Good News, Bad News

It's been a roller coaster week. After many, many trips to the vet we have received the worst diagnosis possible for our wonderful 10 year old Fred. Cancer. He's losing weight like crazy, down to about 9 lbs or less from his starting point of 16 (he's a Maine Coon and they are big, muscular kitties) and still losing. At this point, there is nothing we can do but give him a lot of love and attention, making him as comfortable as possible and hopefully having him through the holidays. He's the greatest kitty and we are having a hard time imagining our family without him.

In the midst of all the vet visits, we are busy getting ready for the holidays. We are happy that Erica is able to swap hours with someone at her two jobs so she can come home for Thanksgiving. It won't be much time - she'll arrive at about midnight on Wednesday and have to head back after dinner on Thursday - but we will take what we can get and be happy that we'll have some fun time together. We'll have enough time to play some wild rounds of Tripoly or Uno Attack with the holiday music blaring.

Kevin's high school band program has kept us hopping and, happily, their efforts have paid off for them in a big way. This last Saturday they competed at the State level against 32 other high schools. They took 2nd place in their division (seven schools), but took the High Music Award for the entire event. Woohoo!!!!! I think it teaches the kids how much they can accomplish as a team and with practice. They are back at it today (on a school holiday) as they prepare for another field show competition in two weeks.

This all has me thinking about how much my parents missed. I remember Christmas as a child. We hung stockings one year. One. Mom suggested we wedge the edge of one of our knee-high socks in the top drawer of the buffet in the dining room. It was all very unceremonious. I recall there were a few goodies in it (I still remember the plastic flute and the Fred Flintsone toy where I pushed up on the bottom of it and he flopped around with his elasticized limbs), but she didn't think it was worth the effort to continue the practice. We never had Christmas stockings again.

As a family, we watch "A Christmas Story" every year while we decorate our tree. I think about the scene where the kids are opening presents and the dad had acquired the beloved BB gun for his son, hidden it away until last, and watched him open the gift and lose his mind from happiness. Hmmm. I wonder what that would have been like? I think about the Christmas programs in which I participated in school, including a solo in 8th grade, none of which were attended by my parents. I remember my best friend Michelle sharing her dad with me at the Father Daughter Girl Scout banquet, and how I felt so embarrassed that my father was the only one missing. He wasn't there simply because he wasn't interested and didn't care.

I have been to every single one of my children's performances at daycare and school. When I was hired at the hospital, I made sure that they understood that I HAD to be at every school event and would get back to the office as quickly as possible, but it wasn't an option. They were great and always accommodating. I sat through the same Christmas program year after year for my daughter and went because I wanted to be there and loved watching her, not out of a sense of obligation. I have attended every single field show for my son in marching band and he's happy to have me there. That's the best reason. I appreciate my children more, I think, because of how little my parents appreciated me. I watch them and wonder if my parents ever realized how much they missed, how much fun they could have had, or how much their neglect would cause me heartache for my entire life.

In the meantime, I relish the holidays, the fun we have together, and the fact that my children really want to be home with us for the holidays. Even with bad news like Fred's diagnosis, we can focus on the fact that we will be together and make sure that Fred has an extra special Christmas stocking this year.

Games People Play

As a family, we are a little nuts with our passion for playing "Slug Bug." We have learned that, for those who play, there is a wide range of rules and most everyone is pretty firm about their rules being "right." In our home, only the old Volkswagens count. As a former bug owner, I am quite firm in my opinion that the newer bugs have their engines at the wrong end, making them useless and ineligible for points. We call the buses or vans, "super slug bug" (my friend Gail calls them "Grand Daddy" bugs, and I found a web site where someone said they yell, "double slugbug") for which one earns two points; the beetles are worth one. We change the rules sometimes, but only if we agree before the game starts. Having recently discovered "Lost," we now have the "Dharma bug." That's a super slug bug that is the original faded light blue and white two-tone and it's worth three points. If we yell, "Dharma bug!" we get three points, but if we mess up and just yell, "super slugbug," we only get the regular two points. The game runs for only as long as that trip in the car. If we stop the car and get out, the game is over. And we don't hit each other! Family rule!

