It's very important to us that Cha grow up to be a wonderfully accepting, compassionate, and open minded woman. Since she was very young we talked to her about diversity and how people are free to love whomever their hearts tells them they love. We say that anyone can be together, as long as they love and care about each other, and no one is getting hurt. Boys can love boys, girls can love girls, and they can love each other.
One day I heard her talking with a friend. The girl had called a classmate gay and Cha said, 'It's okay to be gay, as long as he's happy.' Right on, baby.
But it seems that I've been concentrating too much on the same sex coupling side of diversity. The other night she asked me:
'Mom, is it okay for a white person to marry a Chinese person?'
We've never really discussed race, which I guess is a good thing since it shows her that it's not really an issue. I told her that yes, it's totally fine for different races to marry, providing they follow the golden rule - they have to love and care for each other, and not out to hurt anyone.
She said:
'Oh, okay.'
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
journaling for the future
I started a journal for Cha before she was born. I'd write all the typical pregnancy details, telling her how much she was loved and wanted and then wrote out her birth story and her first few days of life. The journal includes ramblings on different topics I want her to know, and the 'real story' of things that are happening in her child hood. Such as, the real reason she's not allowed in a neighbor kid's house (because there are some drug issues and police involvement).
Such is the case for many new moms, I wrote in it pretty regularly for a while. And then I stopped. In my mind I didn't realize that I had stopped tho. Every night when I lay with her, putting her to bed, I write out in my mind journal entries. I draft them in my head with the intention of getting up once she fell asleep and put them down on paper. But then I'd fall asleep.
The other night I actually managed to stay awake and after she was out I got up and grabbed the book. I crept downstairs and sat on the couch to get caught up on my writing. I still can't believe what I saw.
The last entry in the book was September 29, 2006. The day of her first birthday. How is it possible that I haven't written anything in six years?! What was most disappointing was that I began the journal entry with how I was excited to celebrate her first birthday with.....
Then I stopped mid sentence. Ugh. I remember her first birthday clearly, tho I couldn't tell all the details. The food, the presents, her milestones. They are a faded memory. Not that it's necessarily important for her to know these things, but I actually enjoyed reading all the details up til that point. I had forgotten a bit of what was written, to be honest.
Such as this....when Cha was three weeks old we drove out west to introduce her to my parents and the rest of the family. I was a very nervous and unsure new mom and I was having a hard time with breastfeeding and pumping and making sure I wasn't breaking her. We were driving in Ohio and Cha had a massive blow out so we pulled over so I could change her. The blow out was so horrific that it was up her shirt, both front and back. The smell was almost blinding. I was not the most calm or graceful new mother so changing a mess of a diaper in the back seat of the car (did I mention it was 2 in the morning??) had me frazzled. Since I was a new mom and lacked experience I failed to pack a plastic bag to dispose of dirty diapers. There was no way I was going to keep that stink in the car so I threw it over my shoulder, onto the side of the side on the Ohio Turnpike. And that's when the state patrol pulled up and shined his light on me. I thought for sure he was going to arrest me for littering, or at least force me to go pick up the diaper. He got out of his car and started walking up to me. I cried out that my daughter had gotten sick and I had to change her clothes. He stopped dead in his tracks and thankfully kept his distance. He kept the spot light on me and waited for us to finish and drive off before he moved.
I tell this story to Cha every time we drive out west. She actually tells the story now and points out where it happened (she claims to remember the spot). Only it didn't happen in Ohio, it was Indiana, so says the journal. Thankfully the rest of it is correct.
So the other night I forced myself to stay up late and fill the journal in with the highlights of the last six years. I only got four years updated and skipped most of the details, which is sad because as they say the beauty is in the details.
Two days ago was the third anniversary of my brother's death. As expected, it hit me hard. I talked to Cha about him and I recounted some of my favorite memories. We talked about the drive out to my parent's house after he died and all the details surrounding that trip (including her calling the St. Louis Arch the castle where her brother lives). She asked how Uncle Keith died and I told her he was very sick and his body just broke down. That's enough to hold off a seven year old. In the journal however I wrote more detailed information regarding mental illness, depression and suicide. I'm hoping the 20 year old girl I imagine her to be when she reads this book will appreciate the honesty and agree that seven is a bit to young for such heavy topics. I also want her to know how powerfully strong her grandmother was, and understand how her death hit me so hard.
I'm looking forward to the day when she's old enough for adult conversations.
