I have recently learned that the Dalai Lama is coming to Seattle, and I'm thrilled at the prospect of seeing him speak.
Check it out:
http://www.seedsofcompassion.net/event/
I personally believe that the Dalai Lama is one of the most compassionate, intelligent people on the planet, and every time I hear him speak (never in person, unfortunately) or read his writing I walk away feeling more committed to being a positive person in the world. I admire his teachings greatly, and I would be more excited than I can express if I got to see him.
This particular program is interesting to me because it is all about teaching children compassion, and raising our children compassionately. As I struggle to be a compassionate person, I know that I struggle to model to Tessa, and I hope that I can learn more.
Tickets aren't on sale or available yet, but I hope to be able to get my hands on some.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Churches that advertise
The UU organization is advertising in Time Magazine. I'm not sure how I feel about this; on the one hand, evangelism generally makes me feel uncomfortable; on the other, I'm grateful to have stumbled onto the UU faith but it was almost entirely by accident and I wish I'd heard of it sooner and these ads might help facilitate that for others.
Anyway, here's a link to the ad. It is next to an interesting article about Einstein's faith.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1607298,00.html
Anyway, here's a link to the ad. It is next to an interesting article about Einstein's faith.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1607298,00.html
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
More kindergarten talk
Well, prepare to hear lots of kindergarten talk on this blog in the next couple of months as I make decisions about where to send Tessa. We're just at the beginning and it's a bit overwhelming.
First, I realize that choosing a kindergarten is not the most critical decision in a child's life. I recognize that Tessa is well primed to succeed in kindergarten. I believe that she's the "ideal" student, in that she's able to sit and listen, she wants to please her teachers/authority figures, she doesn't appear to have any learning disabilities, she's social, and she has a love of learning and of books. Because she has educated parents who will be active in the school she's in, and because we care about reading in the home, and because we model reading and writing to her (mom's in a book club and writes in a journal; dad's constantly taking trips to the library to pick up books), and because we are well set up to support her homework, etc., it is my suspicion that she will succeed in just about any school. In this regard, she is like most of the children that we know: middle class children who don't worry about a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and parents who love them. These things alone are a great head start in education.
Still, I feel a lot of pressure to choose well for her. Success can be judged in lots of ways, and I need to decide where my own values lie in order to decide what a successful kindergarten placement will look like.
Now, this seems like it should be easy. I value safety, academics, community, diversity, love of learning, parent involvement, access to materials (books, technology, etc.), caring faculty, development of critical thinking more than rote memorization, development of social-emotional as well as intellectual strengths, art programs, music programs, foreign language, PE programs, encouragement of girls into math and science, excellent reading and writing programs, after school programs like running club or basketball or chess, a nice building, low student to teacher ratios, good test scores, pride in the school environment....
Can you see where I run into problems? That is a long list, and not one local public school meets everything in that list. Some schools emphasize community more than academics; some schools have art but not foreign language; some schools have great writing programs but lesser science programs. It's not a perfect world, so I can't have it all (no news there), so I have to decide which of these things is most important to me, and then make the match.
We know we intend to stay in West Seattle. We know that we intend to pursue public, not private, school options. I'm not going into it here, but we believe that we have excellent reasons for our family to reach these conclusions, and we're happy to stay the course on those two issues.
The first major decision I have to make is about academic rigor versus diversity (and how the encouragement of, or lack of, diversity impacts community). One local school (Lafayette) has the Spectrum program for gifted and talented children, and it's possible that Tessa could test into this program. The program is at a school noted for its high test scores, traditional learning styles, and lack of diversity as compared to other schools in the area. Another local school (Pathfinder, the alternative school) has an incredible approach toward community and diversity, and really works with kids' creativity, but I fear that they do not have the academic rigor that would help Tessa live up to her potential.
Two schools, Alki and Schmitz Park, appear to be more middle of the road and may meet all of our needs, but they appear to be very popular and we may not get in to either of them.
Our local reference school is Gatewood, and I just don't know enough about them yet. Academically, though, they do not appear to have great strength, or maybe I'm just judging test scores (and we all know how they are filled with falacies).
I have not made any decisions. I toured Pathfinder today, and I have tours set up for other schools. But in order to make my decisions, first I have to struggle through this list of values to determine what my ranked order is. This is tough work for Ryan and I, as we want only the best for our beautiful (her heart, mind, soul as much as her outsides) daughter.
Whatever we do, it will be okay. Nothing is irrevocable. Still, it would be nice to choose the right school from the get-go, and just enjoy the ride.
First, I realize that choosing a kindergarten is not the most critical decision in a child's life. I recognize that Tessa is well primed to succeed in kindergarten. I believe that she's the "ideal" student, in that she's able to sit and listen, she wants to please her teachers/authority figures, she doesn't appear to have any learning disabilities, she's social, and she has a love of learning and of books. Because she has educated parents who will be active in the school she's in, and because we care about reading in the home, and because we model reading and writing to her (mom's in a book club and writes in a journal; dad's constantly taking trips to the library to pick up books), and because we are well set up to support her homework, etc., it is my suspicion that she will succeed in just about any school. In this regard, she is like most of the children that we know: middle class children who don't worry about a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and parents who love them. These things alone are a great head start in education.
Still, I feel a lot of pressure to choose well for her. Success can be judged in lots of ways, and I need to decide where my own values lie in order to decide what a successful kindergarten placement will look like.