The thing that's so funny and got me thinking about this is that I can't refrain from playing all by myself in my head when I'm alone in the car. Kevin's friends think it's funny that when I'm playing carpool mom and driving everyone home after school that wanted a ride, I'll interrupt anyone, myself included, to yell, "Slugbug!" if I spot on en route. I absolutely vibrate and hyperventilate when I see one of those old Volkswagen graveyards and have to count on my fingers and I scream out all of my "slugbug" and "superslugbug" calls while the family just howls and laughs at me. Hey, I win! What else matters? :-)

There are some really, truly simple things in life that can't be beat for a good chuckle.

Proud Mom Moment

My son came home from school yesterday upset about an incident that involved a classmate trying to push him to buy drugs. Today the school intervened, discovered drugs on the boy and expelled him from school. I was proud and relieved that Kevin felt he could talk to me, happy that he reacted by letting me know what happened instead of, as many kids do, taking the drugs and giving them a try. As a parent, we hope and pray that the things we tell our children really sink in and that they listen. More importantly, I hoped that I had instilled in my children the morals about which I feel so strongly and today my son proved that I have done alright as a mother.

My rules for life are simple. Do the right thing. Don't lie. If someone gives you too much money in change, give the extra back. Be a good friend. Appreciate your friends. Don't take what you have for granted. Be generous and give for the sake of giving, not because you expect anything in return. Be grateful for every little thing, not just big stuff. Tell the people you love that you love them often. Don't complain so much! Tell people the good things you think about them - everyone wants to hear the good things. Be a good companion. Hold the door open for others. Life is good when we are good people.

My son is a good person. My daughter is a good person. What more could a mom ask for?

Staying Positive

A couple of months ago I saw Jenny McCarthy in an interview where she talked about the fact that they don't watch the news in their home because it's just bad. Not that being informed is bad, but that the local "news" tends to be just a lot of ugliness, gossip, and certainly not "need to know" kind of stuff. I was just getting my car repaired and listened to the absolute blithering for an hour by newscasters about a local brush fire. The fact that there is a fire by the freeway and providing information about any evacuation or road closure is critical, but that's not what they were doing. They were asking anyone who lived in the area to call, tell "us" what they're seeing (even though the news helicopters were broadcasting a live picture), talk about what they, personally, had packed up if they needed to evacuate...absolutely idiotic banter with no useful information. Not once did they mention the portion of the freeway that was closed. Earlier today, I saw a news bulletin about a shooting in L.A. with SWAT team members trying to end the encounter. Of course the news is broadcasting a live image of all the SWAT guys on the roof tops, showing their location (complete with shots of the street signs), while stating that they wanted to be careful and not give the bad guys any information about where the SWAT team was positioned. OMG. What idiots.

When I got home this afternoon, I don't know what possessed me to turn on the tv. I had been stressed from the window falling in my car door while at the grocery store (thank goodness I could get it repaired in the hour that I was listening to the newscasters blither) and wanted to relax. As I flipped through the channels, I paid attention to how many really depraved, negative and just ugly programs are on TV. There were reality shows about people hiring private investigators to catch their cheating spouses, shows like Bridezillas that promote the most revolting of bad manners and language, shows like Maury where hundreds of women every year are seeking to find out who the fathers of their children are (and I do mean that plurally - it's gross). How can anyone maintain a positive attitude in life watching all of this horrible nastiness?

Today I'm making a pledge to not watch any more of that kind of television. I find that when I turn it off and turn on music or put on a light hearted program, I'm in a much better mood. There are so many ways to be entertained and informed in a positive way. It is hard to imagine that constant exposure to this depravity has no impact on the people who watch. I'm going to ask the family to join me in turning off and turning away from the negative stuff and see if it doesn't help us stay in a more positive frame of mind. It couldn't hurt!