Valentine From Mom

It's been a little bit of a tough winter for me. Some of you know, but I lost my mom last fall. She had a terminal cancer so we expected death, but not like that. The year before her death, she was in and out of the hospital several times then had a stroke in August. A month later she passed away from an unknown reason.

I knew she would die. I knew she would die sooner rather than later. Given all of her illness that last year, I suspected we would loose her sooner than anticipated. The night before she passed though, I had her out to dinner and had a lovely night with her. I would not guess that by 2:00 the next day she would be dead. That was the difficult part.

My birthday passed, then the holidays and finally her birthday. It likely did not help that we had little to no sun in January either. I thought I did well, but still felt her loss deeply.

I can't be the only person who has lost a parent, that talks to that parent. In fact, in mentioning that, I found out that most people talk to their deceased parent. I talk to her mainly when it is quiet, and when I am alone. Like when I talk a walk at night or when driving alone in the car. 

In the last couple days though, there have been several times where I just wanted to pick up the phone and talk to mom. I wanted to share a little story about my daughter or share my son's latest accomplishment.

So this weekend when I had to go to Port Huron for Boy Scouts, I went to where her childhood house on the river used to be. My grandpa was the commercial fisherman/bait guy where the Port Huron Coast Guard station now sits. There is a small park there, across the street from my great-grandma's house, so I walked for a bit to talk to her. I walked and told her everything.

 I still had several hours to kill before getting my son and his friends, so I went in search of rocks. Thanks to my grandfather, I am a rock-hound. Much to the dismay of my husband and children, I can easily spend hours siting and sifting through rocks on the beach. Taking the opportunity to walk along the beach, without anyone else sounded divine.

I stopped at three beaches between Port Huron and Fort Gratiot. The first one is across the street of my childhood home, and the other two were ones I have visited many times when I was a child. There was still a small ice shelf on the beach, but the sun was peeking from behind the clouds and there was little wind, making it a nice winter day.

I know what to expect in searching those beaches. Horn coral, small petosky stones, chain coral, favosite fragments, red jasper, unakite, perhaps some beach glass and maybe a puddingstone. For the first time ever I even found a puddingstone!

I was almost out of time when I visited the last beach. Although I had already found several nice Petosky stones, I asked my mom if she would help me find a really nice (big) Petoskey or puddingstone. That's when it happened. I looked down and found a tiny puddingstone with a small red jasper heart. 

I could not believe the little beauty staring back at me. I immediately picked it up and thought perhaps someone had painted the heart on a tone and left it to be found. I was right. I was painted by God and left for me to find. It was a sign from my mom that she was listening and was sending her love to me.

Thoughts of Mom and Mother's Day

It's a bit chilly this morning. I certainly don't need the fireplace on but it is of comfort on this gray, dreary day. I can hear the birds chirping outdoors and the ducks and geese in the pond. I can't hear the fountain, but know it's on. I can see it out the window.

The lilacs are blooming and sweetly fill the air and everything is greening. Not the dark green of summer, but that light, bright green that signals early spring. 

Dandelions are blooming and going to fluff and the grass is growing at a speed that most neighbors can hardly keep up. Our eyes are teary from blooming plants and trees and noses are running. 

I watched a video this morning about a man documenting his mother's dementia journey. Although you did not have dementia, I have sympathy for him when he runs into the "worst day of his life." The day his mother did not know him. I empathize because after your stroke I did not know if you knew me. You could not remember my name for a week or two and I wasn't sure. I thought those were the worst days of my life. I was wrong.

I think about you often. Maybe not as much as you struggled when grandma passed away. But a lot. I sometimes don't realize I am thinking of you. I do miss you a lot. The thing is the worst day of my life, as it stands now, is not you forgetting me, it's the day you left.

Sometimes writing helps.

I know this is the type of morning you loved. You would call me and tell me you were sitting out on your deck with coffee in hand. You'd be watching the birds or other critters come by the deck. Sometimes a squirrel. Sometimes a bunny. Even ducks and deer stopped by. You would tell me of the butterflies, frogs and flowers. It was always about your deck and flowers.

Of course you taught me that it's too early for potted flowers. Never before Memorial Day. I would laugh and talk about my greenhouse or hoop house. Like I could one up Mother Nature. I lost many plants with my "knowledge" but never put out potted flowers before Memorial Day, unless they were cold weather hardy, like Pansies. 

Those friendly cheerful faces on the Pansies, the lilacs and the gerber daisy I saved from your memorial remind me of you. The birds. The critters outside my window, they too are a reminder. 

I am doing OK mom. I miss you and love you. Happy Mother's Day.  This year it's hard, but know that I hold you in my heart and will forever remember. 

Safe Food Prep When Kids Cook

This article is reprinted from an article I wrote for the parenting group on AnnArbor.com in 2010.

Food comes to mind when I think about the holidays. Casseroles. Roasts. Ham. Appetizers and finger foods. Cookies and cakes. Now that I have children, my appreciation for family traditions and the food we eat around the holidays has deepened as I try to impart our traditional recipes to my children for their lifetime of memories.

I enjoy cooking and have been teaching my children about the joys of cooking at home. Step by step, I have guided them through many a meal, treat or snack. I suppose that’s why I was impressed with the homework project that was sent home with my son this week. It ties in nicely to the holiday season and helps me to deepen my son’s culinary experiences while teaching him a new lesson.

The directions given to us were that we needed to allow our first grader to write the recipe for his choice of holiday food from a list he created. I think we lucked out, because the two foods on my son’s list that were circled were “pizzas” and “jalow.” Assuming that jalow is JELL-O, we’re in business. Now all I have to do is to allow him to write, in his own words, the step by step process of preparing his dishes.

