True Selflessness

My daughter called me today at work crying because she had just gotten off the phone with her father.  He had the nerve to tell her that all she thinks about is herself.  I am guessing she prob called him to either ask about her new cell phone or when he was taking them again.  The normal reasons for her calling him because there are never any real conversations on his part.

It was this that made me think of the time a month or so ago when my daughter really showed her selflessness.

My girls and I were at a full day school function on a Saturday.  It was the lunch break and the cafeteria was jam packed full of people.  A loud and rambunctious group of kids ranging from 5 to 16 with some adults thrown into the mix.  People were still waiting in line to get there food while groups of other people were walking around to find empty seats. 

My girls and I were sitting at a table with a bunch of thier friends, our babysitter and her daughter.  A few of the girls were done eating and had moved onto the next thing and we happened to have one seat open with us. 

Olivia is a very quiet and shy 8th grader that has Autism.  She is a really nice girl but she keeps to herself.  I'm guessing that she must have paced back and forth through the center of the cafeteria between the rows of tables maybe 3 or 4 times looking around for a place to sit by herself. 

I hadn't noticed until my oldest daughter, Andrea, took a break from volunteering and settled down to sit with us and she noticed Olivia looking for a seat.  She stood up and shouted out, "Olivia," as she waved for her to come and join us for lunch. 

Olivia's face lit up showing a sign of relief as she slightly smiled and walked over to our table and sat down with us.  As she set her tray down on the table with an, "Ahhh, Thank you, Andrea." 

We sat with Olivia and had such a great conversation.  It was such a pleasure meeting her that day.  It was then that I was so proud of my daughter.  I had this over whelming sense  of pride.  That maybe I am doing something right with my girls after all, no matter what they say.

Can't Help the MADNESS

"I JUST CAN'T HELP THE MADNESS!!!" Spoken by my 7 year old, Evy, that is currently struggling with anger issues as she is throwing h

erself and everything that she dares to get her hands on to throw.  Anything that she knows will not break or get mom REALLY upset.

We have really been struggling with this for a little while now.  As we had it fairly under control she relapses from time to time. 

They were outside playing with the neighbor kids and I hear glass breaking out on the front steps.  Concerned, I head out there to see that the neighbor's plate was broke all over the front steps. Apparently her older sister (my 10 year old, Lex) and her were fighting and Lex made her break the neighbor's plate.

Once I check the bright red chest of Evy from Lex "joking" around I make them clean up the glass and come in the house for the night.  Niether of them like this at all, but Lex has realized throughout the years that fighting with mom gets her NOWHERE'S. But Evy on the other hand is struggling with this lesson and starts to FLIP OUT with one of her relapses.

"We were JOKING. Please Mom, give me one more chance," *kicking shoes off, slamming doors, stomping around, throwing herself on the floor,* "YADA YADA YADA!"  So now instead of tonight we are working on tomorrow night too.  "It's no fair, you don't let us do anything, I don't want be a HOUSE HUBBA!" (whatever that means to a 7 year old?)  

"You need to control yourself.  Where do you think this is getting you?" 

*Sniffle, Sniffle* "I'm sorry mom I just can't help the madness!" she tells me.  "I tried counting all the way to twenty and it was still there!"

I'm sorry to say but to hear her say this with that sobbing face between sniffles just makes we want to chuckle inside.  Maybe it is all getting through to her. 

So for tonight we have agreed to disagree and maybe tomorrow if they can get along they will be able to go outside and do it again.  After she gets completely calmed down we will read her Fancy Nancy and head to bed until next time....

(Excuse any errors here, I'm writing as I contend with these issues.)

Help Needed

My 13 year old daughter came home tonight from school and informed me that sometimes she feels like hanging herself.  I know this is coming from hearing about those boys that hung themselves recently from being bullied.  She has a minor form of Cerebral Palsy and has Siezures.  She has had problems with bullying over the years but she has seemed to be doing well this year in 7th grade. She started playing sports and has made friends with alot more of the girls.  She has a girl that she has been friends with for awhile but this girl is always bringing her down.  Today she apparantly had some more issues with this girl and came home that way.  I have been telling her that she needs to keep the good relationships and get rid of the bad ones.  Is it that easy for young girls to really understand? 

