore. Sigh...... It's a good thing. Right?

Thankfully, Children's has trained not only Mary but Mom to let go because of the way they treat and speak to the youth here. She is asked pertinent questions. She is asked to check her very long medicine list. She is asked about whether or not a particular treatment will be good for her or not. We all discuss it but she has control and input. I can remember being a bit uncomfortable with that when it first started happening. It was un nerving for a 12 yr old to be asked what she would like to do about this or that even though at home we gave her a ton of control. (This too is another post. I think I may have to start a medical page on the blog.)

She is now graduating into the decision making world of medical without me there...a whole new world that she has been perfectly prepared for.....by God, her parents and Seattle Children's Hospital.

Maybe you can all pray for a sniveling Momma today.

Maybe I can have more babies? Maybe not.

Maybe I can get a sucker for being good.

Maybe I just have to muddle through.

~Blessings~
    Lisa

 

Friends

Today my friend Gayle and I took on the world. Well, in my little world anyway.  My days are pretty similar within a rotating pattern of 4 types.....

1.  A day full of medical at any of our varied medical facilities; Children's Hospital, North Shore Long Island Jewish Hospital, University of Washington Hospital, The Chiari Institute, the NIH, any number of universities that are studying us, or any of our many local doctors and labs.

2.  A stay-at-home homeshooling day along with some laundry, chores and meals sprinkled in.

3.  What we call a "Bum Day"....those are the BEST !  Reading, gardening, calls, blogging, organizing, etc.

4. Sundays which are family/church/BBQ days.

   However, a couple Saturdays a month Gayle the Trouble Maker calls and kidnaps me for a day of goofing off and food !  She's a wonderful friend except she's nuts. There's nothing she won't say and it's usually about me to some stranger. 

Like....

She once told a waiter that I write bad checks so be sure not to take one from me especially since I drink too much. This was said as she was wearing her police department shirt (She works for a local police department) !!!!  Do you think that man believed me after seeing that?  Nope.  He gave me the weirdest looks.  I just groaned. Since some of you don't know me, I am "Miss Obey The Rules" kinda gal and I don't drink.  I kind of look prim and proper too.

She will tell any sales person, waitress, gas station attendant, anyone, whatever falsehood comes into her head about me. Sigh..... 

 With our Medical Circus and her working for law enforcement we both need goof-off time in a big way.  It always begins with food then usually shopping then some sort of treat.  The best part though is the visiting.  She's as out-going as I am so there's no shortage of words. We never get everything said.

   What I am mulling over this evening after spending the day with Gayle is how awesome it is to have a wonderful friend who is totally different than myself.  She has one grown child, she is retired from 20 years in the Air Force, has been all over the world, is super adventurous, loves to exercise, is an Energizer Bunny, is a Democrat, and on and on.  I love those traits about her and even though some she has are totally opposite of mine, we have never had a single argument.  We know we differ on some things but choose not to worry about it. Life is short. With our medical and her law enforcement days we realize life really is short....it isn't just a saying.

   The most important thing I admire and appreciate, is her non-judgemental ear. She listens and never judges.  The second, is she sees me as a whole person.  That may sound weird but I am very good at what our family calls La-La-La-ing. This means with all our crazy medical issues that are never going away, regardless of our symptoms, pain level, stamina, we can appear normal for a time.  But Gayle (as well as a small hand full of friends) can see through it and she doesn't care one bit if I cannot walk to shop or cannot eat because of nausea.  I never feel I am ruining her time or am making her uncomfortable as some are with disability. It means so much to me that she will still order what she likes, she'll order me a tea and honey and we sit for hours just talking.  On my slower days we may just run her errands but I sit in the car as she runs in and out. We visit as she drives and we have a ball. She just integrates my disabilities into her day. She takes me for what I am, totally.  This is a true blessing.

   So here's to lovely friends, being kidnapped and coming home.  Thanks Gayle.

~Blessings~

 Lisa

On Kindness

Growing up I never, ever, ever saw my Mother be unkind. She was always kind and well mannered to everyone she came in contact with regardless of their disposition towards her.  Without ever knowing when or where or how it happened I learned that kindness goes a loooooong way.

It is natural to me to try and be kind to those I meet in a day because I am a people person. Am I always kind…..um, no. However, I try and make it my norm and I believe it changes hearts, days, people.  It is easy to change someone’s day simply by smiling and being kind when they are not. It seems to mean more when they are not. When a stranger is grouchy, sad, even mean, this spurs me on to try and change their demeanor.  It is something to conquer, someone to win over and I love it.  It is very, very rare for me to lose a grump over to themselves.  If a smile and “How’s your day going?” doesn’t do it, then I try and commiserate with them; “It looks like a ton of customers have gone through here today. What a nightmare, you probably can’t wait to get off the clock.” or a genuine compliment and letting them know life can be hard and the day is almost over.  It rarely fails to elicit a smile.