I have been working in the kitchen with my kids since they were old enough to hold a spoon, even if that meant only smearing peanut butter on bread or frosting cookies. I even signed them up for a cooking class at the community center last year, although I suspect that was due to the fact that the two-hour session allowed me some much needed down-time while they were in class.

What I haven’t harped on them about, though, is thorough surface prep. Yes I’ve talked about washing their hands and cleaning their work area, but I haven’t focused on a thorough cleaning. This might be due to the fact that I am not as likely to actually consume the wonderful gourmet selections they have prepared, but it is still something I need to teach them as much as I have harped on proper hand-washing or tooth-brushing skills!

Did you know that one single bacteria cell can become more than 8 million cells in less than 24 hours and that the number of bacteria it takes to make people sick can range from as few as 10 up to millions. It’ll be easy to teach my children more about this important step, making our holiday eating much safer. It’s really not much more challenging that using hot soapy water followed by disinfectant!

Thankfully adding an additional step to his recipe prep is easier than figuring out what "hadrg" or "bagin" is on my son's list! Thankfully neither of those items was circled, although I suspect that bagin is actually bacon!

Here are some great resources for getting your kids into the kitchen this holiday season:

To get your kids cooking, check out the kids cooking classes available at Sprouting Chefs or even your local recreation center. My children took their Little Crumbs Cooking Class through the Ypsilanti Township Recreation Department.

For great recipes for children, I often turn to the recipes I read about in Family Fun Magazine. Their magazine and online reference offers kid-friendly recipes, easy how-to directions and simple recipes for kids of all ages.

Information on proper cleaning of food prep surfaces is available at Disinfect for Health. Parents can also get a free refrigerator magnet featuring simple directions for disinfecting kitchen surfaces to remind young budding chefs.

Save Additional Heartache, Be Prepared for a Health Emergency Ahead of Time

Last Saturday I made the call that will forever change my life. While on the way to Mackinaw to drop my son off for a week of scouts, I called my mom so my son could say goodbye.

"Good morning mom, how are you?" She has terminal cancer, multiple myeloma, so this is a common way for me to start a call. Her answer was also pretty common when she said, "I'm OK" using a downward inflection to indicate that she really wasn't.

"What's wrong mom?"

"Nothing."

"I know there is, what's wrong?" I did not yet know she was having difficulty speaking.

"Well, lijcsaef jnvjan n hjbhjvj nbn v."

I thought, that since I was in northern Michigan, the phone might have been breaking up. So I asked again, "Can you say that again mom?"

"Well, lijcsaef jnvjan n hjbhjvj nbn v."

At this point, my voice started to increase a bit and get edgier. "Mom, something is wrong. Are you OK? I think you might be having a stroke!" Her cancer though does weird things to her body. Sometimes when her electrolytes are off she does this, so I wasn't sure yet. Typically she just sounds a but drunk, and not like she is making up words, but I needed to know more.

"I am fine" She said.

"Mom I don't think you are, can you tell me how you feel?"

"Oh I know. But, Lijcsaef jnvjan n hjbhjvj nbn v."

"Mom, mom you are having a stroke. Lift your arms, are they both lifting equally" My intensity had risen so much that my children were now awake, a bit more aware of what was happening and also concerned. My mom had also begun to increase her intensity. 

As I am beginning to realize what's happening, I cannot remember the other stroke symptoms to ask about (facial droop with a smile) but I KNOW I need to call 9-1-1 only I am in Northern Michigan.

"Mom hang up the phone and unlock your door. I will call you right back. Please answer."

I immediately try my husband who should be home, then call her neighbor. Her neighbor Barb answers and immediately leaves for moms apartment. She is the one to call 9-1-1. Within minutes the ambulance is there and I am talking to the paramedic on the phone. Unfortunately I was likely the last person to speak to my mom (around 10:30 the might before) and they can not guarantee that we have caught her stroke within the first three hours, so there is little they can do except to rush her to the hospital.

The acronym FAST then flies through my head, but I and the paramedics are fairly certain it is a stroke. I am eternally grateful that she answered the phone; I would not have worried about her for a few hours since she often doesn't answer right away. The chemo has been tough on her and she gets tired easily lately. Sometimes too she just doesn't hear the phone.

Since Saturday though, things have been hell. Mom intermittently seems to know, or not know,  me and my brother. We are not yet sure who we will even get back. The stroke, a massive one, affected the left side of her brain, which means she has weakness on the right side of her body and much of her ability to speak is gone. 

Mom is now limited to saying yes, no and um, with other words popping in and out of her brain at random times. A friend of mine who is a speech therapist suggested I ask concrete questions of her though. That way could better gauge her understanding. So this morning when I arrived, I asked her:

"Do you know who I am?" (of course she says "Um, yea.")

"Am I your relative?"

"Um, yea."

"Am I your daughter?"

"Um, yea."

By now she is firmly reminding me of the movie Rain Man. I believe she will soon tell me what time Judge Wapner comes on, but I continue my questioning. I am still not sure she knows what she is saying so I try the technique Julie told me about.

"Is the door to your room open?"

(without looking) "Um yea."

"Do you know where the door is?" Can you point to it?"

"Um yea."

"Is the light in your room on?"

"Um yea."

By this point I am thinking perhaps she does know so I ask a couple trickier questions.

"Is it raining in your room?"

"Um yea."

"Is my shirt pink?"

"Um yea." 

My shirt is navy blue and clearly is is not raining in her room. 

Now I don't know what to believe, but I do know that asking yes and no questions is not likely to get me any closer to the answers I ultimately need. 