I am really struggling here. I try and assure her that she will be ok and everything will be ok.  But what can you really say here??  I really want to help her and I really don't think that she would ever do something like this but how do you really know? How do I help her to get past these thoughts and assure her?  How do I tell her enough how much I love her?

My Mother's Day Letter

Dear Mom,

This letter is for always being there for me.  I have something to tell you.  Mom, You pick me up at dance and other sports, You love to make me smile when I'm upset.  I love the way you respect yourself.

When you help me on my homework you make me feel good. You give me things when I need them and you let me hang out with my friends.  You have always been there for me, that shows you believe in me.

I hope you have a good day.  I love you and Happy Mother's Day!

Love,

Andrea

This is my Mother's day letter from my 13 year old daughter that I suspect of greatly disliking me most of the time.  It brought tears to my eyes.  I guess I ddin't expect it.  I guess there isn't much better than a child's love.  If I have that what am I really missing. 

They Don't Make Them Like That Anymore

I have always told myself that they don’t make men like my father anymore.  My dad was always all about us kids. 

I will start off by saying that it takes a real man to raise someone else’s children as his own.  I didn’t even know that he adopted my older brother and sister until I was in my teens.  Their father was an abusive alcoholic and he signed off rights to them to get out of paying child support when they were really young.  

I can’t remember one important event or day for that matter without him very present.  He was at almost every home and local game for every sport that I ever played, school assemblies, and important functions.  Well other than our travels with mom.  

Dad’s outlook is we can go where ever we would like as long as we didn’t try and drag him along.  He was a hometown boy through and through.  He never lived outside of a two mile circle.   Being the Town Highway Superintendant, Bus Driver, Volunteer Fireman, and Farmer his whole life he didn’t travel much farther.  We did get him to Pennsylvania once or twice though. 

He was the most caring and friendly person that I have ever met.  I am sure he is where I get my sociable attitude from.  He knew everyone and everyone knew him.  Even to this day I am “Art Fuller’s daughter”, fifteen years later after he passed away, nothing like good old dad to get me out of a speeding ticket or two. 

When I was really little I used to sit behind him on the back of the couch and “do his hair”.  We have some old faded Polaroid pictures of him and me with all of his colorful barrettes and spiky pony tails. 

It always seemed like a treat when he would take me to the little corner store in town, which burned down quite a long time ago, with him.  I would guess I was maybe five or six years old.  My dad would always sing the song, “Hey Good Looking, Whatcha Got Cooking,” to me on the way.  I still remember the older gentleman saying as we walked in, “What can I get for you today Art?” 

After we were finished there we would go next door which I think now looking back had that dark dreary feeling of a bar in the middle of the day.  We would go there and I would sit up to the bar and swivel around on the stool while dad and I would sip hot chocolate for me and coffee for him.     

We would just lie back in his recliner watching the headlights off on a distant hill that was about ten miles away.  You would never notice them or believe that’s where they were if he didn’t point them out to you.  Now the trees are too overgrown to see them.  

We would spend hours and hours planting in his garden that was the size of a football field.  His colorful gladiolas took up the front half of the garden and the rest were the usual vegetables.  Glads were his favorite flowers and it was a tradition planting the bulbs every spring and digging them up in the fall for next year. 

He would pull the grill out of the back garage and we would have a little cook out.  Us kids would play kick ball or soft ball until it was too dark to see.  Then we would hang out back by the garage and watch heat lightning off in the distance. 

Christmastime was always my favorite time of year.  My dad and his friend always had a contest to see who could use the most lights.  We would hang lights on everything from the complete house, to the swing set, to the clothesline and whatever else occupied our country acre.  I couldn’t even begin to guess how many thousands of lights that he used.  It was always quite a sight. 

I will admit that I wasn’t always overly fond of waiting on Christmas morning while he was out plowing roads until late morning.  It was always challenging to see the heaping piles of presents and not being able to open them.  But we had our overstuffed stockings to get us through.