Now, this seems like it should be easy. I value safety, academics, community, diversity, love of learning, parent involvement, access to materials (books, technology, etc.), caring faculty, development of critical thinking more than rote memorization, development of social-emotional as well as intellectual strengths, art programs, music programs, foreign language, PE programs, encouragement of girls into math and science, excellent reading and writing programs, after school programs like running club or basketball or chess, a nice building, low student to teacher ratios, good test scores, pride in the school environment....
Can you see where I run into problems? That is a long list, and not one local public school meets everything in that list. Some schools emphasize community more than academics; some schools have art but not foreign language; some schools have great writing programs but lesser science programs. It's not a perfect world, so I can't have it all (no news there), so I have to decide which of these things is most important to me, and then make the match.
We know we intend to stay in West Seattle. We know that we intend to pursue public, not private, school options. I'm not going into it here, but we believe that we have excellent reasons for our family to reach these conclusions, and we're happy to stay the course on those two issues.
The first major decision I have to make is about academic rigor versus diversity (and how the encouragement of, or lack of, diversity impacts community). One local school (Lafayette) has the Spectrum program for gifted and talented children, and it's possible that Tessa could test into this program. The program is at a school noted for its high test scores, traditional learning styles, and lack of diversity as compared to other schools in the area. Another local school (Pathfinder, the alternative school) has an incredible approach toward community and diversity, and really works with kids' creativity, but I fear that they do not have the academic rigor that would help Tessa live up to her potential.
Two schools, Alki and Schmitz Park, appear to be more middle of the road and may meet all of our needs, but they appear to be very popular and we may not get in to either of them.
Our local reference school is Gatewood, and I just don't know enough about them yet. Academically, though, they do not appear to have great strength, or maybe I'm just judging test scores (and we all know how they are filled with falacies).
I have not made any decisions. I toured Pathfinder today, and I have tours set up for other schools. But in order to make my decisions, first I have to struggle through this list of values to determine what my ranked order is. This is tough work for Ryan and I, as we want only the best for our beautiful (her heart, mind, soul as much as her outsides) daughter.
Whatever we do, it will be okay. Nothing is irrevocable. Still, it would be nice to choose the right school from the get-go, and just enjoy the ride.
Friday, January 04, 2008
What Not to Say to a Cancer Survivor
This is thanks to The Cancer Crusade, an organization that sends me weekly thoughts on cancer survivorship. They are also the creators of the brilliant survivor movie that I've posted here before:
http://www.thecancercrusade.com/Cancer_Survivors/cancer_survivors.asp
I'm posting this because it rings incredibly true with me. Thank you for reading it and understanding.
-------------
Whether you are a newly diagnosed survivor or someone who loves him or her, cancer rocks your world. We survivors have our own issues to face, but those of you who care for us can help by learning what not to say. We know you mean well, but please avoid the following platitudes:
"God won't give you more than you can handle." This implies that God gave me cancer. I don't buy it. The God I know is about goodness and light and love and healing. He doesn't throw down lightning bolts of cancer (or other catastrophes for that matter); that kind of thinking went out with ancient mythology. My cancer was caused by some cellular misfire, some rotten biological/chemical event, a chink in my body's immune system armor. Instead of telling me that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, remind me that God helps us handle what we are given.
"I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. You'll probably outlive me." Keep that up, and I can guarantee it. Look, if you're walking blindfolded down the middle of a major interstate highway during rush hour when you say this (because that's how I feel right now), it might make sense and I might agree with you. Otherwise, it's a meaningless remark that does nothing to make me feel better. In fact, now I'm worried about you. Thanks a lot.
"You have to have a positive attitude to beat this, so come on! Be positive!" You've just added to the terror I'm already experiencing. You have implied (whether you meant to or not) that I'm hurting my chances of getting well because I'm very sad and very scared right now. If you really want to help me, acknowledge and validate my feelings. Feelings are not facts, so you can't argue with them; please don't try. Instead, help me express what's in my heart and on my mind. You don't need to respond to everything I say. Just listen without trying to "fix" things. I will find my way to a more "positive attitude" as I gain understanding of my disease and treatment plan and as I begin to regain control of my life. Be patient with me. I'll get there in my own time.
"Don't cry. It will all be okay." These words are almost always said because the person who is witnessing the crying is uncomfortable. If you're uncomfortable seeing me cry, then please don't come around for a while. I need to cry sometimes, and I don't need anyone telling me not to. Crying is healthy. It helps me get the bad stuff out, and that helps make room for the really good stuff like wholeness and healing.And you don't know if it will "all be okay" anymore than I do, so don't say that. In fact, don't say anything just to be saying something. If you can just sit with me and be with me and acknowledge through your silent companionship that we are mere mortals but we are in this together, that will be more comforting to me than anything you could say.
http://www.thecancercrusade.com/Cancer_Survivors/cancer_survivors.asp
I'm posting this because it rings incredibly true with me. Thank you for reading it and understanding.
-------------
Whether you are a newly diagnosed survivor or someone who loves him or her, cancer rocks your world. We survivors have our own issues to face, but those of you who care for us can help by learning what not to say. We know you mean well, but please avoid the following platitudes:
"God won't give you more than you can handle." This implies that God gave me cancer. I don't buy it. The God I know is about goodness and light and love and healing. He doesn't throw down lightning bolts of cancer (or other catastrophes for that matter); that kind of thinking went out with ancient mythology. My cancer was caused by some cellular misfire, some rotten biological/chemical event, a chink in my body's immune system armor. Instead of telling me that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, remind me that God helps us handle what we are given.