Later I show her photos. She seems to perhaps know who the photo is when I show her my brother at age 5. She's not sure about the grandchildren though, and I feel fairly sure she doesn't know me. When I show her photos of my grandma however, her mom, she starts to cry. I know she knows who that is, and I feel a bit better that perhaps my mom is still in there. I cry with her. Both tears of joy, as well as tears of fear, frustration and sadness. This is not how she wanted to live and for the life of me, I can not understand why a terminally ill cancer patient is being killed little by little. Her humanity is being stripped away and everything she never wanted is being forced upon her. 

My brother and I will get through this. With MM we knew she'd die. The horrific transplant she went through failed and she did not go into remission. We knew, that at some point, we'd be calling it quits. I have yet to speak to the oncologist, however the chemo that she is on is one she is repeating. She did not do well on it initially, and she has had several deadly side effects with it in the last couple of months. At this point, I am feeling that with this last scare, he is likely to take her off chemo and the cancer will win. That is for another day though. For now I have to focus on her and making the best possible plans for her future. My brother and I have to be good stewards for her.

So when the rehabilitation physician came in to speak to us, we knew what she'd say. I don't think either of us was ready to hear it though. "Your mom will never live alone or drive again." My stubborn, bullheaded, giving mother always said she did NOT want to live like this, and here it is. 

It took a bit for it to sink in, however today my brother came in determined to turn in her leased vehicle early.He will feel better getting something done before he goes home to South Carolina. The call went as expected. They would not speak to us since neither was on the account. I jokingly said he should let them speak to her. After all she would likely answer like this:

"Hi Mrs. S., is it OK if we speak to your son/daughter?"

"Um yea."

We went back to her apartment to pull out her purse, check-book and other financial information. Luckily I had the will she had done in 2003.She had put my brother and I on her bank account years ago too, so that should help, right? Today though, when we went to the bank, they could not fidn the signature card that I know what done. Which means we don;t have the necessary access to her account. 

I know we will get it, but the additional steps we will need to take will add time, energy and undue stress on both of us before we can get it done. Clearly she is in a semi-vegetative state and cannot care for herself, and within the wishes of the will she indicated her wishes. I just did not need this today. 

So today I wanted to offer this bit of sage advice...

Dear Friends Young and Old,

I wanted to share some thoughts that EACH of us needs to take care of. PLEASE have this information available for someone you love.

1) Gather passwords, user names and pin numbers to important online accounts. Put them on one master list and keep it in a safe place. 

Don't assume your loved one knows or remembers your passwords or user names. Besides, when you change a password 15 days earlier there is NO WAY your loved one will know that. My mom changed several passwords recently when her account was hacked. 15 days ago precisely.

2) If you live alone, or yous spouse has ill health, fill out a bank signature card adding someone to your bank accounts. ALSO don't assume the card is always current. Accounts change. UPDATE, update, update. 

If something happens and your connection can't get access to your accounts (like you thought), it really sucks. I KNOW I went into the bank and signed a card. My brother actually sent one from South Carolina. We don't know why the bank does not have the signature card but it's not there. Now we don't have legal access to her accounts!

3) Send IN any medical power of attorney forms. They are no good sitting in your pile of paperwork at home. 

I found my brothers power of attorney form, witnessed and notarized for him, but not signed by my mom, sitting in a pile. Actually I found 4 copies of the form that the various hospitals sent. I MAY have one that was submitted when she was at Karamanos for her transplant, however EACH time she goes into the hospital or medical facility I will need a copy of that form.

4) Have a will AND power of attorney AND a living will. Just a will alone is not a whole lot of good when you are in a vegetative state. 

My mom created a will using cheap software. Thankfully she had it witnessed and notarized, so that SHOULD make things a bit easier, but the one paragraph dropped into the will about my "brother and I having and getting access" will not stand up unless it was part of a separate document. Now we will need to hire an attorney to get anything done.

5) Have a master document that contains all your bills, account numbers and account information. Then please put it in a safe place. 

I have the credit card info and her cell phone so it's a bit easier to make calls on those, I also have access to her email on her cell phone, which helps. The biggest challenge though is with the OTHER accounts. So now I have to wait for mail and bills, and I will be constantly checking her mailbox at the apartment. No one needs the stress of paying their own bills AND someone else, but the added stress of having to actively track down information is a lot to handle. 

I'm sure there will be more tips that I will remember later, but this is my current list for you... PLEASE don't make it harder for your loved ones than it already is. While my husband and I are not perfect, I do have #1, #4 (which covers #3), and #5 complete. #2 is kind of irrelevant if the other paperwork is filled out and you have a spouse. Please, please, please help those you love and take care of this information for them ahead of time. it will save them a lot of time, energy and heartache in the long run.

Life Lessons: The First Cow

Content originally published in annarbor.comin 2009. 

My son has been very interested in asking questions of late. I suppose that’s not so bad since he is five; however it is the nature of the questions that is of a little concern to me. His most common questions revolve around babies and specifically “Mom where do babies come from?”

I know its normal behavior, and I don’t have difficulties answering most questions - but he is 5 - FIVE! He doesn’t even begin school for a few weeks, so where are these questions coming from? Is it normal for five-year-olds to NEED to know this info? It feels a little too early to answer this question with any substance. Luckily, as coincidence would have it, he seems satisfied with the vaguest of answers.

My M.O. has been to ask him “Well what do you think?” or simply say “Babies come from their mommy’s tummies.”

The other day though, as we were driving down I-94, he asked me again, “Mom where do babies come from?” “Well where do you think they come from?” “I know it takes a mommy and a daddy and the doctor cut me out of your tummy.” (C-section for both kids wouldn’t you know…) “Yes honey that’s right. Did you get the answer you needed?” “Yes.” As I breathe a HUGE sigh of relief...

