Chasing (and praying) away the monsters

A few weeks ago, I posted about a friend and colleague of mine whose 7-year old sweet son Max is fighting neuroblastoma - an aggressive, common, and uncurable form of pediatric cancer. He was been fighting cancer now for 4 years and after being a brave warrior for so long, it now appears that the inevitable may be coming. I have been watching his story unfold and have been reading about how the cancer has progressed for months now -- and it has reached an inflection point.

His parents were told last Thursday by the oncologists at the children's hospital that they should just stop. Stop treatment to ease Max's constant pain. Stop with hospice.

They may as well just told them to stop hoping. And as Max's dad said, "Without hope, what is there?"

My heart aches for them, and everytime I think about it, I cry.

And even though I was raised Catholic, I am not very religious and prayerful. But tonight, I, along with Hannah and Luke prayed for Max and his family. And we prayed that the Mikulak family and Max could still have hope.

I was mindful tonight as I was reading Max's blog update how our kids would react to my bursts of tearfulness. So I decided to explain it to them. And I was surprised at how much they understood the magnitude of such a complicated and heart-wrenching situation.

Me: Guys, my friend has a little boy named Max. We have to pray for Max tonight and for the next few nights...he needs us to keep hope alive. He is very sick and is dying.

Hannah: Why is he sick? And he's dying? What's wrong with him? Didn't his mommy give him medicine?

Me: Honey, his mommy and doctors have him all kinds of medicine. And it's just not working anymore.

Luke: Why is he sick? What does he have? What's it called?

Me: It's called cancer.

Luke: It's a cancer monster?

Me: Yes, it's a cancer monster.

Hannah: Where is the cancer monster? Is it in his house?

Me: The cancer monster is inside his body and it's spreading all over.

Luke: It's inside his body? How did it get there? Where did it come from?

Me: I don't know, but it's there. And they can't get rid of it.

Luke: What's it doing in his body?

Hannah: (putting the pieces together, as eloquently as an almost-4-year-old could, she answered his question)
Luke, the cancer monster is eating up Max's insides and his bones. And when it is done, all that will be left is a skeleton.

Luke: Oh... (realizing the potential finality of the cancer monster's impact)
So, we need to pray for Max so he won't die and so the cancer monster will go away forever.

And with that, we said a special prayer and sent vibes of hope to sweet Max.

Wisteria Lane = my neighborhood?

I think my neighborhood is turning into Wisteria Lane.

We have quite a few Lynette Scavos (the strong-willed, full-time working, Alpha moms).

We have a Gabrielle Solis (the fashionista, diva-type).

We have a Susan Mayer (the down-to-earth, cutsie single mom).

While there is no one who is fully a Bree Van De Camp Hodge, we all have a little Bree in all of us  (the ultra-proper, Martha-Stewart-esque, uber mom who on the surface is put together but under the covers is a complete, hot mess).

And we even have an Edie Britt (the single, bitchy, watch-your-husband-or-she-might-try-to-bang-him type...)

Our neighborhood's tendencies to be Wisteria Lane-like has been even more pronounced by a lot of recent drama that has taken place in the lives of the women who live here.  And drama, it is... 

With drama and very public knowledge of your neighbors' goings-on comes the gossip and unfair carousing and side-taking.

And I don't want any part of it.

But I find myself getting sucked in.  

Why?  Because I have grown to actually like some of these people (well, maybe not the Edie-type).   A few of them I consider to be good friends vs. only acquaintances.  And I care about them.

But some of the drama is making me sick...and sad.

Is this the inevitable nature of white-collar-class American suburbia?  Or is it just my 'hood?

(i will probably regret even writing this in the morning...but in the true spirit of blogging - which is journaling, really - i am writing this as a cathartic measure so i can vent and get it all out...i refuse for my voice to be dictated by who may or may not see it...Or, am I just plain stupid?!)

Back to school blues

Hannah and Luke start preschool again on Monday. And I am feeling mixed emotions about their return to school.

On one hand, I am excited because they've had a nice, activity-filled summer with grandma and grandpa and I think they are ready for more structured days and play-based academic learning again.

On the other hand, I feel nervous.

Why?