Such is the case for many new moms, I wrote in it pretty regularly for a while. And then I stopped. In my mind I didn't realize that I had stopped tho. Every night when I lay with her, putting her to bed, I write out in my mind journal entries. I draft them in my head with the intention of getting up once she fell asleep and put them down on paper. But then I'd fall asleep.
The other night I actually managed to stay awake and after she was out I got up and grabbed the book. I crept downstairs and sat on the couch to get caught up on my writing. I still can't believe what I saw.
The last entry in the book was September 29, 2006. The day of her first birthday. How is it possible that I haven't written anything in six years?! What was most disappointing was that I began the journal entry with how I was excited to celebrate her first birthday with.....
Then I stopped mid sentence. Ugh. I remember her first birthday clearly, tho I couldn't tell all the details. The food, the presents, her milestones. They are a faded memory. Not that it's necessarily important for her to know these things, but I actually enjoyed reading all the details up til that point. I had forgotten a bit of what was written, to be honest.
Such as this....when Cha was three weeks old we drove out west to introduce her to my parents and the rest of the family. I was a very nervous and unsure new mom and I was having a hard time with breastfeeding and pumping and making sure I wasn't breaking her. We were driving in Ohio and Cha had a massive blow out so we pulled over so I could change her. The blow out was so horrific that it was up her shirt, both front and back. The smell was almost blinding. I was not the most calm or graceful new mother so changing a mess of a diaper in the back seat of the car (did I mention it was 2 in the morning??) had me frazzled. Since I was a new mom and lacked experience I failed to pack a plastic bag to dispose of dirty diapers. There was no way I was going to keep that stink in the car so I threw it over my shoulder, onto the side of the side on the Ohio Turnpike. And that's when the state patrol pulled up and shined his light on me. I thought for sure he was going to arrest me for littering, or at least force me to go pick up the diaper. He got out of his car and started walking up to me. I cried out that my daughter had gotten sick and I had to change her clothes. He stopped dead in his tracks and thankfully kept his distance. He kept the spot light on me and waited for us to finish and drive off before he moved.
I tell this story to Cha every time we drive out west. She actually tells the story now and points out where it happened (she claims to remember the spot). Only it didn't happen in Ohio, it was Indiana, so says the journal. Thankfully the rest of it is correct.
So the other night I forced myself to stay up late and fill the journal in with the highlights of the last six years. I only got four years updated and skipped most of the details, which is sad because as they say the beauty is in the details.
Two days ago was the third anniversary of my brother's death. As expected, it hit me hard. I talked to Cha about him and I recounted some of my favorite memories. We talked about the drive out to my parent's house after he died and all the details surrounding that trip (including her calling the St. Louis Arch the castle where her brother lives). She asked how Uncle Keith died and I told her he was very sick and his body just broke down. That's enough to hold off a seven year old. In the journal however I wrote more detailed information regarding mental illness, depression and suicide. I'm hoping the 20 year old girl I imagine her to be when she reads this book will appreciate the honesty and agree that seven is a bit to young for such heavy topics. I also want her to know how powerfully strong her grandmother was, and understand how her death hit me so hard.
I'm looking forward to the day when she's old enough for adult conversations.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
getting there
This has been my 2012.
I am really looking forward to 2013. I'm excited to start a fresh new year.
I am really looking forward to 2013. I'm excited to start a fresh new year.
Friday, October 26, 2012
forty five
As much as I enjoy my daughter being seven, I am loving me being forty five. I've heard people say that as you get older you don't give a crap about things anymore. Age gives you the ability to say and do what you want, freely. I don't agree.
I will say that being 45 (much more than 44, 43, or even 40) has given me a buffer to not necessarily care how others feel about me. I am still sensitive to others and even more careful about how I behave, but my skin has grown thick. Snarky remarks or rude and sarcastic comments used to crush me. Now I have the ability to throw up my hands and say 'Oh well!'. That is something I could never do before my 45th birthday. It feels good.
I have watched many relationships slide away during the past five years. Some went quietly and naturally and others left with a loud boom. There are times past that I will cherish forever but everything happens for a reason and at the moment I am exactly where I am supposed to be and with who I am supposed to be with.
However, I do wish my body hadn't hit the wall and started breaking down. I feel like I'm aging on a fast track.
I will say that being 45 (much more than 44, 43, or even 40) has given me a buffer to not necessarily care how others feel about me. I am still sensitive to others and even more careful about how I behave, but my skin has grown thick. Snarky remarks or rude and sarcastic comments used to crush me. Now I have the ability to throw up my hands and say 'Oh well!'. That is something I could never do before my 45th birthday. It feels good.
