Archive for the ‘Mother's wisdom’ Category

How a step-mom says “I love you.”

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Aiden, Ashley and EthanShe is the most honest person I’ve ever known.  And she honestly didn’t like me for a long time after we met.

Can you blame her?  I’m her step-mom, and as long as I was in her life, that meant her mother and father were probably not getting back together.  We met almost ten years ago.  How can that be?  Ten beautiful, difficult years have flown by.  We’ve cried a million tears in that time, danced around each other, wondered where our lives were going.  We both fell in love with the little boys, my sons Ethan and Aiden, her brothers, and our love for them gave us something powerful in common. And then . . . Ashley taught me to not be afraid of the truth.

I remember sitting in Barnes and Noble talking with her about the most intimate feelings of our hearts.  She didn’t say what she thought I wanted to hear, and that gave me the courage to tell her my truth, as well.  Our truths didn’t match, but our courage did. 

I share my life, my home, my family with Ashley.  I call her Ashey.  I’m not sure when the nickname started, but I like it now.  I hope she does, too.  It means “I love you.” It means no matter what the future holds, I love you.  It means no matter who is cold or false or disinterested in the world, I love you. It means one of the greatest gifts your father has ever given me is the chance to know you.

Happy birthday beautiful Ashey.  I celebrate you this day, and there is so very much to celebrate.

Posted in Family, Mother's wisdom, Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

“There you are!”

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

Laurel in redThis is Laurel. She is my oldest daughter, my “sweet girl.”  She is my co-emcee of Special Olympics’ gatherings, my instructor in art appreciation.  She is the reason I am married.  And she turns 21 this week.

I had never been close to someone with Down Syndrome before I met Laurel.  She taught me.  She taught me how to wait, listen, and laugh.  Remember the instructions we learned in grade school if you caught on fire?  “Stop, drop and roll.”  Laurel taught me, “Wait, listen and laugh.”  She showed me what a life without manipulation looks like, a life without cruelty or guile.  She showed me the divine step that comes after forgiveness, the one when you realize no forgiveness is necessary.  She is my light.

She is also, to be quite accurate, my step-daughter, although I feel so proud when the barista at the Barnes and Noble cafe asks if my daughter and I would like our regulars.  She gets chocolate cake and milk.  I get a mocha latte, no whip cream.  I say, “Yes.  Thank you,” and he smiles.  People respond with more kindness when Laurel is with me.  She brings out the very best in people, maybe even in me.

When her father and I realized we were in love, the thought of being a step-mother to three children was terrifying.  These kids were so confused, so filled with pain and blame, just as anyone would have been in their place.  But not Laurel.  From the minute she met me, she loved me.  She would walk into my apartment, her sister and brother unable to speak, let alone smile, and she would throw her arms up in the air and exclaim with Disneyland enthusiasm, “There you are!”

There you are, my sweet girl.  You’re all grown up now, but you still like Barney and coloring books and playing in the sand box.  You are the eternal child, born with everything you ever needed, just as we all are.  And I will learn at your feet for as long as you’ll let me.

Posted in Family, Mother's wisdom | 3 Comments »

Please don’t hurt my baby.

Thursday, February 4th, 2010

blog imageThis is Aiden.  He is my youngest son.  He is the most naturally happy of my 5 children.  He also has a genetic disorder called Noonan’s Syndrome.

I share this with you because, as a result of his disorder, he has been enrolled in a program funded by the State called Baby Watch.  Amazing program.  From the time he was 3 months old, professional women came to our home and taught us how to teach him.  When we would get frustrated that he still wouldn’t eat, terrified that if he didn’t, he would need a feeding tube, they would teach us, hold our hands, show us the way.  When he was 2 years old and still hadn’t said Mama, they helped.  “Lips together.  Ma . . . ma . . . ma.  You can do it Aiden.”  So, when a respresentative from Baby Watch called me this week to ask if I would testify before the legislative committee on health and human services, the same committee that is considering cutting the funding for Baby Watch, I said “yes.”

I have never been a part of the process before.  I’ve always stood safely on the sidelines, reporting on other people’s tragedy, other people’s decisions.  But not this week.  This week I waited in a crammed hearing room with a hundred other people, some disabled, some parents with children who were disabled, some advocates for the disabled, all waiting hour after hour for their turn to speak. 

The committee knew it had more people there than it had time to hear, but it tried to hear us all.  Two minutes.  That’s how long we had.  Each person walked, or wheeled, up to the microphone.  Some held crumpled papers with their life stories carefully written the night before.  They were nervous.  I was nervous.  Whether they were mid-sentence or mid-tear, when the two minutes were up, they had to go.  I understand the pragmatism.  They had to move us along.  But the pain.