Because, based on the recommendation of their last preschool teacher and the director of the school, we are putting them in different classes for the first time. With different teachers. And at some point they will be making different friends alltogether.

And I guess it's okay, since of course, as twins, it is inevitable that they would eventually split up as a "unit"...but at 3 years old? I've only known them together, doing almost everything together.

But, the obvious rationale here is that they need to develop independently -- socially, academically, physically. And better to get that established sooner rather than later.

Still, I am anxious about our decision. Hannah is the independent, the pensive and methodical one...the thinker. She is also Luke's caretaker -- she loves to mother Luke. She is also painfully shy and relies on her very gregarious brother. Luke on the other hand, is the social butterfly, the life of the party, the physically active one as well as the problem solver. He is also very sensitive and needs his twin sister.

They are two unique individuals with their own demeanors who will eventually choose their own path...I know, but still, I wasn't ready for this yet.

We've prepped them the last 2 weeks that they would not be together at school, except for a few times in the 4-year old playground, and they seem to be OK with it.

Despite this, I feel angst. And I also feel a little sad. Going back to school means that the summer is pretty much over. And going back to school also means that my babies are growing up.

Obama + Biden = sellout?

Ok, so I rarely make political commentary on a lifestyle forum such as my blog, but I wanted to comment on something that has perplexed me all day since I learned of the news this morning.

I'm all for "change we can believe in," but...

Senator Joe Biden?

Yes, he has a long history on Capitol Hill and compliments Obama on almost every issue where there is a perceived deficit or gap, but...wha?? Biden does not represent what Obama's campaign modus operandi has been so far - "change we can believe in." Biden is more like "status quo" in my book.

No disrespect to Mr. Biden (who, no doubt has done great things for his constituents). The Obama camp may characterize this move as a rounding out of the Democratic ticket. But to me this highlights a lack of confidence on Obama's part and a virtual selling out to the Washington bourgeoisie of Howard Dean and the like.

Don't get me wrong, I will still put my vote down for Obama-Biden come November but I have to admit that this choice has me scratching my head.

Am I the only one?

I'll get over it in a few days, I guess.

(Or maybe I'm just disappointed because I was secretly hoping for an Obama-Clinton dream ticket to be announced today, despite news of her keynote address at the DNC next week. Or Obama and some other lucky female running mate like Kathleen Sebellius from Kansas. I guess we'll wait another 20 years before seeing another woman in #1 or #2 spot.)

Tired.

TGIF.  What a week.

Between a kick-butt work week, the Olympics (watching, let's be clear), mothering and being a wife to my husband (barely), I just feel exhausted.  Like I don't have much to give, much less to myself.  

So when I sit here all by my lonesome, with everyone asleep, and the house still, what do I do?

I want to write.  Or sit.  Or muse and ponder.  

Or all of the above.

But I'm so beat I can barely keep my eyes open as I type.  

Why am I still writing?

So I can remember.

Remember that there are good weeks and bad weeks.  Remember that being a full-time working mom, or a MOM in general is not easy and can leave you depleted at the end of the day...at the end of the week...where even though you have the aspiration to catch that precious time that you've already spent away from the family all week, your real desire is to hole up and sit by yourself.  And think about nothing.  Or write about nothing...like I am doing now.  Or just be.

I sometimes forget what that's like - to just be.  And it's kind of nice.  

This is exactly why I blog.

The Empire (working mother guilt) Strikes Back

I came home tonight from work, only to get back on the computer an hour later to fire off some critical work e-mails before the evening settled in. 

So there I was sitting in our home office (mind you, after having spent 10 hours at my work office with no real break...including a 1 1/2 hour working lunch meeting) finishing up e-mails that needed to be sent for a big presentation on Monday.  For 45 minutes.

And there was Hannah, sitting in the home office with me for those 45 minutes, periodically coloring, watching me type e-mails on the computer, and basically trying to get my attention by asking me the same questions...to which I kept replying "Um..hmmm... yes, Hannah. Ten minutes, sweetie," etc.

Finally, she gave up.    Here's how it went down:

H:  What are you doing, mommy?  Are you on your e-mail?