There is silence in the car, until we pass a large truck hauling cattle. “Mom where are they taking the cows?”

I have to stop at this, because again, how much information is TOO much information for a five-year-olds brain. “Well Zach, sometimes cows become food for us. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“That is where we get steak and hamburgers.”

“So someone is gonna cut them up? Won’t that hurt?”

Again I have to dig deep for the answers, thinking quickly for something that makes sense - Got it. “Well sweetie, the cows are asleep and they don’t feel it.”

“Mom, did it hurt when I came out of your tummy?”

Damned my answers came back to haunt me - He’s back to asking about babies due to my C-sections. “No sweetie, I wanted you and your sister so badly it didn’t hurt me.”

Now comes the rapid fire, on the chopping block questions...

“So where do baby cows come from?”

“They come out of their mommy’s tummies.”

“So they are like us?”

“Yes sweetie, they are called mammals - They come out of their mommy’s tummy and drink her milk so they can grow.”

“But where do they COME from?”

I’m now getting frustrated and I sense his frustrations as well as I ask, “WHERE do you think they came from?”

“No, MOM, I mean the FIRST cow. Where did IT come from”

Now this stops me. To avoid any explanation of Creationism vs. Evolution to a five-year-old though, I opted for the easiest answer for my son to grasp - I suppose one might argue that I saw my out…”Well sweetie, God created the first cow.”

There is now silence in the car, complete, blessed SILENCE. He seemed to accept that answer - Thankfully he hasn’t asked about the first human, or asked again about babies and their "specifics", but I have a sinking suspicion that I am going to need simplified answers sooner rather than later…

But, he’s only FIVE!!! Isn’t that a bit early to want to know about the human reproductive cycle?!

Life Lesson: In-tents Hornswaggling

It is not a secret that my family is a big scouting family. I was a scout, my brother was a scout and both parents were leaders. My dad's father was also a scout and long-time scoutmaster. That's one of the reasons why, when my son expressed an interest in scouting, I stepped up and said I would help, which meant I was the then den leader.  I have become very active with the kids, being a leader in the Girl Scout and Boy Scout program, and my leadership has extended beyond that as a facilitator to other adult scouters and so much more. I enjoy what I give and receive from being a leader, I know that my kids see value in my leadership (which means my own children as well as the many other youth that I mentor) and mostly I appreciate the skills that my kids have received as a result of their participation.

My sin attending a cross-over of a
Cub Scout joining the Troop. 

My kids are good scouts. Most recently my son and his best friend built a Gaga Ball pit at their school - They did the research, ran the fundraising, picked out the materials and built the structure. Yes they had guidance from teachers and parents, but the thing is, they had an idea and ran with it. Someone asked my son if that was his Eagle Project. While it is Eagle worthy, he and his friend wanted to build it because they saw and need and "just wanted to." My son is often the first volunteer, he helps a local Cub Scout den as their Den Chief, has been working hard to work through rank advancement, was selected to be part of a troop that participates as the Governor's Honor Guard on Mackinac Island and was recently elected as Patrol Leader and selected to join the Order of the Arrow.

My daughter too is starting to see the value of leadership too. Most recently when she found out a local nature area needed some signage she decided to take on the project for her Bronze Award. She is a helpful scout, and an active scout who has repeatedly been a top seller and as a result is working on her own business of making and selling dog and cat treats.

My son is 12 and my daughter is 10.

I don't want to sound like I am bragging, even if I am a bit, but I mostly wanted to share all of this to illustrate that we are a strong scouting family. Yes, my kids might have gotten much of this from me regardless, but the values that scouting brings is important to us.  So why is this important to my blog post today? Scouting directly relates to a recent Life Lesson my son experience.

As a Boy Scout, my son does a lot of camping. As one of his Assistant Scoutmasters, I camp as well and LOVE the tent that I purchased for myself when we began the adventure. I have stayed warm, and dry on every campout we have been on, including the Klondike (February 2015) where we had record cold temperatures! Alps Mountaineering has not let me down. (I highly recommend their products and love the fact that they offer scouts a substantial discount through their hikerdirect.com label. (If you are a scout or scouter that does not already know about this, be sure to check it out!)

My son however has stayed in the tents that the troop has provided. As he will be participating in more non-troop activities through OA, staffing local events, etc. he has decided to get his own tent and upgrade the youth size hiking backpack I purchased used from him two years ago. Since a scout is "Thrifty" though, I suggested he look at all options for tents before buying.

As I was on Craigslist Saturday, I was pleased to see a Eureka "Scout" tent for sale for a very reasonable price. I showed my son. I suggested that since he was buying a new backpack, perhaps he should save his tent money a little longer. We reached out to the guy and arranged a meeting for the next day.

Typically I don't mind used equipment, in fact it can be a great way to try new equipment for a reasonable price. Besides, I knew he would likely need a backpacking tent in the future and the Eureka TL-4 would give him a great, high-quality, tent that would work in most seasons. Seemed like a solid win and the photos shared indicated the tent was in GREAT shape. Plus the guy was selling it at a very reasonably price that we could not pass up.

When we arrived at the designated meeting spot, the guy shook my son's hand and they exchanged pleasantries. Before we went, I suggested to my son that he would likely want to take the tent out of the bag and possibly even set it up before making the purchase. The seller however kept talking about his scouting experiences and even went so far as to say, "After we spoke yesterday I got several calls from people who were interested in my (Eureka) tent. They even tried telling me they'd pay more and that they would get it (the same day). I told them I was selling to a scout and couldn't let the kid down." He then went on to say that the tent looked exactly as pictured so my son (and I) took him at face value and did not open the tent. We even bought an additional sleeping mat that he was selling.