Some nights when I couldn’t sleep or was up in the middle of the night, my dad would always be down in the kitchen for his midnight snack.  Every morning between one and two he would be having a bowl of bread and milk or crackers and milk (which apparently my sister still does to this day).  Let me first say ewww but seriously though it was always the best time to just sit and chat for a little while.  Of course when I was younger it always seemed like a surprise but looking back it never should have been because he was always there. 

There were also the other normal every day constants in life.

Coming home from school and dad will be fixing dinner while he watched In the Heat of the Night on the tv.

The Wheel of Fortune always came on at seven as long as he was home.  He probably would have TiVo’d it if we had it back then. 

Every night since his heart attack he had his nightly walk to the corner and back, which was about a quarter of a mile. 

Friday night bowling for as long as I can remember, normally mom and dad would let us come along. 

My goodness I think I could go on and on here probably forever.  I guess you all get the point. 

To My Dearest Dad,

I love you so much and miss you every day with all my heart.  Someday my girls will have someone in their life that will make them feel as special as you did me.  I do now strongly and truly believe it.

Happy Father’s Day

In Memory of my Dad

My dad’s birthday is swiftly arriving.  It is now only two days away.  It’s just another reminder of how much I miss him, not like I need reminding because I miss him and think of him daily, even after all this time.  He guides me continuously in my life and happiness. 

As I sit here in tears and write this it feels as though it was only yesterday.  It was December 1, 1993.  I was a JV cheerleader and it was the first basketball game of the year and only the Varsity was playing but the JV cheerleaders had to be there for the half time routine.  So as my dad was always there for every game that any of us girls ever played for any sport he was going to be there with my little sister who was 7 at the time.

After our half time routine, we went down to one of the classrooms to take a break until they were ready to play again.  I knew something was up when one of the janitors, that happened to be watching his step son play with my dad, came running down the hallway to the janitor’s office to call 911.  We overheard something about someone falling.  We didn’t pay too much attention we were young girls goofing around in our own little world.  But deep down something didn’t feel right to me. 

When time was up we headed back towards the gym and most of the people from the gym had flooded into the foyer and just as we reached the doors I saw a good friend and neighbor of ours holding my little sister crying.  It was right then that I realized it was my dad and it was bad.  I fell to my knees and covered my face with my pompoms and burst into tears. 

My friend that was carrying my little sister came over to me and helped me up along with someone else and brought us away from the gym doors so we didn’t see what was going on while they were waiting for the ambulance inside the gym.  I remember our friend giving me a ride home and some other close friends took my little sister with them.  When I got home my grandfather was the only one there.  He was trying to get a hold of my mom who went shopping with my sister that lived about 45 minutes away, this of course was before the time of cell phones.  I ran to my room and balled into my pillow in the dark with my music blaring not really sure if my dad was dead or alive, only that he had a Heart Attack.

Finally the friends that took my sister came and picked me up and were suppose to take me to the hospital but had to drop my sister off and few other things before they went.  I just wanted to get to the hospital.  I think they were trying to keep my busy until they could get a hold of my mom and she got to the hospital. 

When my mom and sister got back to my sister’s house from shopping, mom happened to go in the house to use the bathroom before the trip home and of course they listened to the answering machine to find out what was going on with dad.  They made the 45 minute trip in about 25 minutes. 

By the time that I had gotten to the hospital everyone else was there and they had gotten my dad set up in the intensive care unit of the small local hospital.  They had confirmed that he had a Heart Attack and was in a comma and on life support.  At the time they were not 100% sure if they had gotten to him quick enough and if he would come out of it. 

I remember walking into his room.  It barely looked like him without his glasses and his side swept hair and with all of the tubes and wires everywhere.  Other than all of the sniffling all you could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor and breathes of the respirator that were keeping him alive.

To be continued ….. (I need a break)    

In Memory Part 2

My father was in the ICU of the hospital for six days.  For six days my mom and I did not leave the waiting room of the hospital.  Barely eating and sleeping on those lousy cushioned benches.  I think that once my boyfriend came to try to comfort me and my family convinced me that it would be ok to go and grab something to eat.  So I did.  I still feel bad to this day I was not more welcoming to him trying to be there for me.  But that’s another story.