Me: Yes, Hannah (continuing to look at my computer screen while typing away)...Just 10 minutes before you have my full attention.  (tap, tap, tap, tap. type, type, type, type...)

H: Why are you saying 10 minutes?  You said that 10 minutes ago.

Me: Oh yeah, you're right.  (Looking up from my typing.  Oops! Wow, only 3 1/2  - she catches on fast.)

H:  Mommy, do you like to spend time with me when you're at home?

Me:  (At this point, I stop typing all together and look her in the eye.  Oh goodness, here it -- GUILT-- goes again.)

Hannah, honey.  Of course I do.

H:  Then why are you typing e-mails?  You were at work all day during the daytime.  And now it's almost night time.  

Me:  Hannah, I need to do some things for work.  This is part of my responsibility.  I need to do this for my job.  And then after I'm done, you will have me 100%!

H:  (looking down.)

But you're  not looking at me when I talk to you.  

Me: Because I'm typing.  But when I'm done, we can talk all we want!  (I give her a big smile  and give her a bear hug.)

H: Uh...OK.   Can I just stay here in the office with you while you finish?  I just want to be here with you.

Me:  (feeling sad and guilty that I could not give her my undivided attention even after I've already left the physical work office...but haven't yet emotionally left the office)  Ok, honey.  If it makes you feel better to be here with me while I am on e-mail, then please feel free to stay.  I just can't pay full attention to you until I am done.  OK?

H: OK.  (she looks defeated and proceeds to color a Princess Leia coloring page I printed out for her)

(sigh, again)

And of course, two hours later, here I am in the same home office where I was previously sending out work e-mails.  

And now, I am blogging about my interaction with Hannah instead of spending pure quality time --interacting, talking and making solid eye contact with  her.  GEMS, or "genuine encounter moments" as my parenting class teacher in Redirecting Children's Behavior called them.   We need them to make deposits into the emotional bank account vs. what I am doing, which is probably a bunch of withdrawals.  

(At least they are on the floor 2 feet away from me coloring Princess Leia, Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker... and if it makes them feel close to me and is providing a deposit in the emotional bank account, well, then...it'll do.)

One week at a time.  And sometimes, I will have to take shortcuts.

T minus 1 day until...

...this race.

Oh well, I guess you never really feel ready. But I will run it no matter what.
Forget my goal of doing this race under 2 hours. I just want to finish.

I just hope staying up late every night to watch the Olympics doesn't catch up with me for this run. I will certainly need the energy!

This week at work and with my new non-profit foundation was a bitch and a half. And then pile this race on top of the super-busy week, and I have an unrelaxing weekend since I will be consumed by it, at least until 9am Sunday when it will be done and over with.

And then afterwards I will go to a spa and get a massage and get a pedicure. I will think those happy thoughts as I trudge through serene Point Loma, the beautiful harbor downtown and then through idyllic Balboa Park - all 13.1 miles of it.

The wonderful world of Disney

After a lovely and relaxing 5-day vacation in the serene central coast, we spent an un-relaxing day at The Happiest Place On Earth on the way back home to San Diego.  

Main Street, U.S.A., with Sleeping Beauty's castle in the distance

The kids had a ball of a time.  

I, however, feel like I was bitchslapped.  Bitchslapped by the Southern California August heat, bitchslapped by the summer crowds, bitchslapped by the Disney marketing machine which resulted in the kids whining every time we were funnelled at the end of an ride right into the contextually relevant-themed Disneyland store beckoning us to spend more money (Even after the $69 per adult head and the $59 for each kid we had paid just to enter the park).

I can only imagine the Disney marketing people in a conference room when they were laying out the design of Disneyland...

Travelled to Endor on Star Tours?  Come to our Tomorrowland store and spend money on Star Wars action figures and light sabers!  

Just rode Pirates of the Caribbean?  Dole out some cash for a wig and be just like Captain Jack Sparrow!  OR, come buy plastic swords so you can pummel each other with it!

Drove a car on Autopia?  Buy your kids the *exclusive* Lightning McQueen and Tow Mater cars that you can only find here at the wonderful world of Disney!