"I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. You'll probably outlive me." Keep that up, and I can guarantee it. Look, if you're walking blindfolded down the middle of a major interstate highway during rush hour when you say this (because that's how I feel right now), it might make sense and I might agree with you. Otherwise, it's a meaningless remark that does nothing to make me feel better. In fact, now I'm worried about you. Thanks a lot.
"You have to have a positive attitude to beat this, so come on! Be positive!" You've just added to the terror I'm already experiencing. You have implied (whether you meant to or not) that I'm hurting my chances of getting well because I'm very sad and very scared right now. If you really want to help me, acknowledge and validate my feelings. Feelings are not facts, so you can't argue with them; please don't try. Instead, help me express what's in my heart and on my mind. You don't need to respond to everything I say. Just listen without trying to "fix" things. I will find my way to a more "positive attitude" as I gain understanding of my disease and treatment plan and as I begin to regain control of my life. Be patient with me. I'll get there in my own time.
"Don't cry. It will all be okay." These words are almost always said because the person who is witnessing the crying is uncomfortable. If you're uncomfortable seeing me cry, then please don't come around for a while. I need to cry sometimes, and I don't need anyone telling me not to. Crying is healthy. It helps me get the bad stuff out, and that helps make room for the really good stuff like wholeness and healing.And you don't know if it will "all be okay" anymore than I do, so don't say that. In fact, don't say anything just to be saying something. If you can just sit with me and be with me and acknowledge through your silent companionship that we are mere mortals but we are in this together, that will be more comforting to me than anything you could say.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Kindergarten
I can't believe I'm having to seriously think about this. How is my little girl growing up so fast?
This week, I'm booking school tours at our top four school choices: Alki, Schmitz Park, Gatewood, and Pathfinder. I hope to learn about their educational philosophies, and try to find the school that is the best match for Tessa and our family. I take this stuff seriously -hey, I used to be a public school teacher! - and I really want to make the right decisions for Tessa. We will weigh academics, extra-curricular activities, community, philosophy, and all the rest. Tessa is a bright girl who is already showing signs of early reading, so I want to make sure that she's challenged. So much to think about!
This week, I'm booking school tours at our top four school choices: Alki, Schmitz Park, Gatewood, and Pathfinder. I hope to learn about their educational philosophies, and try to find the school that is the best match for Tessa and our family. I take this stuff seriously -hey, I used to be a public school teacher! - and I really want to make the right decisions for Tessa. We will weigh academics, extra-curricular activities, community, philosophy, and all the rest. Tessa is a bright girl who is already showing signs of early reading, so I want to make sure that she's challenged. So much to think about!
I do not recommend this diet plan
I'm not talking about Weight Watchers - that's a great plan.
I'm talking about the plan I stumbled upon yesterday. It involved eating a sandwich that might have been tainted with something (?) and then throwing up half the night. YUCK! Thankfully, I feel somewhat human again today, but that was a real drag.
The only good news? I lost two pounds yesterday "without trying." This puts me at four pounds over my goal, which is closer than I've been in some time (maybe a year....?!). I suspect that by Valentine's Day all of my clothes will, once again, fit me the way I want them to. Wahoo!
Last night's experience made me very grateful for the fabulous anti-emetics that were available to me during chemo. I absolutely loathe throwing up - I mean, nobody likes it, but I'm practically phobic about it - and last night's experience made me even more grateful that I never threw up during chemo.
I'm talking about the plan I stumbled upon yesterday. It involved eating a sandwich that might have been tainted with something (?) and then throwing up half the night. YUCK! Thankfully, I feel somewhat human again today, but that was a real drag.
The only good news? I lost two pounds yesterday "without trying." This puts me at four pounds over my goal, which is closer than I've been in some time (maybe a year....?!). I suspect that by Valentine's Day all of my clothes will, once again, fit me the way I want them to. Wahoo!
Last night's experience made me very grateful for the fabulous anti-emetics that were available to me during chemo. I absolutely loathe throwing up - I mean, nobody likes it, but I'm practically phobic about it - and last night's experience made me even more grateful that I never threw up during chemo.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Catching up
After the holiday chaos, there is so much to do.....clean out the attic, clear our closets of clothes no longer needed/desired, filing, bill paying (blech), sorting out insurance issues, planning Tessa's birthday (what on earth to get a child who has everything?!), walking the dog, exercising, planning healthy meals, refilling prescriptions, catching up on email, thank you cards...the list is endless and this is only the beginning.
Okay, deep breath. (Oh, yeah, add meditation to that list.)
I'm trying to wade through my to-do list but it's growing in leaps and bounds. And trying to do it all while mothering, and not lose my mind in the process, is particularly challenging. If anyone has good advice on this, let me know! I keep thinking "if I could just get caught up" but that is falsely reassuring....
Insight, anyone?
Okay, deep breath. (Oh, yeah, add meditation to that list.)
I'm trying to wade through my to-do list but it's growing in leaps and bounds. And trying to do it all while mothering, and not lose my mind in the process, is particularly challenging. If anyone has good advice on this, let me know! I keep thinking "if I could just get caught up" but that is falsely reassuring....
Insight, anyone?
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Happy New Year!