I have been on the receiving end of kindness many times. One that stands out though, is when I had miscarried our baby and was waiting to go into surgery.  A nurse who overheard we had 8 living children walked over and was very rude about the number of children we had.  The nurse who remained was mortified and apologized. I asked for the charge nurse and kindly asked her to tell the rude nurse, word for word, ” Please know that there won’t be a 9 th Currall Baby because she is dead. ” To my surprise, the charge nurse actually told her then returned with a beautiful Miraculous Medal ( a medal with the Blessed Mother Mary on it) that she pinned on my patient bracelet. She wanted me to know she’d be praying while I was in surgery.  She also said she would make sure our baby’s remains were handled with care as they went to the lab.  I was so touched, so thankful and so emotional.  Had the rude nurse not been rude none of those comforts would have been there for me.  God uses everything.

The rude nurse?  She ended up taking care of me in the kindest, sweetest manner and because I reacted kindly in return, she was sorrowful at her lack of kindness and empathy for our family at such a hard time.  Every one's defenses were securely locked away. When she’d heard the size of our family it was during intake and she didn’t know why I was there.  God provided for everyone that day and because we all practiced some sort of kindness, we were rewarded and learned our own lessons.

Are you ever kind in return for a rude comment or gesture?  Do we react poorly because we want to defend ourselves or do we take the high road thinking of the other person and responding with kindness keeping in mind it may be a hard day for them?

Are we unkind because we feel judged?  Because we are in mourning or have been rejected?  How about financial issues, rebellious children issues or illness?  When we react with kindness regardless of someone's first actions, we have a good chance of changing their day even for a few minutes.

This has become a sort of hobby for me because I love people and am a people person. I have gained some wonderful friends practicing my hobby; friends who might be labeled “difficult”.

This hobby is particularly helpful because of the vast amount of medical personnel we deal with.  These folks have very stressful jobs especially in a Children’s hospital.  I rarely give up on any grumpy person and it always pays off for both of us.  Just to convey understanding that what they do is difficult can open someone up like a flower.  Folks feel taken for granted and to express understanding can break the shell of the hardest egg.  Even if I don’t do what they do or understand their crosses they carry, to try and put myself in their shoes goes a loooooong way and costs me nothing.

How about kindness in our families?  Do we treat others better than we treat our own family? Do we speak to our kids the way we would speak to a neighbor’s children?  We should never say something to our own child we wouldn’t say to our best friend’s child.  Do we have kind words for our spouse?  Do we have kind words for ourselves?

Kindness is something….

That can be practiced by any type of person, outgoing or shy, young or old

That is free

That is easy

That can be done many times a day

That always comes back to you

That represents God

That is always positive even if we don’t get a positive response

 That costs nothing but our will

 That we should teach our children by example.

   I sometimes feel sad that we live in a world that is so busy and fast paced, with heads and eyes down, looking at phones.  Look up today, smile, and if you’re feeling brave say something nice to someone in a store or at the office or best of all to your family.  We can change the world one person at a time….but mostly we change ourselves.

~Blessings~

 Lisa

Saying Good Bye to Diabetes Supplies

In our house we have 2 type 1 diabetic kids and another pre-diabetic child.

When our son was diagnosed 15 years ago it was such a huge deal. He was in the hospital for a week and I was on bedrest with our 6th baby.....in his hospital room!  We had all the neccessary classes on insulin use, food exchanges, Glucagon and ketones.  It was a whole new language and so scary.  So many needles as he had 6-7 shots a day, so many nights getting up multiple times to check blood sugars, giving Eddie Glucagon when he was out cold on the floor of our living room.

Because our son's blood sugars were so very difficult to manage right from the start we had to travel 2 hours south to one of the best endocrinology practices in the Northwest. They were awesome and we literally went to boot camp. We had a wonderful educator named Karin who we called our Blood Sugar Fairy. She was hilarious, balanced, supportive and kind.  We learned so much and not just how to manage his diabetes but about the disease itself.  I studied and studied and studied some more. 

The one thing I did not seem to hear from the beginning was that there was never going to be a place of arrival...that day when all the blood sugars would be in perfect range and the work would be over.  I sort of thought we were on the quest for a certain "place"....whatever that was.  I remember calling Karin one day in tears because no matter what I did Eddie's BGs would not go into or stay in range. It was so darn frustrating.  It took me about a year to realize it is a journey, a constant work in progress.