I have watched many relationships slide away during the past five years. Some went quietly and naturally and others left with a loud boom. There are times past that I will cherish forever but everything happens for a reason and at the moment I am exactly where I am supposed to be and with who I am supposed to be with.
However, I do wish my body hadn't hit the wall and started breaking down. I feel like I'm aging on a fast track.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
seven
My darling girl is seven.
The other night at bedtime she read a book to me. I smiled at how well she read thinking back to when she was 3 and 4 and would cry because she couldn't read on her own.
We put the book down and I turned off the light. She rolled over and nuzzled me and then started chatting.
Cha: Mom, do you like to be called Mama or Mommy ?
Me: I like to be called whatever you feel like calling me.
Me: What do you like me to call you?
Cha: I like it when you call me Char or Baby Bear but I'd really like it if you called me Sunshine Bear because it reminds me of you singing You are My Sunshine every night and it makes me feel loved.
My sweet, little, innocent girl. At times she can be so challenging but she has the most amazing heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday night we went to our town's Halloween parade. She and I went alone while Matt stayed home studying. Driving around trying to find a parking space was tough. Especially since I forgot my glasses. I've got a bit of night blindness going on and some of our streets are barely lit. I asked Cha to help me look, since my glasses were at home. We eventually found a good spot and had fun at the parade.
Yesterday she had her 7 year well check. The first thing she said when we got in the car was 'Do you have your glasses?' I love how she knows me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are having some issues with friends, or rather who should be considered friends. There are a group of girls who are not nice to her. She's become a target of sorts and it's super difficult to witness, much less experience. I've made calls to all the proper people but what it comes down to is that there are some not nice people in the world. There are people who are rude and mean, who want nothing more than to make you cry or feel uncomfortable about yourself. Those people can be nice and friendly and then suddenly strike out with unkind words leaving you to feel awful about yourself. Those people are not friends. They may invite you to play but that doesn't mean they have good intentions.
So my baby girl is learning about being the better person. About being polite and civil and being friendly to all. She is learning that people may not like you but that's okay. Not everyone has to like you and you don't have to like everyone.
She has wonderful friends both in and outside of school. She had a lovely birthday celebration with two of her BFFs from class. They went to a movie, then shopping and finally stopped for some frozen yogurt. There was lots of laughter and smiles and fun girl chatter. That, my dear Sunshine Bear, is what friendship is all about.
The other night at bedtime she read a book to me. I smiled at how well she read thinking back to when she was 3 and 4 and would cry because she couldn't read on her own.
We put the book down and I turned off the light. She rolled over and nuzzled me and then started chatting.
Cha: Mom, do you like to be called Mama or Mommy ?
Me: I like to be called whatever you feel like calling me.
Me: What do you like me to call you?
Cha: I like it when you call me Char or Baby Bear but I'd really like it if you called me Sunshine Bear because it reminds me of you singing You are My Sunshine every night and it makes me feel loved.
My sweet, little, innocent girl. At times she can be so challenging but she has the most amazing heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday night we went to our town's Halloween parade. She and I went alone while Matt stayed home studying. Driving around trying to find a parking space was tough. Especially since I forgot my glasses. I've got a bit of night blindness going on and some of our streets are barely lit. I asked Cha to help me look, since my glasses were at home. We eventually found a good spot and had fun at the parade.
Yesterday she had her 7 year well check. The first thing she said when we got in the car was 'Do you have your glasses?' I love how she knows me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are having some issues with friends, or rather who should be considered friends. There are a group of girls who are not nice to her. She's become a target of sorts and it's super difficult to witness, much less experience. I've made calls to all the proper people but what it comes down to is that there are some not nice people in the world. There are people who are rude and mean, who want nothing more than to make you cry or feel uncomfortable about yourself. Those people can be nice and friendly and then suddenly strike out with unkind words leaving you to feel awful about yourself. Those people are not friends. They may invite you to play but that doesn't mean they have good intentions.
So my baby girl is learning about being the better person. About being polite and civil and being friendly to all. She is learning that people may not like you but that's okay. Not everyone has to like you and you don't have to like everyone.