Well, 2008 has arrived. Happy New Year!
I look forward to a (hopefully) wonderful year. This is the year that I hope to run a half marathon and a full marathon, that I hope to do some local travel and camping with family, the year that Tessa starts kindergarten.
I hope that I can continue on my spiritual journey at WSUU and in my own readings. Thanks to Adrienne, I've discovered Pema Chodron's writing, and I feel that I'm newly a student once again, learning different ways to think about the world, my place in it, and the subject of compassion and kindness. I'm delighted to be on some kind of path again in this regard, even though I know it will be full of twists and turns.
Two years into my Weight Watchers journey, I do not have any grand goals about my weight - I'm already there! I'd like to drop a few pesky pounds (I'm a few up from where I'd like to be, but well within healthy ranges), but I do not, thankfully, have to make any major changes in that regard, just tweak what I'm already doing.
It will be a year of great change. Tessa's entrance to kindergarten will substantially alter my life as a stay at home mom, and decisions will have to be made about how much I work (or not). No decisions have been made; I have ideas, but I'm uncertain. That's okay, as I don't have to figure it out all at once, and the only thing permanent is impermanence. Even if I make the "wrong" decision in that regard, I can change.
So this new year, I'm looking forward to time with friends and family. I'm going to try to use my down-time more effectively, pursuing those things that give me joy rather than just filling time. I'm going to try to continue to care for my body, and to nurture my soul and mind. I'm going to try to be a great wife and the best mother Tessa could ask for. I'm going to take time out in nature to enjoy the snowfall, the rainbows, the waterfall, the scent of pine needles, pebbles on the beach. I'm going to read great books (and some mediocre ones). I'm going to volunteer in my community, and continue to further the cause to find a cure for breast cancer.
I haven't really said anything new here, and that's pretty satisfying to me. No major changes, just travel on life's road, attempting to accept what comes my way and to choose the right path(s).
Happy New Year!
(PS That shot of the Olympic Mountains over the Sound was taken today from the beach area in front of Mee Kwa Mooks Park in West Seattle. No wonder I love it here - a walk with Shep turned out to be a beautiful foray into nature, the sound of the waves to soothe me.)
Sunday, December 30, 2007
My lesson at church today
I continue to love attending WSUU. Not every word inspires me (would that even be possible?), but it offers me a lot of things. Sometimes, I have to think about the sermon for a week before it really hits home; sometimes, I hear something that connects with me immediately.
Today, it was an immediate connection. The sermon was about letting go and forgiveness - appropriate topics for year's end. There were several stories and readings, and one line from a meditation about forgiveness really stuck out to me:
"Forgive us the folly for trying to improve a friend."
In my marriage, in particular, I believe I'm guilty of this. Under the assumption of loving, caring, and compassion, I try to push my ideas on Ryan. Sometimes he is not receptive to these ideas, and I've been prone to thinking, "What isn't there to get? This is so obvious!" and I have felt frustrated and expressed my frustration with him. My mom was discussing this idea (not related to Ryan, but to life in general), and said "We are all at different stages of our life journey; we all have different levels of understanding. You can't expect everyone else to be at the same place in the journey that you are at the same time all the time," and I think that this line from the meditation speaks to that. I choose Ryan because I love him and he is a worthy partner, and I choose my friends for the same reasons. How foolish it is of me to push my ideas on others just because I'm at a new understanding, when I don't want others' ideas pushed on me. "Improving a friend" might mean "You should be more like me," and frankly, there's already enough of me to go around. I don't want a world full of me - I want a world full of the diverse people that I love.
The journey, to me, is like traveling the spokes of the wheel. We might be equally advanced, but in different areas (spokes). How irritating it is to be reminded that we are behind in one area, only because we're exploring another area.
Oops.
This doesn't mean that we can't all learn from another and offer one another wisdom; there is room for that, too. But when it switches from sharing my own lessons to trying to improve another person, I'm guilty and determined to learn and grow from this new understanding.
It was a great lightbulb moment for me.
This is exactly why I choose to attend services, and why I'm embracing being a UU. I am grateful for the opportunity to reflect on these ideas, and I'm grateful for being given the space to learn and grow. No judgement, no finger pointing, just room to grow. Lovely.
Today, it was an immediate connection. The sermon was about letting go and forgiveness - appropriate topics for year's end. There were several stories and readings, and one line from a meditation about forgiveness really stuck out to me:
"Forgive us the folly for trying to improve a friend."
In my marriage, in particular, I believe I'm guilty of this. Under the assumption of loving, caring, and compassion, I try to push my ideas on Ryan. Sometimes he is not receptive to these ideas, and I've been prone to thinking, "What isn't there to get? This is so obvious!" and I have felt frustrated and expressed my frustration with him. My mom was discussing this idea (not related to Ryan, but to life in general), and said "We are all at different stages of our life journey; we all have different levels of understanding. You can't expect everyone else to be at the same place in the journey that you are at the same time all the time," and I think that this line from the meditation speaks to that. I choose Ryan because I love him and he is a worthy partner, and I choose my friends for the same reasons. How foolish it is of me to push my ideas on others just because I'm at a new understanding, when I don't want others' ideas pushed on me. "Improving a friend" might mean "You should be more like me," and frankly, there's already enough of me to go around. I don't want a world full of me - I want a world full of the diverse people that I love.