At the time Eddie was only 10 years old and as much as he did with his diabetes, I was still responsible for the over all picture.  I worked at it like a dog. Like a Mother who didn't want complications for her baby.  Worked at it because we lost my husband's brother to diabetes related causes at 36 years old and I was not going to allow that.

We got to where everything with diabetes became normal and Eddie got an insulin pump so all was well with the world...yeah right. Then at 10 years old Mary was diagnosed.  We were already good at this so it wasn't near the trauma as the first time around.  It was hard for Miss Mary but she took it on like a trouper. 

There is so much to our family diabetes journey but this post is about a mile stone. A milestone I never thought would happen.  Eddie takes care of all his diabetes because he's all grown up and out on his own.  Mary turns 18 soon and is the only human at our house with a room of her own so her supplies are moving in with her!  Ed and I will actually have a closet...a whole closet! So weird.

When this whole diabetes business started all those years ago, we built shelves into our closet for the huge amount of supplies needed when you have an insulin pump user. Then we had two so the quantity of supplies was crazy. Every three months $12,000.00 worth of supplies arrived and they had to be dated, organized and put away. There were 3 shelves and 7 drawers full!

I am not sure what I will do with this new found space. I feel rather emotional about it.  Unfortunately  the journey never ends for our kids with Diabetes but it has mostly ended for Ed and I....until another one comes up with it :)

So tomorrow Mary and I will move the supplies, organize it all in her room and I will sit and stare at the closet that housed about $25,000.00 worth of supplies at any given time for the last 15 years.

Sigh.....

~Blessings~
     Lisa

Three Years Ago.....by Katheryn Cordes

                                                  
...we were matched with Verity's birthmother!

                 Verity,Matthew, Gethsemane, Katheryn and Bosco Cordes

The other day Verity and I were snuggling and she had her blankie from her birthmother. When I asked who gave it to her, she said, "Jessica."

"And do you remember who Jessica is?"

"In her tummy."

"You grew in her tummy?"

"Yes. 'Cause Mommy's tummy is broken."

Then, I hugged her tighter and praised her for remembering.
Later, I cried.

It is one thing to tell your baby she was adopted from day one. It is another to hear it from her own voice for the first time.

I've heard it is common for adopted children to wish they grew in their mother's tummy, around ages 3-5. That makes sense. You know what? I wish that too. I wish Verity and Gethey grew in my tummy. I wish I were with them every moment of their lives, been the one to nourish and protect them while they grew. I wish I had given them birth. I wish that their birthmothers didn't have to go through the immense pain that they did. Yes, these are crazy wishes. Its like wishing an In-N-Out burger has zero calories. The heart wishes some crrraazzzyyy things. If they grew inside me, they would not be them, with their special DNA, and oh, so stinkin' cute curls. And I would a million and one times rather have THEM then have had a biological child. When you think about it, that fact that WE ended up with THEM is a complete and utter miracle of astounding proportions.

Adoption is wonderful... of all the people in the world, I can pretty much guarantee you that I will sing its praises the loudest. But it is a blessing and a gift that is not without pain. The tears of longing of a not-yet mother, the tears of a birthmother's shattered heart...it is marked by loss and grief. It is a beautiful example, I think, of how God weaves magic in this broken world, to bring about an even greater good. Maybe in a perfect world, everyone who wanted a baby would have one, and only when they were ready. Maybe no parents would die. No mother would have to choose an adoption plan for the baby kicking inside her. Maybe there would be no need for adoption.
But this is not a perfect world. It is a world of broken tummies, broken hearts, broken families, broken...everything.

But it IS a world of strength. Strong hearts that long for, search for, and fight for the children that were meant to be theirs. Strong hearts that love their children enough to choose the best life for them, even when it feels like their own lives are ending. And most of all, a God of Wonder, who mends hearts, fulfills dreams, and entwines lives together in amazing and wondrous ways.

If we were not infertile, we would still have wanted to adopt. I didn't adopt my girls because I couldn't get pregnant. I adopted them because they were meant to be mine, and that was somehow written on my heart, theirs, and their birthmothers'. They are in no way "second" choices. They are the first and most perfect choices of all. My infertility was a small piece in our particular puzzle that led to our particular meant-to-be girls. Other people have different pieces, different arrows, different threads. But for me, my infertility was a big piece. The pain enlarged my heart, made me the mother I am. It caused us to prioritize financially for adoption earlier than we may have, had I gotten pregnant. It may have been a factor in our birthmothers choosing us in particular.

Maybe in a perfect world my tummy would not be broken. But in a perfect world I would not have my perfect daughters.

Thank you, God, for my brokenness.