After numerous tests and no response they came to the conclusion that he wasn’t coming out of it.  This was no surprise to them.  After all he had been too long without oxygen before anyone had realized that his falling in the bleachers was actually more than that but they wanted to be sure.  After six days the doctor came to us and told mom she had to make the decision to pull the plug or keep dad on life support.  We all knew that dad never wanted to live like that but hearing it come out of her mouth, even as hard as I know it was for her to say, just felt like my world was ending. 

They took dad off of the machines and pulled all the tubes.  I remember sitting in the his room waiting and listening as the beeps gradually came slower and slower as his breathing and heart beat slowed with no support.  It almost seemed different now seeing him without the tubes and wires.  Under the circumstance they didn’t enforce the 2 person limit in the room so we were all there.  Within an hour as I held his hand his beeps turned to the flat line tone.  It was one of the worst moments of my life.

After we all had said our final good byes to him we stepped just outside of his room by the nurses’ station.  Just as my mom and I walked out of his room the ceiling collapsed in the room next to him, there was no one there thank goodness.  I can’t remember who said it but as we all looked at each other they said that dad was going out with a bang.  I guess it was our own way of maybe trying to make sense of it all and maybe get even a slight laugh out of us all under the circumstances.

My father died on December 6^th.  After all of the crying for days and days on end by the time the calling hours came you can’t cry anymore.  The calling hours went on for 8 hours, they were supposed to be 4 or 6 but the line was never ending, he was a Highway Superintendent of our town and very active in the fire dept. and liked by everyone who knew him.  When I saw my friends from school and my boyfriend was the only time that I just couldn’t hold in the tears. 

We buried him on December 9^th, which is almost unlikely in Central New York.  It started snowing at his funeral for the first time that year.  I still have the rose pedals from the roses I threw in his grave.   I carry them with me every day in my purse along with my lunch money he gave me that last morning for school.

On December 10^th we tried to celebrate my 15^th birthday.  Mom tried to take us all out for dinner and do something special for me thinking it would make me feel better.  Needless to say I struggle with those 10 days every year.  But I always try and make the best of it. 

They don’t make men like him anymore.  They always say that you marry your father or someone like them is more like it but I guess until then I can only hope it is true.

Life with an Ill Parent

I know as many do that it is hard living with an ill parent.  It's hard when it is our turn to take care of them, but don't we owe them that. 

My mom has been fighting Colon Cancer for about four years now.  After multiple surgeries, a temporary colostomy, and weekly chemotherapy treatments she was cancer free for about a year.  About two years ago she was re-diagnosed with Stage 4 Colon Cancer on her lung.  It has been a long hard road of days and nights in the hospital (one time for two months), 24 hours full home care to build her strength back up, and weekly chemo treatments. 

Dealing with doctor appointments, treatments, blood work along with juggling 2 jobs and being a single mom sometimes makes you feel like the sky is collapsing.  It is hard being strong for your kids and holding it all in so that things don’t look as bad as they may be.

She is feeling pretty good lately after numerous Chemo drugs and allergic reactions and multiple hospital stays they have found a treatment that so far (knock on wood) seems to be agreeing with her for now.  But you never know one day from the next it seems to change like the wind. 

The only way I have gotten through all of this is by taking it all one day at a time (sometimes I was living from one moment to the next).  I try hard to make the best of everyday that I can and I make it a point of at least talking to her every day.  I have even voluntarily cut back from work one day a week so that I can take her to chemo every week to take the load off from my sister in law who probably gets stuck with most of it.  It is quite nice though, we go to get her chemo treatment and then we go grab some lunch and depending on how she is feeling we sometimes go shopping.  Some days she is up to it and some days she is not.

I have to remind myself, sometimes frequently, when she is having a bad day and pretty down and yelling at everyone because no one can do anything right that it is the drugs and not her.  She can’t help it.  It is not personal and no matter how hard this is for us I can’t imagine how hard it is for her, the pain and agony. 

I guess my advice for anyone in this circumstance, you really have to take one day at a time and make the best of everyday, good or bad. 

When they have those bad days and no one can do anything right don’t hold it against them because they don’t mean it.  I think it means more to them than you know just being there. 