The journey, to me, is like traveling the spokes of the wheel. We might be equally advanced, but in different areas (spokes). How irritating it is to be reminded that we are behind in one area, only because we're exploring another area.
Oops.
This doesn't mean that we can't all learn from another and offer one another wisdom; there is room for that, too. But when it switches from sharing my own lessons to trying to improve another person, I'm guilty and determined to learn and grow from this new understanding.
It was a great lightbulb moment for me.
This is exactly why I choose to attend services, and why I'm embracing being a UU. I am grateful for the opportunity to reflect on these ideas, and I'm grateful for being given the space to learn and grow. No judgement, no finger pointing, just room to grow. Lovely.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Packing list
- Bag of boots (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of extra clothes in case we get cold/wet (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snowshoes (big, medium, and small)
- Dog boots, leash, collar, and blanket/towel
- Backpacks stocked with tissues, lip balm, extra gloves, snacks and water (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snow clothes (coats and snow-pants, hats, scarves, fleece) (big, medium, and small)
- Sleds and blankets
Are we going on an arctic expedition? No, we are going to Snoqualmie Pass for a couple hours tomorrow morning to play in the snow and do a little snowshoeing. From the looks of our car, you'd think that we could do the North Pole!
- Bag of extra clothes in case we get cold/wet (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snowshoes (big, medium, and small)
- Dog boots, leash, collar, and blanket/towel
- Backpacks stocked with tissues, lip balm, extra gloves, snacks and water (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snow clothes (coats and snow-pants, hats, scarves, fleece) (big, medium, and small)
- Sleds and blankets
Are we going on an arctic expedition? No, we are going to Snoqualmie Pass for a couple hours tomorrow morning to play in the snow and do a little snowshoeing. From the looks of our car, you'd think that we could do the North Pole!
Thank you cards
For a couple of years (since diagnosis?) I have been incredibly remiss in sending out thank you cards.
I used to pride myself on sending them with regularity and punctuality. I have been the fortunate recipient of much generousity and thoughtfulness in my life, and it seemed a small thing to me to write a small note to acknowledge others' gifts to me. Of course it's good manners to send such notes, but my heart was really in writing them, too, because it was a way for me to feel gratitude and share my heart with the givers. Really, a win-win all around.
Then cancer came, and I just became utterly overwhelmed by so many things. This is my reason, but not an excuse. Many other cancer patients manage to keep up with their thank yous, but I did not. I can't exactly explain it, but I just didn't have anything to give. I was just tired by life, and sometimes the smallest of tasks seemed insurmountable. Perhaps this was an early sign of my depression, as thank you cards were not the only thing that slipped.
But I digress.
This Christmas, like every other year, I was the fortunate recipient of gifts of love and thoughtfulness. I have vowed to acknowledge them in writing. I know how fortunate I am to have such faithful friends and family members in my life, and I WANT to acknowledge them.
I can't go back to write all of the thank yous that I have missed over the past couple of years - the task feels impossible and doomed to failure, despite my good intentions. But I can start fresh, and vow not to miss another opportunity to thank those people in my life who share their kindnesses with me.
Check your mail soon. I appreciate you, and I send my love.
I used to pride myself on sending them with regularity and punctuality. I have been the fortunate recipient of much generousity and thoughtfulness in my life, and it seemed a small thing to me to write a small note to acknowledge others' gifts to me. Of course it's good manners to send such notes, but my heart was really in writing them, too, because it was a way for me to feel gratitude and share my heart with the givers. Really, a win-win all around.
Then cancer came, and I just became utterly overwhelmed by so many things. This is my reason, but not an excuse. Many other cancer patients manage to keep up with their thank yous, but I did not. I can't exactly explain it, but I just didn't have anything to give. I was just tired by life, and sometimes the smallest of tasks seemed insurmountable. Perhaps this was an early sign of my depression, as thank you cards were not the only thing that slipped.
But I digress.
This Christmas, like every other year, I was the fortunate recipient of gifts of love and thoughtfulness. I have vowed to acknowledge them in writing. I know how fortunate I am to have such faithful friends and family members in my life, and I WANT to acknowledge them.
I can't go back to write all of the thank yous that I have missed over the past couple of years - the task feels impossible and doomed to failure, despite my good intentions. But I can start fresh, and vow not to miss another opportunity to thank those people in my life who share their kindnesses with me.
Check your mail soon. I appreciate you, and I send my love.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas!
A quick note in the middle of this Christmas Day.
We are having a wonderful family Christmas together, and many Christmas wishes were granted (bike stuff for Ryan, cashmere for me, a swingset for Tessa) and we've been enjoying a lazy morning. Of course, there's the excitement of the tipped over Christmas tree (hey, it looks like the tree's at an angle...we should fix that....crash!) but that just adds to the fun. (Ryan's vacuuming up needles now.)
Later today, my parents, grandma, and brother plus family will come here to have Christmas dinner with us.
The best part of the day so far is watching Tessa unwrap her gifts, while we sip coffee and eat twice baked almond croissants from Bakery Nouveau. Today isn't a day to count calories, and I'm not. (I just hope I can fit into my workout clothes after today.) Christmas music playing, a roast waiting to go into the oven, the smell of pine needles and coffee wafting through the house, and a plate of cookies just waiting for us. The cousins' presents are under the tree, and Tessa can't wait to play on the swingset with Caleb and Joshua. Four generations will sit around our table, and that has a magic of its own, too.