                         


This was written by a friend of ours. She and her husband Matthew are both the first born of huge families but were unable to give birth to their own children.  Ed and I were not surprised by their generosity of heart in adopting, but we have been so impressed by their dedication in now adopting three children in 3 years! They have jumped feet first into parenthood. Through their pain and disappointment has blossomed service, sacrifice and 3 lovely babies. 

I wanted to put this in the blog because I hear so often, the mistaken belief that folks who are prolife don't want to walk the walk of adopting children of Moms who might otherwise have aborted these precious souls.  We know multiple families who have adopted children out of their pro life heart.  My best friend and her husband adopted a family member's baby after they already had 8 of their own!  I lost a friend to cancer who with her husband adopted 11 children of many different cultures and races some with handicaps....but all cherished and loved.

I hope you enjoy the above thoughts by Katheryn as much as I did.

~Blessings~
       Lisa

Expectations

   As I grew into a teen who knew everything, I recognized I had expectations of my Mom. As similar as we are/were in personality and temperament, we were also completely opposite in other ways.

    Mom was a beautiful, thin, fashionable, gracious, intelligent, hardworking, popular, modern woman.  I wanted a stay-at-home Mom who sewed my clothes, came to every school activity with cupcakes, gave me brothers and sisters, would buy me a dog and drive a station wagon.  You know, the caricature of an American Mom of the 1950’s.  I think I watched too much Brady Bunch, Father Knows Best and Bewitched.  I created a picture that I thought was perfect and as I grew, I resented more and more I did not have this.  Because I was raised properly, this rightfully created tremendous guilt.

     A little background…..Mom had married someone who represented himself as a person he was not. Things went downhill quickly and for our safety she divorced him when I was 5.  She was left with tremendous debt he had mounted up in the small businesses in our town.  Although they told her to forget the debt because they knew and trusted her, she paid each of these businesses as little as $2.50 per paycheck to repay them because it was the right thing to do.   Never, ever, even once did she say an ugly thing about my Dad.  She did not place upon me her pain, disappointment and even fear that was part of her life during that time.

    Mom always provided everything I needed, miraculously on a single parent’s salary.  Christmases and birthdays were never sparse but abundant, she was home every night, our home was beautiful and spotless and I’m sure she went without to provide this for me.
   
    Although Mom and I always got along, as I got older and got married I continued to secretly resent what I believed I had missed and deserved; the perfect American Family dream.  Even as a child I knew she did not plan how things had happened with my Dad, I knew she was a decent, honest, hardworking person, that would have liked things to be different but I grieved over the perfect childhood. 

    It didn’t take long after becoming a Mother that my heart finally softened because I saw that the life I chose to lead as the stay-at-home Mom, sewing my and my children’s clothes, crafting, etc. would not have made my Mother happy.  It wasn’t who she was.   I began instead, to appreciate in a new adult way the many wonderful qualities she possessed. 

   I have an unproven theory that every other generation is similar to one another. It’s almost as if each decides they will be different than the previous.  My Grandmother was like me, my Mom totally opposite of her Mom.  As I pondered this as a young adult I saw that I could be the old fashioned kind of Mom I wanted to be, yet could integrate all the wonderful, modern, intelligent, deeply held convictions of the modern city girl my Mom had become after growing up and leaving her lovely Midwestern home.  I began to see God had a plan that I could never have thought of myself; that He was in control and that I was blessed to have the best of both worlds. 

                                                            
                                                        Me in my delusional mind !

                                                               Mom

   I consider myself an old fashioned Mom yet I practice a type of mothering that has all the benefits of modern thinking and respect for the personhood of a child.  I don’t mean to say we have children who are equal to us because we certainly do have a hierarchy here, but to say that they deserve respect as persons, as children of God and they are not our possessions but are on loan to us.  This is how I was raised. I am deeply thankful, deeply sorry, deeply appreciative now.  I see well that the “high road” that she so often spoke of need not belong to a certain type of person, a certain type of Mom or political party, or race, or religion.  She always took the high road and taught me the same. The qualities she imparted went beyond my unfair expectations of her.

   Now when I go home to visit, I step into her world and we shop and talk about fashion.  We ride in her fancy vehicle, have our nails done and eat out; everything so different than my world, but I now LOVE doing this with her. I love the person she is because she molded me into who I am and I rather like myself.  She is responsible for the way we parent and I am beyond grateful for this.

   This realization has made it clear to me that I must see all things in life whether I perceive them positive or negative as God setting me up. Setting me up for a revelation that no, I do not know everything, that what appears hard may be a great blessing in the future; that what is difficult is character building, that what seems unfair is, in time, a gift.

~Blessings~

           Lisa