The pain of watching us all, one by one, come to the front to beg. “Please don’t hurt my child.”

“Please don’t hurt me.”

“I can’t function without my assistance.  Please don’t hurt me.”

It was one of the most humiliating events of my life.  How could we put these people through this?  I know the budget realities.  I understand so many thousands are worthy for so many different reasons, but if we can’t help these most helpless among us, who are we?  Is it purely a numbers game? “Well, there are fewer of them than the rest of us, so we should use the money to help the most people.”  Is that a moral argument?  Which man with polio should we sentence to death by neglect?  Which child with disabilities should we not help develop his brain – when we could – if we could afford to?

I know we need to help each other, that the State is not the answer to all of the world’s problems.  In a perfect world, we would all step up to meet every need of our brother.  But in this imperfect world we live in, who are we if we do not help the most vulnerable among us?  How can we enjoy the benefits we’ll receive with the money taken from these least of our brothers?

I am admitting my bias.  My child benefits. My precious Aiden is learning and growing in the Baby Watch program.  I thank God for the teachers and therapists in that program.  And I am humbled by the process that makes me go to the State to beg.

Please don’t hurt my baby.

Posted in Family, Mother's wisdom, Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

Here’s your stocking stuffer this year!

Monday, December 14th, 2009

blog imageIf your teenagers are like mine, they have cell phones.  They’re on their cell phones constantly.  And their brains, as is evident from their behavior (!) are not as developed as ours.  Why is this relevant to a stocking stuffer?  Because according to Dr. Oz and a doctor from the University of Utah named Dr. Orn Ghandi, the radiation from cell phones penetrates into the head of a child much deeper than an adult and can cause damage.

Look – I don’t know if cell phone usage will cause tumors in my kids, or me for that matter.  But I do know that minds immeasurably superior to mine think they might.  One doctor I read even said that we may be at the beginning of an epidemic of cell phone induced tumors.

So what can I do?  Neutralize the radiation.  That’s it.  I put this little sticker on the back of my cell phone called a Xzubi, and it neutralizes the radiation.  It’s like $15.00.  I got one for each of my kids, too.  I’m thinking stocking stuffer here.

So, if I’m wrong, it was $15.00.  But if I’m right and this technology becomes standard in the industry in a couple years, I protected them for those couple years – and protected their precious brains (which already have enough to challenge them, don’t you think?)

Happy holidays everybody.

Posted in Family, Mother's wisdom | 3 Comments »

Is it love and logic or is it just love?

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

Ethan ready for schoolThis is Ethan. 

Ethan is a magical child.  He knows the lyrics of practially every song he’s ever heard.  He uses words like hippopotamus and ridiculous (although not in the same sentence.)  When I play him music to fall asleep to, he asks for Debussy’s Clair de lune – by name.  He likes teachers and chocolate and inviting himself into the neighbor’s houses.

Ethan also likes hitting his little brother, refusing to come to dinner, and throwing temper tantrums that require alerting the insurance company.  He’s broken everything we’ve ever put in his room, so we took everything out – and then he broke the closet doors.  We put him in time out, we try to stay calm, we tell him why he’s in time out, but he just goes from 0 to 60 miles per hour mad like no child we’ve ever seen.

My husband and I are studying, trying to understand what we’re doing that is contributing to the problem.  We read the book The Magical Child that talks about how children under 7 are in a magical world where adult logic does not apply.  And we’re reading books like Love and Logic and Your Defiant Child, which talk about applying real logic to a 4-year-old in order to teach him consequences.

Which is it – is it love and logic . . . or just love?  What am I doing wrong?

Posted in Mother's wisdom | 5 Comments »

My Mama was right

Thursday, August 20th, 2009

When I was a little girl (how many great stories have begun with those words) my mother would react to my tantrums in the same way.  I have an image of her ironing in the dining room while I sat nearby complaining about how hot it was or how I had nobody to play with. She would not take her eyes off my father’s shirt, but would say in my direction, “I think somebody might need to go over to the hospital and donate some of her time to those less fortunate.”

Arrgghhhh!

Her advice would send me right over the top, even as I knew it was true.  Perhaps because I knew it was true.  I didn’t often heed her words, didn’t make my way to the hospital to sit at the bedside of someone suffering and alone, but when I did – it cured me.

And it still does.

I’ve been struggling lately with . . . my life . . . and my Mama had the answer all along.  Give of yourself.  Give of myself.  To my children, to my husband, to the world.  Give and give until all I feel is love. I’m only on day two of remembering her advice, and already my heart is lightening, the insecurity and judgment fading away, being replaced by the smiles of my children.  There just isn’t room for self-absorbed nonsense and selfless love in the same heart . . at least not at the same time.

Thank you Mama.

Posted in Mother's wisdom | 4 Comments »