I want to give my daughter a fantasy childhood, filled with laughter, traditions, and fun times together. Today, it feels like we're doing a good job of that, and I am filled with contentment.
Love, joy and peace to you all. Merry Christmas!
We are having a wonderful family Christmas together, and many Christmas wishes were granted (bike stuff for Ryan, cashmere for me, a swingset for Tessa) and we've been enjoying a lazy morning. Of course, there's the excitement of the tipped over Christmas tree (hey, it looks like the tree's at an angle...we should fix that....crash!) but that just adds to the fun. (Ryan's vacuuming up needles now.)
Later today, my parents, grandma, and brother plus family will come here to have Christmas dinner with us.
The best part of the day so far is watching Tessa unwrap her gifts, while we sip coffee and eat twice baked almond croissants from Bakery Nouveau. Today isn't a day to count calories, and I'm not. (I just hope I can fit into my workout clothes after today.) Christmas music playing, a roast waiting to go into the oven, the smell of pine needles and coffee wafting through the house, and a plate of cookies just waiting for us. The cousins' presents are under the tree, and Tessa can't wait to play on the swingset with Caleb and Joshua. Four generations will sit around our table, and that has a magic of its own, too.
I want to give my daughter a fantasy childhood, filled with laughter, traditions, and fun times together. Today, it feels like we're doing a good job of that, and I am filled with contentment.
Love, joy and peace to you all. Merry Christmas!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Christmas Crab Bisque
A friend asked me to send her the recipe, and since I typed it up, I thought I'd share. It's a huge hit around here, and we serve it as our opening course for Christmas dinner. I can't wait!
Crab bisque is a huge hit around here. I couldn't find a recipe I liked so I took four recipes I found online and combined them. Here's what I do:
----------------------
Crab Bisque - Serves 10-12
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
4 celery ribs,chopped
3/4 cup flour
1 cup dry white wine
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups half and half
2 pounds crab meat
handful fresh parsley
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
salt and pepper to taste
Melt butter in a large soup pot on medium to medium high, add onion and celery, and cook until soft. Add flour and cook for a full minute. Slowly add wine, broth and half and half, stirring constantly to mix in flour and keep smooth, and simmer for a half hour.
If desired, you can complete this step in advance, and finish the dish just before the meal (which is what I do, so that I can enjoy the day instead of cooking all day).
Heat the broth/onion mixture through, and then add herbs, seasoning, and crab, and heat through and serve.
If desired, reserve some of the crab meat and use for garnish.
--------------------
I love dungeoness crab, but since it's about $25/pound I usually use part lump canned crab meat (Costco and Trader Joe's both sell it at reasonable prices, about $10/pound) and then do the rest with fresh dungeoness crab, garnishing each dish with a sprig of thyme and a piece of dungeoness leg meat. Many recipes call for less crab, but our family LOVES crab and so I make it "crab-heavy" as a special occassion dish.
Other recipes call for cutting up some potatoes and adding them, or using dry sherry instead of wine, or omitting the wine/sherry and using extra broth. Sometimes I add a clove or two of crushed garlic to the onion mixture, as well.
The recipe can be played with - the amounts of onion, celery, parsly, etc. are all pretty negotiable. Some of the recipes I found call for 2 tablespoons of onion, and some call for much much more. These are the quantities that have worked best for me.
Crab bisque is a huge hit around here. I couldn't find a recipe I liked so I took four recipes I found online and combined them. Here's what I do:
----------------------
Crab Bisque - Serves 10-12
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
4 celery ribs,chopped
3/4 cup flour
1 cup dry white wine
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups half and half
2 pounds crab meat
handful fresh parsley
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
salt and pepper to taste
Melt butter in a large soup pot on medium to medium high, add onion and celery, and cook until soft. Add flour and cook for a full minute. Slowly add wine, broth and half and half, stirring constantly to mix in flour and keep smooth, and simmer for a half hour.
If desired, you can complete this step in advance, and finish the dish just before the meal (which is what I do, so that I can enjoy the day instead of cooking all day).
Heat the broth/onion mixture through, and then add herbs, seasoning, and crab, and heat through and serve.
If desired, reserve some of the crab meat and use for garnish.
--------------------
I love dungeoness crab, but since it's about $25/pound I usually use part lump canned crab meat (Costco and Trader Joe's both sell it at reasonable prices, about $10/pound) and then do the rest with fresh dungeoness crab, garnishing each dish with a sprig of thyme and a piece of dungeoness leg meat. Many recipes call for less crab, but our family LOVES crab and so I make it "crab-heavy" as a special occassion dish.
Other recipes call for cutting up some potatoes and adding them, or using dry sherry instead of wine, or omitting the wine/sherry and using extra broth. Sometimes I add a clove or two of crushed garlic to the onion mixture, as well.
The recipe can be played with - the amounts of onion, celery, parsly, etc. are all pretty negotiable. Some of the recipes I found call for 2 tablespoons of onion, and some call for much much more. These are the quantities that have worked best for me.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Telling little kids about cancer
I keep meaning to put together a brief set of blog entries for newly diagnosed women; short summaries of some of the top questions or concerns or areas of interest. Well, today someone on the YSC boards asked a question about how to tell her small children about her diagnosis, and this is what I replied. In case anyone out there in internet-land is searching on information about telling children about cancer, I thought I'd share my experiences here.