It helps to cry, I know how hard it is when you are trying to be strong but you need to cry.  It isn’t healthy to hold it all in and it is amazing how much it helps to cry once in a while.  You will feel better when you are done it kind of clears your head even if your only chance is in the car. 

Make time for you.  You will need this to clear your head from everything else so you do not get overwhelmed or burnt out.  That isn’t good for anyone.

Get help from all avenues possible.  We try and split up the responsibilities between us kids but it is mostly gets dumped between my sister in law and myself.  Take what you can get.

I wish you all well and the best of luck.   Remember you are not alone.   

Tell us your story or what helps to make things easier for you.  

Hannah Montana The Movie

I will admit that I have never been a huge Hannah Montana fan but my 3 girls are.  I took them to the movies last Friday for the opening of the Hannah Montana Movie.  I have got to say the movie was great!!!  We all loved it.  The whole theatre, which was the fullest I have ever seen it was clapping at the end of the movie.  I laughed, I cried, and more importantly I was inspired to want to try for my dreams. 

Her new song “It’s the Climb”, which strategically came out a couple of weeks before the movie, pretty much says it all about life, great song.  I would recommend this movie to anyone.  There were grandmas coming out of the theatre raving about how excellent it was.  Now I just hope that Miley Cyrus doesn’t become another Lindsay Lohan!!  Movie night anyone….  

Modern day Easter Bunny

Here it is Easter Eve and here I am just as I am on Christmas Eve, only with a whole hell of a lot less work, YAH for that!!  I sit here with my Mike’s Hard Lemonade, flipping back and forth from PNN, Myspace, and Facebook, and watching the latest in the Nora Robert’s novel made movie.  Let me tell I really like the movies but let me tell you some of them may as well be rated MATURE for extreme adult content (maybe that’s why I like them,lol), I can’t imagine what the books might hold that they are leaving out.  I guess it’s the life of a modern day Easter Bunny, or maybe the Next Generation Easter Bunny.  Or maybe that’s what the mom’s have always done minus the laptop in her lap.   

Hoping to become Seizure Free

My 13 year old daughter has Hemiparisis, a minor form of Cerebral Palsy which has caused her to start having partial complex seizures when she started to reach puberty 3 years ago.  The Cerebral Palsy was caused by an abnormal indentation on the left side of her brain.  Considering her difficulties she is a normal teenage girl. Boy crazy and all!!  Unless you really pay attention you don’t notice her walk with a limp or that she has a difficult time with her right hand. 

This morning I took her to the neurologist for a yearly check up.  Unfortunately her medicine has not been working as well as it should, she is still having one seizure a month about the same time she has her period.    

The doctor has decided to switch her medication.  The goal is to have none at all not one a month.  It will take 3 months to switch from one to other because you have to wean her off the old and on the new at the same time.  This is the only other seizure medicine that does not make her all groggy and kind of out of it.  If this medicine does not work we will try another one maybe two.  If these medications don’t work he tells us that they will have to take a look at that abnormal section of the brain and see if she needs it or if it is causing more damage than good. 

I believe that he put it in these terms hoping that my 13 year old would not quite catch on.  I think because it is a slight possibility in the distant future and I don’t think he wanted to put more doubts in her mind.  It even took me a few minutes to process what he was saying.  She didn’t say too much about it on the way home other than the change of medicine.  She was quite concerned about taking the different medicines and different quantities of course because she hates anything out of the ordinary.

Boy was I surprised to hear her tell her sisters’ babysitter, that has to some degree become one of her confidants, that she may have to have brain surgery if they can’t control her seizures with her medicine.  I don’t know if it was just hearing those words or hearing them come out of her mouth and realizing that she is aware of what those words may mean to her. 

After this I realized that we definitely needed to talk about this deeper and of course we did.  I told her that it is not something that is definitely going to happen.  It is a last resort option and if the doctors are not sure that it is for the best they wouldn’t do it.  If it did happen it would be quite a while from now.  Let’s get switched to the new medicine and we will take it from there.  The new medicine is stronger and the old medicine had helped so much but just didn’t quite take care of it completely.  So we need one a bit stronger than the old one.  We will take it as it comes. 

What else can you say?