We did not set the tent up last night since we got home late, so today while my son was in school I

Spending the night in their
Wilderness Survival shelter

opted to set it up. I knew that the directions were missing but was able to download those. I knew the directions were missing at least. We specifically asked about the poles and were told they were in perfect shape and there were no stains, holes or rips in the tent. When setting up the tent though, I quickly realized that the poles were not in perfect shape, several had a good bend, then to make matters worse, I noticed some yellow staining (cigarette smoke?) across the white part of the tent and found that the tent was completely sticky in the inside as well as under the rain-fly. This means it was likely not properly stored and is not weather ready.

I am looking into solutions now, and have reached out to the manufacturer to see what Eureka recommends, but I am most dis-pleased that my 12-year old was taken advantage of. In a big way. The tent was misrepresented and the guy discouraged us from opening it, hinting instead that he should be trustworthy as he was also a scout. Sadly that is not the case.

My son is not home yet. Certainly I could let this be a life lesson about "look before you buy" or even "you get what you pay for." I feel strongly though, that this is likely a lesson in disappointment and that not everyone is trustworthy. I feel as much to blame as the guy who sold the tent to him since I should have insisted my son open the tent. As of right now he will be disappointed to not have a tent that he can use though and I am now searching for a solution that he can have when he attends his OA Ordeal, NYLT and other scout camping programs he is attending.

So what would you tell your child? How would you handle the inevitable disappointment?

Elf On The Shelf Causes Nightmares

I'll admit, just a little, that I bought into the whole The Elf on the Shelf thing after my son was born. However I didn't have to "buy" into it, as I already had an elf I thought might do the trick. I brought out my elf. Told the Elf on the Shelf story. Then I waited. I only needed to go as far as to say the elf was watching for good behavior and reporting his findings back to Santa. I didn't need to move him. I didn't even need to help him get into mischief as many of my friend's elf characters are doing - Although with this specific elf that is terribly tempting to do!

Wanna know why?

Take a look at my elf, that will give you a really GOOD hint.

Evil Elf on the Shelf

The reason I don't need to move my elf is, well, because he's faintly evil looking! My son is moderately terrified of him, and even asked me not to bring him out this year. Now consider again why making my elf get into mischief might be moderately fun...

Child wakes up with elf peering at him...
Child finds elf sitting on the toilet in the middle of the night...
Take pictures of elf with sleeping child...

Yes I am a mom with a slightly sick sense of humor. I loved this other bloggers commentary on over-achieving mommies and their elf on the shelf antics too!

My elf, however, is comfortably nestled within the boughs of our tree, peeking out to report the kids good behavior to Santa!

Many of my friends couldn't believe I had an "evil" Elf on the Shelf, so I posted an image on the little guy on Facebook and received multiple comments about his "good looks". One friend said...

"Where are the flying monkeys?"

Some compared it to the Stephen King's movie about the scary clown!

That'll give you nightmares!

And yet others said my Elf on the Shelf reminded them of Chuckie the doll!!!

I'm not sure that it reminds me of anything more than my grandparents. They were the ones that gave the elf to me the year I was born. He certainly does have an oddly strange look about it,maybe he's about to spit something out of those overly large cheeks. I suppose though that says more about the late 1960's - So I can blame that on my parents generation eh?

Have you given into the Elf on the Shelf?

Failure Should Not be a Dirty Word

“It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might has well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.”       ~J. K. Rowling 

While watching the Blood Moon eclipse this morning I was reminded about an experience I had this past weekend. Perhaps that was due to the fact that it was dark and peaceful outside, and my mind was allowed to wander. Whatever the reason though, I wondered again, why the word “failure” strikes fear into the hearts many.

One of the things I enjoy doing in my personal life, is to lead future generations through the lessons taught in scouting. I am a scout leader for both of my children – Boy Scouts as well as Girl Scouts. Lessons in failure, perseverance and overcoming obstacles are commonplace. So too, are those lessons about winning. So when sitting in an adult training session last weekend, we were asked, “What types of things make for a successful outing?” One of my answers was ,”Sometimes I have allowed the kids to fail, and in doing so I may illustrate some of the pillars of scouting.” (Which happen to also be life lessons.)

The room fell silent, and I received many icy stares which caused a cold rush of fear to wash over me. The reactions throughout the room were pretty amazing. The facilitator then icily responded, “We don’t call it failure, we call it learning from mistakes.”

Yes that is true, however there is nothing wrong with using the word failure. Would I use that word with the kids? Probably not, but a failure is still the opportunity to learn and can be a fun challenge to overcome. I realized this morning that the same can be said in business. Failure should not be a dirty word for my clients!

“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson 

So many times clients are put off when hearing the word “failure”, when they really shouldn’t. Marketing failure is going to happen. Whether you are creating a new ad strategy, trying something new on social media, running new creative or creating a new brochure, there will be hits and misses. 

“It’s fine to celebrate success but it is more important to heed the lessons of failure.”      ~ Bill Gates 

Failure only happens when we give up. Failure happens when we don’t learn from our mistakes. Failure in marketing happens only when we walk away without tweaking the creative. Yes one could say simply stating that “learning from our mistakes” should be used, or that we can use the term “challenges”, “obstacles” or otherwise, but the word “failure” should not be considered a dirty word. That’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it! Do you think that “failure” should be banished as a word used in business?

“You make mistakes. Mistakes don’t make you.” ~Maxwell Maltz

Wanted: The 25th Hour

I have hinted some on the Facebook Page about my challenges of late, but I suppose it's time to come clean. It's not a big deal really, it's just I haven't been able to keep up as much as I would like to. Sadly I know that's evident from the lack of posts on the blog, the lack of traffic to the site and so many other indicators.