She has wonderful friends both in and outside of school. She had a lovely birthday celebration with two of her BFFs from class. They went to a movie, then shopping and finally stopped for some frozen yogurt. There was lots of laughter and smiles and fun girl chatter. That, my dear Sunshine Bear, is what friendship is all about.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
biopsy okay
Got the results from the biopsy and there is no sign of cancer or pre-cancer but I still need surgery to remove some 'stuff'. There's a chance they may find something alarming but I'm sure they won't. I'm scheduled for the end of September so I guess I'm in a holding pattern until then.
In the meantime I am down, down, down. It's coming up on the 2nd anniversary of my mother's passing and My God does that hurt. I miss her so much.
I have lost many people in my life - grandparents, aunts, uncles, a brother, cousins, friends, neighbors, co-workers - and understandably my mother's death has hit me the hardest. But this loss feels so unnatural. Someone is in your life and then they're gone. I know I carry her in my heart, but she is still gone. Disappeared, and it feels very wrong.
There are days when I feel like I'm still in shock. Days where I re-live every moment of the weeks following her death. There are pictures of her all over the house and I look at her urn every morning. I am so thankful that I have that little piece of her, literally. It's physical proof that she existed. I think I just may have gone mad if I didn't have some of her remains.
Anyway, that's where I am.
In the meantime I am down, down, down. It's coming up on the 2nd anniversary of my mother's passing and My God does that hurt. I miss her so much.
I have lost many people in my life - grandparents, aunts, uncles, a brother, cousins, friends, neighbors, co-workers - and understandably my mother's death has hit me the hardest. But this loss feels so unnatural. Someone is in your life and then they're gone. I know I carry her in my heart, but she is still gone. Disappeared, and it feels very wrong.
There are days when I feel like I'm still in shock. Days where I re-live every moment of the weeks following her death. There are pictures of her all over the house and I look at her urn every morning. I am so thankful that I have that little piece of her, literally. It's physical proof that she existed. I think I just may have gone mad if I didn't have some of her remains.
Anyway, that's where I am.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
five years
This time five years ago I was fretting. You see, I was in total denial about breast cancer believing absolutely that I would get it. Since my early 20s or maybe even before I had a fear that I'd get breast cancer. I had my first mammogram at 30 and held on to the 'all clear' letter for many years. After Cha was born I had another and there was a little something but I was breastfeeding so they thought maybe that was it. When I went back the following year they found something a little 'iffy' and they told me to come back in six months for another look. That six months was February 2007. But I didn't/wouldn't/couldn't think about it. I swallowed the thought in hopes that it would just go away but it didn't. It was on my mind constantly yet I was too paralyzed with fear to do anything about it.
Until November 2007 when I had a near breakdown and finally called to make the appointment. I still had the script from my doctor, which was another daily reminder folded up in my wallet. The days leading up to that call and the hours waiting for the appointment were hell. One panic attack after another and many tears. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that months after the diagnosis I felt a bit of relief that I could finally stop worrying about getting breast cancer. The rest is blog history.
And now here we are, very aware that that the big five year anniversary is right around the corner. I've been dreaming up fun ways to celebrate the day with Matt, Cha and I because really it's a big day for them as well. But first there's a bit of a bump.
I am once again waiting for biopsy results. This time in my lady parts. Something has been going on there for a while. But instead of swallowing the fear I've been keeping my doctor in the loop. You see, the breast cancer that was a constant worry for decades did not kill me. I had it, I survived it, and I moved on.
I'm not panicking about the results. In my heart I'm thinking it's going to turn out all clear. It could be my survivor status, five years of growth and experience, woman's intuition or maybe just the Zoloft but I know I'm going to be fine.
I'll keep you posted.
Until November 2007 when I had a near breakdown and finally called to make the appointment. I still had the script from my doctor, which was another daily reminder folded up in my wallet. The days leading up to that call and the hours waiting for the appointment were hell. One panic attack after another and many tears. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that months after the diagnosis I felt a bit of relief that I could finally stop worrying about getting breast cancer. The rest is blog history.
And now here we are, very aware that that the big five year anniversary is right around the corner. I've been dreaming up fun ways to celebrate the day with Matt, Cha and I because really it's a big day for them as well. But first there's a bit of a bump.
I am once again waiting for biopsy results. This time in my lady parts. Something has been going on there for a while. But instead of swallowing the fear I've been keeping my doctor in the loop. You see, the breast cancer that was a constant worry for decades did not kill me. I had it, I survived it, and I moved on.
I'm not panicking about the results. In my heart I'm thinking it's going to turn out all clear. It could be my survivor status, five years of growth and experience, woman's intuition or maybe just the Zoloft but I know I'm going to be fine.
I'll keep you posted.
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