(This is a repeat of information found in a variety of earlier blog entries, probably not relevant to my friends and family at this time.)
The book "Sammy's Mommy Has Cancer" was INCREDIBLY helpful to me; it doesn't discuss mastectomy directly but it talks about chemo, baldness, surgery, fatigue, etc. It's available on Amazon and in other bookstores. My daughter asked us to read it to her every day for months, because it helped her to understand.
I was very straightforward with our daughter, who was 2.5 at the time but highly verbal. We used the words "breast cancer" and explained that our bodies are made of cells that work together to make us strong, but the cells in Mama's breast had turned to bad cells that made me sick. We explained that the doctor would cut out the cancer and give me strong medicine to make me well, but that the medicine would make me tired and bald. We were very careful to explain that this was unusual, and not something that little kids could get. We made sure that she understood it was not like getting a cold or a fever or a sore throat, so she didn't need to worry about herself. (I know kids get cancer, though not breast cancer, but the idea was to help her to not worry if she got a sniffly nose that next they'd cut her breasts off.)
I never quite explained that they would be removing my breast along with the cancer...I meant to but never figured out how (eventually, both breasts, but initially, just one). My daughter walked in (barged in!) to the bathroom when I was just a few days post-op and I was coming out of the shower, and exclaimed "Mommy has only one nipple!" As calmly as I could, I said, "Yes, the doctors had to take off Mama's breast to make sure they got all of the cancer." Because I knew that I was going to get reconstruction, I said, "It's okay with me because I'm glad the cancer is gone. And one day, the doctors are going to build me a new breast!" That became my daughter's understanding: this was temporary, and I'd get new breasts. She seemed pretty okay with it.
I talked to the psycho-onc and read books about what to share with her, and what was recommended to me was to be as straight-forward as possible without overdoing it. (We've never talked about mortality issues, and won't unless something changes.) I also learned that children's number one fear is that they are not being told the whole truth or that they are being lied to, and so I was encouraged to be as open as possible. This worked for us, because it's how we do most things, not just big stuff like cancer. My daughter was not thrilled to have cancer in the family, but I don't think it terrified her, either.
Everything I read said to tell the child that it is NOT their fault. This seems obvious (of course it's not their fault!) but children make some strange leaps of logic, and many children have been known to say "If only I didn't bug Mom so much she wouldn't have gotten sick" or "If I was good she'd get better" etc. You want to nip that in the bud right away and state up front that it's nobody's fault.
I also told my daughter that she was the person who could help me to feel better. Her smiles make me happy; reading stories to her makes me happy; playing games with her makes me happy. When I was really sick it made me happy when she made things (cards, bead necklaces, simple things) for me. I tried to let her know that it was her job to just be a kid, and that just having her around made me happy. The idea was to give her some power in the situation to make HERSELF feel better, rather than just be a powerless bystander.
At age almost 5, my daughter knows about chemo, radiation, Herceptin, reconstruction, mastectomy, etc. This is part of her childhood, and that saddens me....but it's also the reality. Some kids deal with divorce, poverty, and other losses, and my daughter has had to deal with cancer. It's part of her normal, now.
Our way might not be right for everyone, but it's been great for us. I'm delighted to say that my daughter is pretty well adjusted - a happy, smiling kid who loves to play on the monkey bars, is learning to read, and begs for playdates fifty times a day. She's also capable of throwing an impressive tantrum, or whining when she doesn't get her way. In short, she's pretty normal, despite the abnormal features of her childhood.
I hope you get something out of this book that helps you. I'm pretty passionate about the subject, as all of my deepest fears about cancer are about its impact on my daughter. I hope I've given you something positive to give you hope that your kids will be okay, too.
(This is a repeat of information found in a variety of earlier blog entries, probably not relevant to my friends and family at this time.)
The book "Sammy's Mommy Has Cancer" was INCREDIBLY helpful to me; it doesn't discuss mastectomy directly but it talks about chemo, baldness, surgery, fatigue, etc. It's available on Amazon and in other bookstores. My daughter asked us to read it to her every day for months, because it helped her to understand.
I was very straightforward with our daughter, who was 2.5 at the time but highly verbal. We used the words "breast cancer" and explained that our bodies are made of cells that work together to make us strong, but the cells in Mama's breast had turned to bad cells that made me sick. We explained that the doctor would cut out the cancer and give me strong medicine to make me well, but that the medicine would make me tired and bald. We were very careful to explain that this was unusual, and not something that little kids could get. We made sure that she understood it was not like getting a cold or a fever or a sore throat, so she didn't need to worry about herself. (I know kids get cancer, though not breast cancer, but the idea was to help her to not worry if she got a sniffly nose that next they'd cut her breasts off.)
I never quite explained that they would be removing my breast along with the cancer...I meant to but never figured out how (eventually, both breasts, but initially, just one). My daughter walked in (barged in!) to the bathroom when I was just a few days post-op and I was coming out of the shower, and exclaimed "Mommy has only one nipple!" As calmly as I could, I said, "Yes, the doctors had to take off Mama's breast to make sure they got all of the cancer." Because I knew that I was going to get reconstruction, I said, "It's okay with me because I'm glad the cancer is gone. And one day, the doctors are going to build me a new breast!" That became my daughter's understanding: this was temporary, and I'd get new breasts. She seemed pretty okay with it.