It all started when I returned from our family vacation in August. My mom was diagnosed with Stage 3 Multiple Myeloma. I suppose one can argue that I haven't done much for mom but she is alone, so as her only local child I have helped. I'm honest with myself and others though so I can say, that like I always do, I have simply avoided things. My home. My marriage. My work. My family. Friends. The blog. Whatever it was, it seemed it was a challenge to focus. You see, I find that when I am stressed, I withdraw.

Her illness has made me stop to consider why I am doing some things and not others. Perhaps in an odd way, it's even helped me to focus. Maybe not right away, but in a round about way.

It seems though that one of the biggest things I have been focusing on, is my children. In my effort to make their lives as normal as possible I have neglected myself and many other things.  Throwing myself into running the kids from activity to activity has given me some power over what I can accomplish. Her illness has helped me to decide which activities were more important than others. Which ones I feel a longing for. And ultimately her illness has helped me to say "no" a little more often.

I am a volunteer. I almost always say "yes" when someone asks for help. I thrive when someone needs me. All of this running though has tired me out. I feel exhausted all of the time. I fell like I have gotten very little done. It's like being in a rock and a hard place - I WANT my children to have as much as I can give, but I simply can't do all they want.

I have some great friends, family and a husband. They do help. Basically though I need to step back and reassess what's important. Why am I doing this or that? Does it help someone? Does it feed me in any way?

I rarely do for myself, but in some selfish ways I need to now even when my mom and the kids need me more. I need to keep myself physically and mentally strong for everyone, especially myself.

The blog was started as a way to learn more about social media, to help me gain experience for my clients, to gain some notoriety and to perhaps get hired by clients. It gave me all of those things and more. I have a great employer for part of the week and a little freedom the rest of the week to help others. That time gets sucked up very quickly though in helping at the kids school, being a scouter mom and leader for both Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts, being a soccer mom, coaching at the Science Olympiad, helping with the school play, playing taxi or doing general mom things. Whatever it is, it doesn't leave a lot of time. And the blog is suffering some.

Again I am not complaining. I do love to give of myself and do so freely.

The blog was never meant to be a money maker. I don't have many paid ads, affiliate links or similar posts that detract from offering my readers good, clean family fun and free events. I simply like being helpful. It feeds me to be able to share. Doing so however does take a considerable amount of time. So if you see a few fewer posts, know that I am thinking about you, I just can't find a way to fit it all in. I likely am guilt ridden that I haven't posted, but I do have a few ideas for fun family activities in Ann Arbor. I'm still here, just feeling a bit thinned out right now.

Have patience though, I'm still here. And if you feel the need, visit some of the other helpful blogs in the area. We are all great resources. It seems to be a bit easier to share content to Facebook too, instead of uniquely written content, so make sure to like the Ann Arbor Mom Facebook page. When mom is going through her heavy chemo in the months ahead, I will likely have many hours sitting in the hospital doing not much of anything. I expect then that writing will take more of a priority.

Wishing you all a blessed and happy holiday season, no matter which holiday you celebrate.

Keep Your Hands and Arms in The Ride At All Times

Yesterday was one of those days. Well quite possibly it's been "one of those weeks". My daughter has the flu. Why that in and of itself may not be the end of the world, she is susceptible to pneumonia and bronchitis, so the flu is not a good thing for her. It's also caused us to alter our Thanksgiving plans.

I should be blessed to have a healthy child. A friend of mine had her teenage daughter get a liver transplant, I know other folks losing their home and still other families without employment this year. We are blessed. Truly.

It's sometimes a challenge to see the light though, especially when a day doesn't go right. I really felt like I had just stepped onto an amusement park ride. Hold on folks, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

"Ladies and Gentleman, please keep your hands and arms in the ride at all times!"

Monday I took my daughter to the doctor. They told me she had a virus. At that point she had a low-grade temp and an instant rattling cough. Yesterday morning though, she woke with a 103-degree fever and a much worse cough, so I called the doctor.

They asked me to get her in for a chest x-ray and to meet with the doctor again. We needed to make sure it hadn't developed into pneumonia overnight. The chest x-ray was negative, however the doctor told us it was influenza. She gave us a prescription and sent us on our way. That's when the comedy of errors began.

You know the Jim Carrey movie The Truman Show? If you asked me someone somewhere was taking a video of the events just to see how I'd react.



I had to rush out of the doctor's office to get my son from school. We then ran to Kroger to get a couple of items to help my daughter feel better then to get the prescription. Guess what? They didn't have the prescriptions and said they were nowhere nearby. *ugh* I called the doctor's office and had them change pharmacies.


In the second pharmacy I found that they had Tamiflu, but not the correct dosage. That meant we were headed to pharmacy #3. That pharmacy was back at the building where the doctor's office is, 30-minutes away. I got there and they instantly started telling me they didn't have the meds.

"But I stayed on hold when the office called down to ask you!"

15-minutes later they found the meds. I spent the next 30 minutes waiting, while the kids stayed in the car. They gave me the unexpected news that the meds had a high co-pay. "Do you still want the prescription?" "Why yes I do, it's better than pneumonia for my child!"

When they came over to give me my prescription they only had one. "Ah what happened to the second prescription?" "We only had one called down." "What?!"

So I stepped out to call the doctors office. Again. They told me they had in fact called in the second medication 15-minutes earlier, so I stepped BACK into the pharmacy after checking on the children.

"Oh yes, here it is." As I was now in line behind 5 more people.

I finally had the meds in hand and was headed back home with one sick child and a second (hopefully not) sick child. I just felt terribly frustrated.

I know that little things like this shouldn't bother us, however I am a terribly over-scheduled individual. I typically THRIVE being so busy, however when little things like this happen, I have a hard time changing course. It happens. I know.

