Mistakes we make

I wish I had the image in a scanned form. Somewhere in my photo albums is a picture of my middle child as he was going off to kindergarten sporting his Oh, so popular mullet. I think he'd die of embarrassment if he remembered the picture. Today he took his own son to Great Clips to have his son's hair cut in the Oh, so popular mohawk. Clifton is happy with the cut and is probably going to spend a much cooler summer without the beautiful brown curls his hair forms. But someday, he will look back on this picture of his move to Georgia and wonder what his parents were thinking.

The good thing that shouldn't be overlooked here is that he and his parents are moving to Georgia. It feels right to have them here. Even though Fort Campbell was the place that both Clifton and I were born, Georgia just seems where we belong. If feels like getting all my chicks back in the nest.

Again

Tears again. I wonder that it never ends. This time it's Sarah. She has a new tumor. It's 2.3 centimeters and it's in her brain, too deep for gamma knife. She won't make it. I left the support room in tears. Sarah is angry. I can't blame her. I'm angry too, and sad. I hate losing my friends this way. I guess we all won't make it for one reason or another. I guess I'd lose my friends eventually. Because we are in a breast cancer support group, we lose each other to cancer. I should know this. But my heart aches with every diagnosis, with every bad report. I notice once more the anvil hanging over my own head. Does it never end?

Jack, One Year Old

Last night we celebrated Jack's first birthday. He does not actually turn one for a few more days, but it was Memorial Day weekend when we were waiting for him to be born. This Memorial Day weekend, I'm sure is much more pleasant for Jenn. It was a nice party and completely appropriate for a one year old. Mostly it was grandparents, aunts and uncles and close family friends. Jack got toys for gifts. He didn't appear to be overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of a toy store in his living room. He didn't seem to overly tramatized by the head of the grumpy catapillar cake being deposited on his tray to be played with and eaten. He was even willing to share the new toys with the other children who were there. Mostly he wanted to play with the tissue paper.

Change of Heart

I locked my blog a few days ago thinking that it would make me feel more free to express myself here. It didn't work, so I have given everyone permission to read again. I'm afraid that the result is that I will have lost those people who read my blog regularly. Hopefully they will forgive me and find their way back.

The bigger issue is that I'm no longer using this media to express myself. When I started blogging many years ago, I was going through a divorce and needed somewhere to scream without disturbing my already hurting kids. Then I needed a place to vent about the impossibility of controlling teen aged boys. Then losing my home and being the mother of an American soldier in a war zone took over the conversation. After that, it was one of the darkest periods as I was expressing my feelings as I was facing death with breast cancer. But since then and especially over the past year, my blog has rambled on about not much. It's not that I don't have problems, I have plenty of those. It's just that I think that I understand the power of my words to be negative more now. I know that what I rant about can cause a serious breach in relationships. I've experienced it on both sides over the past year. So if I want to scream about my ex-husbands crazy wife, or about various family members, while it may be good for me to scream about it somewhere, I understand that it may be deleterious to important relationships to do so. The thing is that by locking this diary, it didn't take away the feeling that I need to measure every word.

So whatever the outcome, the diary is open again to be viewed.

Hard of Hearing

It's not news to my family that I'm hard of hearing. We've all known it for years, but it's getting worse lately. And to make it worse, going to the audiologist and getting a definative diagnosis gave me hope that something could be done about it. The truth is that something could be done about it, if audiologist behaved like the rest of the medical community and charged the insurance company for durable medical supplies. But they don't. They want the money up front and for me to file the insurance claim. Hearing aids cost upwards of $2000 each and I'd need them for both ears. And then the wear out in five or six years and need to be replaced. I don't have the money sitting around and I can guarantee that I'm not going to have it again a few years down the road. Auditory loss just isn't a huge deal to the medical community. I'm sure that no one ever died from it.

To me it's frustrating. I can hear that people are talking to me and I want to listen, but I can't make out what they are saying. It's like listening to Charlie Brown's teacher. And people think it's ok to make fun that I can't hear them, but it's not funny. My daughter will look down or away and talk in a soft voice and then say "never mind!" when I ask her what she said. She says that its hard to talk to me. No, it's hard for me to listen, but at least I try. If she wanted me to hear, she speak where I can hear.

Consideration

I'm thinking about making this blog private. I haven't wanted to, because writing to an audience is somewhat of a boost. But I also write to an audience of family and friends who are like family. At times I'd like to voice my frustration or saddness about my relationships with some of them and I can't. Other times, I say off handed things and then they get taken in the wrong way. Lately though, I'm needing this space to vent the things that are weighing on my heart and there are times that I can't because I'm afraid of who will read it.

Health Day at Corporate

Today is the Health Fair here at Corporate.  It has emerged as one of the biggest events that the office has, even dwarfing Founders Day.  I guess that says a lot regarding where the company places it's priorities.  I mean, if they can get us all on board with prevention, the company can save some money over our sorry cancer/heart disease causing lifestyles.  The problem being that I'm not so sure that there is any real cancer prevention.  I mean, yeah, you can quit smoking, eat a healthy diet, exercise and stay at an optimal weight but that is still no guarantee that you will not get cancer, or even heart disease.  How many athletes have you heard of that they carried dead off the athletic field?  How many more have debilitating events that don't make the news?  And look a Dana Reeves, she didn't smoke and she still got lung cancer.  The other issue we were discussing at the lunch table yesterday. There is a whole group of people who are making an attempt at living to be 150 years old.  Really, they were on Ophra.  They pretty much eat nuts and berries and exercise 12 hours a day.  They go to bed at sundown and get up at sun rise.  From  the gossip yesterday, they are pretty much on target for living that long.  Our question was, if that is what you have to do to live that long, why would you want to?  Shouldn't you enjoy your life a little?  Should it all be about the rules to stay alive?  Even diabetics can splurge a little. 

 

Happy Friday

Yeah,It's Friday! Isn't it a shame that we live the whole week for one day?

Boobie Check

Smashed, probed and prodded…the TATA's are terrific…Next mammogram in one year.

 

Dining Out

Tonight is Dining Out. For those of you who aren't familiar with this, it is the very fancy awards banquet for AFJROTC. I have been to many of these over the years and it is usually entertaining. One thing that I found out about these things is that I like to see my kids get awards, and in this program my kids have gotten their fair share of the award pie. Tonight I am sure will be no different. The only thing is that Lizzie is in running for group commander. She doesn't seem to think so, and as in everything, she's given up before the ceremony begins, but still, I think she may be surprised at how well she does.