I talked to the psycho-onc and read books about what to share with her, and what was recommended to me was to be as straight-forward as possible without overdoing it. (We've never talked about mortality issues, and won't unless something changes.) I also learned that children's number one fear is that they are not being told the whole truth or that they are being lied to, and so I was encouraged to be as open as possible. This worked for us, because it's how we do most things, not just big stuff like cancer. My daughter was not thrilled to have cancer in the family, but I don't think it terrified her, either.
Everything I read said to tell the child that it is NOT their fault. This seems obvious (of course it's not their fault!) but children make some strange leaps of logic, and many children have been known to say "If only I didn't bug Mom so much she wouldn't have gotten sick" or "If I was good she'd get better" etc. You want to nip that in the bud right away and state up front that it's nobody's fault.
I also told my daughter that she was the person who could help me to feel better. Her smiles make me happy; reading stories to her makes me happy; playing games with her makes me happy. When I was really sick it made me happy when she made things (cards, bead necklaces, simple things) for me. I tried to let her know that it was her job to just be a kid, and that just having her around made me happy. The idea was to give her some power in the situation to make HERSELF feel better, rather than just be a powerless bystander.
At age almost 5, my daughter knows about chemo, radiation, Herceptin, reconstruction, mastectomy, etc. This is part of her childhood, and that saddens me....but it's also the reality. Some kids deal with divorce, poverty, and other losses, and my daughter has had to deal with cancer. It's part of her normal, now.
Our way might not be right for everyone, but it's been great for us. I'm delighted to say that my daughter is pretty well adjusted - a happy, smiling kid who loves to play on the monkey bars, is learning to read, and begs for playdates fifty times a day. She's also capable of throwing an impressive tantrum, or whining when she doesn't get her way. In short, she's pretty normal, despite the abnormal features of her childhood.
I hope you get something out of this book that helps you. I'm pretty passionate about the subject, as all of my deepest fears about cancer are about its impact on my daughter. I hope I've given you something positive to give you hope that your kids will be okay, too.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Yikes
Well, interesting times.
Today Tessa is recovering, but not at all her normal self. The fever is gone, but she's still tired and low energy, eating much less than usual. She's on the mend, but she's not mended.
And then there's Shep. I stopped in at Marisa's party this afternoon, and when I got home, Shep looked normal when he came out to greet me. Twenty minutes later Ryan said, "What's wrong with Shep's eyes?" and when I looked, they were nearly swollen shut. As we debated what could be causing the problem, I practically watched his jaw swell up.
$156 later (well, it could definitely be worse) the vet (the one that's open all night closest to us is in Burien - of course this happens on a Sunday night!) has declared that Shep probably ate some thing and had an allergic reaction. Since he had strewn garbage from the office garbage can, we suspect it might have been a candy wrapper with chocolate residue. We'll never know what caused it, but an injection of Benedryl and steroids seems to have reversed some of the swelling. We'll watch him tonight and take him to our regular vet tomorrow if he isn't fully improved.
Really, there are other things I'd planned this weekend....yikes!
Today Tessa is recovering, but not at all her normal self. The fever is gone, but she's still tired and low energy, eating much less than usual. She's on the mend, but she's not mended.
And then there's Shep. I stopped in at Marisa's party this afternoon, and when I got home, Shep looked normal when he came out to greet me. Twenty minutes later Ryan said, "What's wrong with Shep's eyes?" and when I looked, they were nearly swollen shut. As we debated what could be causing the problem, I practically watched his jaw swell up.
$156 later (well, it could definitely be worse) the vet (the one that's open all night closest to us is in Burien - of course this happens on a Sunday night!) has declared that Shep probably ate some thing and had an allergic reaction. Since he had strewn garbage from the office garbage can, we suspect it might have been a candy wrapper with chocolate residue. We'll never know what caused it, but an injection of Benedryl and steroids seems to have reversed some of the swelling. We'll watch him tonight and take him to our regular vet tomorrow if he isn't fully improved.
Really, there are other things I'd planned this weekend....yikes!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Change of plans
Well, this is how it goes some days.
Tessa woke up this morning with a fever (103.2), and so this weekend will be spent laying low. Ryan and I are taking turns with her and going out one at a time(I went to the C&P Arts and Crafts fair and got a fabulous gift for my mom's birthday - hurrah!). The bummer, though, is that tomorrow was to be her blessing, and now we can't go. Wahhh.
Seeing our girl laid low breaks my heart. She just sleeps and watches TV; she's very snuggly (which is nice) but she's got absolutely no energy. I hope this illness passes very, very quickly.
Tessa woke up this morning with a fever (103.2), and so this weekend will be spent laying low. Ryan and I are taking turns with her and going out one at a time(I went to the C&P Arts and Crafts fair and got a fabulous gift for my mom's birthday - hurrah!). The bummer, though, is that tomorrow was to be her blessing, and now we can't go. Wahhh.
Seeing our girl laid low breaks my heart. She just sleeps and watches TV; she's very snuggly (which is nice) but she's got absolutely no energy. I hope this illness passes very, very quickly.
Friday, December 14, 2007
The Christmas Card Photo
Okay, so here it is. A darling picture of a family enjoy themselves....
or is it just a picture of my butt?! ACK!
I hope you get a good laugh out of it. It IS one of my favorite photos, because I remember the moment so clearly, but after I chose it I started to wonder if I was insane to send a picture of my rear end to many people I know.
Well, it is what it is. Happy holidays!
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