I called my mom to whine and was reminded though of what happened before this all started.

On the way to the doctor's I wanted to entice my daughter to eat or drink anything, so when she asked for McDonald's I couldn't turn her down. No it isn't the healthiest, but the amount of sodium the meal would contain was likely to make her thirsty, and thus she'd take in fluids!

I ordered her meal and a bottle of water for myself, except when I pulled up to the drive-through to pay, I was told it was "Taken care of" by the driver ahead of me.

I must have had a shocked expression, because when I looked up, the driver ahead of me reached out of his window to wave at me. I waved in thanks back.

That simple act of kindness is one that made my day. Apparently the driver had given the cashier a $20 gift card with instructions to use it until it was exhausted.

So to the driver in the White Jeep Compass. Thank you. Your simple act of kindness made my day despite the crazy rid that was to come.

To Everything There is a Season

I haven't written many person blogs the last few years. maybe I haven't had time. Maybe I haven't felt inspired. Maybe I've been too tired. Today though I had to write this one. It may go through a few edits, but it is from the heart. I hope you enjoy...

The Church 

Several years back, as my husband and I found our family "church shopping", we found Trinity Episcopal in Belleville. Oddly enough, our former church in Westland had often prayed for Trinity, so that had prompted us to step inside upon Trinity when we moved to this side of town. It's always uncomfortable making changes, however the early service at the other church, with two kids in tow, wasn't going to happen. We had found a few churches locally, but none of them "spoke to us" nor really filled the void where our children were concerned. We didn't want a baby-sitting service, we wanted a church our family could grow in, and Trinity felt like it might fit the bill.

Me 

We pretty much knew we had the right church as we stepped into Trinity to find many families with children of different ages. I also knew we'd found a home because there were folks comfortable enough to be themselves, they even wore jeans. Now before you say "Jeans? So what." Know that if my mom ever caught me wearing jeans to church, I'd be accused of a mortal sin. But denim, or khaki's are "me".

I certainly like to dress up, but I am conservative and comfortable in business casual. In my faith, I have always felt "not good enough". I haven't been strong enough to not swear. I have felt envy when a neighbor gets this or that. I have gossiped or spoken ill. I have not always been an exemplary mother. Basically I have not felt worthy nor deserving. I carry my guilt very heavily, and sometimes don't feel comfortable being myself because of it. At Trinity though, I felt like I was slipping into my sweats on a warm, sunny autumn weekend, sitting by the fireplace, sipping hot tea. I felt warm and invited. I felt comfortable. I felt a connection, and it was the right fit.

My Beliefs

I'll never forget one of Father John's first sermon's I heard. It was a message that might as well have been just for me. It was a message about how none of us are worthy, and that's what makes us Christian. To make mistakes, to ask for forgiveness and to serve the Lord, that's what makes us worth.

I find peace and inner strength in giving to others, and have tried to instill gratitude and a giving heart to my children. I hope that I have done these things so that children can learn, develop and grow into be the best individuals they can be. But still there is guilt that I am not good enough. Father John's sermon's are often life stories and often take a humorous angle. Sometimes they include pop-culture references, and sometimes stories about parishioners. But always they are good, solid messages that we have listened to, thought about and enjoyed.


The Dance 

A year or so after we joined Trinity, my son started Cub Scouts. As a Tiger Cub, the boys begin to work on achievements and electives in their handbook, with one of them beginning to work on "Duty to God". For the elective, the boy can "invite a religious leader from his place of worship to his home", so we asked Father John to join us one evening.

As comfortable as I was with Trinity though, my children were still having a tough time warming up to anyone, in fact neither child would get near Father John or Deacon Dick, so bringing Father John to the house was going to get interesting no matter how you looked at it.

When he arrived that evening though, my children were all over him like a wet blanket. The sat on his lap. They crawled all over the couch where he was sitting. They sang for him. They played with him. They chatted with him and they danced for him. The dancing part became the problem though...

Somewhere my son had seen people dancing and slapping their behinds. In fact when we had visited my brother a few months earlier, my son had started dancing like this, and somehow he got the idea that doing so, while dropping is pants, was a good thing to do. In fact when he did it, it provoked gales of laughter from my brother, his wife, my mother and Michael and I. He had entertained us to a new level despite being discouraged to do so. Really?! Where would this child have gotten the idea of that kind of dancing. I now blame my brother.

So when the children started dancing for Father John that night, it was cute. At first. Then the dancing got a little louder. And it got a little crazier. And That's when my 5-year-old son started doing "the dance". Yes, THAT dance. The full-bodied, pole-stripper type dancing. Only without the pole. Of course Father John laughed, while I'm sure I began turning beet red. Then my son ran off to his bedroom, and to my complete horror tried to do the dance Uncle Andy though was exceptionally funny. Thankfully I stopped him before he showed off his - ah - other assets...

To this day I cringe when Father John tells stories, and I wonder when that particular story may pop into a sermon.

The Next Season 

About 6 weeks ago, I received a letter in the mail from Trinity. This one was different though. This one made me cry. It was Father John's letter about how he and his wife Debbie were moving to a church in West Virginia.

Change is always challenging. People come in and out of our lives all the time, but change is never easy. And for me, this change was not going to be easy.

I haven't been a lifetime member at Trinity like so many others. In fact I still feel like the "newbie" 4+ years later. (This is my fourth season in the choir, so I know we've been at Trinity at least that long, but I'm not sure entirely when we first started attending.) Some of the folks have known Father John for their entire lives. Yet his leaving still hit me hard. What will happen when they leave? Will it affect my children? Will it affect me? Will we like the changes?

