Motivation

I've started about a bigillion posts in the last couple of weeks months, but this one, I'm bound and determined to finish.

I'm participating in a Walk for the Cure in Saskatoon on October 2nd.  I've posted numerous times on Facebook and only have 2 VERY generous donations.  That's it.  I'm thinking maybe I just need to provide more motivation.  Maybe I need to go door to door.  Maybe I need to pledge to run it instead of walk.  Maybe I just need to tell the story.

My mother is a very strong and courageous woman.  She's one of the kindest and most giving people I have ever known in my life, and yet she's had to go through more shit than anyone should ever have to.  I'm not going to apologize for the language.  To call it anything less than that would be an understatement.

My mother is my best friend, and I will be her biggest advocate.  To be completely honest, she hasn't the foggiest clue I'm doing this for her.

For years while I was growing up, mom complained about being in pain.  Pain in her joints.  Pain in  her body.  No doctors could ever help her.  She repeatedly visited family doctors; switched doctors, and left doctors.  Not once did they have an answer for her that they divulged.  Come to find out all too late that one doctor did.  One doctor knew that she had a disease that was killing her liver.  That one doctor never told her.

In 2001/2002, she was officially diagnosed with both diabetes and liver disease... severe liver disease.  In 2002, she unsuccessfully underwent an experimental treatment for the liver disease.  They said she had 6 months or so to live.  She's gone through numerous treatments, management plans, changes in lifestyle, etc. to keep on living.  She's a fighter, thru and thru, and today she still lives!  It's amazing, and a blessing, but we are all aware that things can take a turn for the worst at any time, and it did.

Suddenly, in 2010, she began to lose massive amounts of weight.  We all knew the liver disease was taking a toll on her.  We all knew the diabetes was causing problems. BUT we all knew there was something else that was wrong. 

And we were right.

In the spring of 2011, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. 

Fortunately for my mother, the type of cancer she has/had is usually of the non-metastasizing type, meaning it usually doesn't spread.  It does, however, grow at a very fast rate.  This particular type of cancer is not treatable through chemo or radiation, but is through surgery.  Shortly after receiving the diagnosis, she was under the knife.

Talking to her following the surgery, she kept saying she could "feel" it was still there.  She *knew* they didn't get it all.  Secretly, I brushed it off.  Thought they knew what they were doing... thought she couldn't feel that.  Unfortunately for my mother, the surgeons did not take all of the cancerous tissue out.  The margins surrounding the tumor removed still contained cancerous tissue.  It's a wait and watch.  Not sure what we are waiting for... not sure what we are watching for, but we are pretty sure someday we'll see.  She continues to lose the weight and is increasingly weaker.

I look at my mother these days, and I don't see the same woman.  She was always very vibrant looking.  Bright, big blue eyes; full flushed red cheeks.  So beautiful.  Today, she's so frail and thin, pale and weak.  Still beautiful, as always, but you look in her eyes and you see she is hurting.  I used to get lost in her arms when she would hug me.  Now I'm afraid to hug too hard.  She sleeps probably 16 hours a day, and has difficulty managing solid food.  She's in constant pain.

What are the odds that someone facing impossible odds at surviving life would be dealt a devastating blow of breast cancer? Apparently just the same as you or I... 1 in 4.  I, now having it in my family history, have a higher rate than that.  So does my daughter, Aurora.

There are many times she's contemplated giving up the fight and never did. I'm not sure what keeps her going, but somewhere in there is a determination that I wish you could harness. Maybe somewhere in there is a little hope too.

This isn't an attempt at a sob story.  This is my mother's life.  A life that rests in the hands of the medical community on a daily basis.  We know that curing breast cancer will not save her life, but we also know it could prolong it.  Be aware that your story could be mine, or my mothers... 1 in 4 is a staggering statistic.  Every penny that you donate goes to finding a cure and a treatment - even better yet - a method of prevention.

Please, please donate... even $5.  It all adds up. http://www.runforthecure.com/site/TR/RunfortheCure2012/PrairiesNWT?px=1884672&pg=personal&fr_id=1299

And in case you need to put a face to the name, here she is (taken in summer 2010).

MY mother. 