Don't even get me started on the Princess Faire, where we could have visited Cinderella, Belle and Ariel within a 5 minute span  (after about a 45 minute wait in line).  As you walk out of the "visits" with the princesses, you enter the most lovely store complete with beautiful Disney Princess dresses and accoutrements.  (We didn't visit the princesses this time, but here's a photo of our last visit to Princess Faire back in February).

At least the ride-to-merchant layouts and upsells are contextually relevant -- I'll give them that. So much so that the kids were asking us to shop after every ride.  Oy.  Disney...the Marketing Machine.

Anyhooooo....

Despite all my bitching about the unsolicited attempts to spend money at every corner, the kids had a great time.  Which is what matters most, really.

(And OK, OK.   I admit, we had a great time, too.  How can you not when your kids are grinning from ear to ear?!)

Here are some photos chronicling our latest adventures at The Happiest Place On Earth.

Jedi Training Camp...waiting for Darth

Don't ever let your 3 year old drive the car at Autopia.  I still have whiplash.

Tarzan's Treehouse (formerly the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse back in the 70's when I was a kid visiting Disneyland.  Good move changing the name, Disney.  I can see today's kids now - Swiss Family...uh...who?)

Mad Tea Party - a 1955 original

King Arthur's Carousel

And nearing the end of the day, this:

Cafe Orleans for a nice sit-down dinner, right after riding Pirates of the Caribbean

And we all know this well...end-of-the-evening general crankiness.  Time to go home now!

Who says you need to go far to have a nice family vacation?

...Especially when the exceptionally gorgeous central coast of California is just a 5 hour drive away?

I am always in wonderment when we road trip through our home state.  Nowhere else in the world can you have the beach, the desert, ski slopes and world-renowned national parks all within a short(ish) drive.    (Well...OK,  maybe New Zealand qualifies too, but it certainly is *not* the best place to live.)

The beach, in particular on the central California coast is a sight to behold...it really is unlike any other coastline in the world.  Drive through the Pacific Coast Highway or the 101 anywhere from Big Sur all the way down to Santa Barbara and you are in for a visual feast.

I told Dave to kick me next time I have wanderlust and want to shell out about a month's worth of salary on another expensive family trip to Europe.  (NOT recommended with 3 year old twins, by the way, and definitely NOT recommended when the dollar is doing as shi%ty as it is against the British pound sterling and the Euro.  Thanks, Mr. Bush.)

Central coast rocks.

  

Vacation's all I ever wanted

Here we are on vacation, finally. A road-trip one, at that. Just 250 miles north of San Diego at Dave's family's shore house in a sleepy little beach hamlet called Cayucos.

And I wonder why we haven't done this sooner?!

Who says that you need to go to Mexico or Maui or Europe for a great vacation?

Only Day 2 in the beautiful central coast of California and my pulse rate is already lower, my sleep time is more restful and my relaxation meter is at an all-time high. I don't think I've been this relaxed since I went to La Costa Spa...and that was over a year ago. And to boot, we're with the kids and both grandmas. (They are our babysitters - and they are both happy to do it!) Yes, we are all relaxed.

Some friends chuckled when I told them I was going up the coast to the beach.
"Well, isn't San Diego one big beach town, really?!" they would say.

Yes, but San Diego is so not Cayucos, where the town itself is so small you may miss it if you stop to blink while on Highway 1. You can saunter a slow "I'm-at-the-beach" saunter to the market, church, town pier and a variety of adorable beach eateries all within 15 minutes of the house.

And the beach...oh, the lovely beach. The shoreline stretches for at least 6 miles and the beach is wide and flat and packed with sand...it's a runner's dream beach, really. Not to mention, there are just small smatterings of people along the shore...you feel like you have the place all to yourself. And to top it off, you can see the shoreline crest around and on a clear day, you can see Morro Rock in nearby Morro Bay. Just amazing.

If I weren't on dial-up and I had my camera cord, I would upload photos...but we'll save that for the next post.

In the meantime, I'll keep enjoying my family and my overall decreased pulse rate (I will need it since the month of August at work will be so not fun...there's probably some higher reason I somehow neglected to bring the power cord to my blackberry...Oops).

'Til then, I'll enjoy my beachin' self.