Today, we are saying goodbye. For now. As always the sermon delivered was very personal. Likely speaking to everyone in church in a very personal way. During the service we heard Ecclesiastes 3. It seemed very fitting for the changes we are about to go through. And it seemed fitting for our experience with Father John. I wanted to say something to him before he and Debbie left, but didn't know what that was. I wanted to buy a card for him today too, but had a hard time finding the right words. I did though, I found them in a beautiful hallmark Card. Thank you for sharing!

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: 

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; 

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; 

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."

I Hope You Have a Child Just Like You!

My daughter taking a break from soccer!

Today my daughter told me she doesn't want to play soccer any more. Part of me is OK with that. Her heart hasn't been into it this season, she hates the crazy weather, and she is clearly not improving as much as other players her age (which I attribute to the fact that her heart isn't into it). On the phone my Mom said, "I wish she'd find something she likes and sticks with it." 

In all fairness, she has played since she was 3 so 3.5 years of playing soccer, when she's ONLY 6.5 years old isn't too shabby. Maybe she'll change her mind and come back to it. Maybe next spring she'll STILL want to play. Who knows.

As a parent, I have been her coach since she started. I did a good job teaching teamwork, and teaching the basics, but I'd really like to see how she does with someone other than me for a coach. I'd never played soccer, so being a soccer coach was a new experience for me as well. But I'd love to see how she responds to a real coach. 

My daughter has already given up on dance classes and gymnastics.She just didn't LOVE either activity, although if she applied herself I think she could have been a good gymnast. Again she's really young, and I don't want to push on any level, but I too would like her to find something she loves and improve to some level of confidence and proficiency. I'd like her to find "her thing".

Making friends is half the fun of playing soccer.

It's funny though, I know another little girl that heard "I wish you'd stick with something." She tried, basketball, volleyball, track, and cross-country. Even ran on a varsity cross country team her freshman year in high-school and placed 51st in states that year. While only the top 50 got medals, she was competing with a team of seniors, and had major knee surgery before that time in her life. That young woman also tried playing the flute, playing the piano and entering several art competitions and went  oon to have a vocal performance major in college and act in many regional commercials, industrial films and a few indy films. She has even sung the National Anthem at a Major League Baseball game! Oddly enough, the same woman who said "I wish she'd find something and stick to it" about my daughter also said it to that young woman and I think she turned out OK. She is a well-rounded adult, with lots of interests, who is a good parent and mentor to other children. So if my daughter does nothing more than fill her life-bank full of great experiences, can a mother complain? I think not.

So when your mother tells you that "She hopes you have a child just like you!" Just hope and pray that it comes true. I know one mom who is incredibly proud of her very young child and looks forward to seeing the woman she will become!

Perspective is Everyting: Child Sleeping in Car in Winter

As I arrived at work this morning I was very surprised and angered to see a child in the car next to where I parked, huddled over, sleeping. Temperatures were in the mid 20's, and although the kid was wearing a knit cap and warm coat, the car was not running. More importantly though, their parent was nowhere to be found! I was furious.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, vacillating over what to do. Then I marched into my office to call the police.

Once inside, I took a few breaths and observed the car for 2-3 minutes, all the while pacing by the window, and venting to my co-workers. How could this person be so irresponsible? What terrible parent would leave a sleeping child in their car in the middle of winter? At that point I couldn't take it, and decided to walk back out to the car.

At fist I couldn't decide if I should knock on the window. What if I woke the child? Wouldn't I really scare her? So instead I stepped towards the car for a closer look and take action...
I'm glad I did too. The "sleeping child" turned out to be a knit cap pulled over a bag of items.

I walked back into the office just in time to have my boss ask if he needed to call the police...I guess one never quits being a parent.

Lesson of the day: Perspective is everything!

7-year- old Ypsilanti Township Resident Raises $10,000 for Make A Wish

7-year-old Kyle Theume wants to
raise $10,000 for Make A Wish!

Sometimes things happen in the most amazing way; this morning while my daughter and I were casually perusing the sub-wide garage sale in Greene Farms, we stumbled across a huge sale with an unusual sight.

We immediately knew something was different as there were Make A Wish signs and balloons scattered across tables upon tables arranged neatly throughout the front yard. This was one MASSIVE sale! It wasn’t until we were paying though that we met Kyle, the reason for the sale.

Kyle Thueme, a shy 7-year old student from Perry Elementary School, decided he wanted to raise money for the Make A Wish foundation - $10,000 to be specific – And this garage sale was helping him to reach his goal.

It all started when his grandma gave him a Make A Wish t-shirt and hat and Kyle asked what the foundation was. After hearing the explanation, he immediately went to his piggy bank and emptied it to donate to the cause. “I have a lifetime to earn money!” he exclaimed.

All of the items for sale at the garage sale (June 3-4, 2011)
were donated so that the family can raise fund for Make A  Wish

To reach his lofty goal, Kyle and his family have hosted a dance at his school as well as asking friends and neighbors to donate. The garage sale will get them get even further in their quest. Since all of the food (donated by Sam’s Club) and items for sale have been donated, all proceeds will go towards this young philanthropists fundraising efforts!

If you wish to contribute, Kyle will be at his garage sale today and tomorrow 9:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m. (7238 Rachel, Ypsilanti 48198) or you can donate online at Make A Wish Michigan. To date, Kyle has reached his goal and will be able to grant 2 children their wish. Since his deadline for contributions is not until July 29 though, he has plenty of time to collect further donations to grant one more child their wish!

Sam's Club donated all of the food for sale at the garage sale
for Make A Wish Michigan

As a parent, this was an excellent teaching opportunity for me to explain how money helps other people and how even the youngest child can make a difference in the world. Kyle's parents must be proud of their son in his quest to help other children.