If you read this, love you mom.

A Whole Lot of Updates

I'm going to be writing an update for everyone in the family this weekend, so stay tuned!  I'd do it all tonight, but I think sleep is a bit more deserving of my time ;)

Little Grabby Hands Back Snapping Testers

I'm working on a back snapping pattern (calling it Little Grabby Hands).  It's only for sizes medium and large considering there's no point to having them out of reach when babies are young.  It will be free for public use after the testing phase is complete, but I am looking for testers at the moment.  I may consider doing an XL pattern if the need arises.

If you are interested, please forward me your email to mictherr at gmail dot com and I'll get it out to you.

Every day

I apologize in advance for all the touchy, feely, philosophical posts as of late, but today I'm only going to add to them.  Today is weighing heavily on my heart.

As I travelled to work this morning, I was late.  Eloic had been up throwing up all night, and although I was sleeping in the bedroom and Reno was up with him, I didn't sleep well.  I hit the snooze 2 or 3 or 4 times - I don't really remember - until finally, I begrudgingly got off my sorry butt and had a wake up shower.  I felt terrible leaving Reno with the kids since the boys were sick, but I knew I didn't have much of a choice.  I had to go to work.

Already late, I sped off to work.  Rounding the corner near Waldheim, I notice a sprayer parked on one side of the road, and a black car parked directly across from it.  There wasn't enough room to fit two vehicles between them on the highway, so seeing an oncoming truck I stopped behind the black car.  I was annoyed that I had to stop.  I didn't understand why they didn't at least stagger themselves on the highway to avoid this problem.  Why couldn't they be considerate enough?  Why did they have to slow me down on my already long commute?

Angrily, I got right back on track.  As I approached Waldheim, a fire truck sped on down hwy 312.  I briefly wondered if the fire truck was headed to the sprayer and car, but quickly brushed it off.  After all, there was no fire.  I thought nothing of the fire if there was one.  Reno was on the volunteer fire department for Laird for a couple of years.  Most of the fires were grass fires.  Most of the fires were benign.

My big concern when I got to work was to get in contact with Reno so I could find out how the boys were doing.  Finally we made contact, and what I found out shook my whole day.  That sprayer and car parked on the side of the road... those people who put such a kink in my morning commute... those people whom I was so angry with... those people were trying to save a life.

Our neighbor; a husband, father and grandfather; a leader in the church; the mayor of our village died tragically as I drove on by.  Leaving the highway, crossing oncoming traffic, crossing a ditch and field, Gordon Nesdoly crashed his vehicle into a man made dugout and died minutes before I drove on by.  Oblivious, in my own world, I drove on by.

I have about a billion questions that will never be answered.  What if I had stopped?  Could I have helped?  What if I hadn't been in such a rush?  What if I had been just 5 minutes earlier?  Truth be told, these are selfish questions.  I'm asking them to sooth my own soul.  Gord is gone.  I can't bring him back... nobody can bring him back.  The events of today would have happened regardless of whether I was there or not.  It doesn't change the way I feel though, and it's most definitely made me more appreciative of what I do have.

I drive that commute nearly every day.  I kiss my husband, tell him I love him and walk out that door almost every day.  I pass farms and fields, familiar vehicles, landscapes and roadways, with music cranked to keep me awake every day. 

Now I'm going to take my time a little more in my driving.  I'm going to spend a couple more minutes with family before heading out on the road.  I'm going to marvel at the beautiful landscapes and sunrises, and note the subtle curves and imperfections in the roadways.  I'm going to engulf myself in the silence of the morning. 

...Every day.

The good parent

Denali gave me a poem for Mother's Day.  The poem read:

Sometimes you get discouraged
Because I am so small
And always leave my fingerprints

On furniture and walls.

But every day I'm growing
I'll be grown up some day
And all those tiny handprints

Will surely fade away.

So here's a special handprint
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small. 

I bawled.

Not because I thought it was sweet or endearing.  Not because it was so absolutely adorable (it really is!).  I cried like a blubbering idiot because I look at those handprints and already see the time that has blown by.  They aren't tiny.  They aren't the squishy little pudgy baby hands of my 6 month old.  They are the long, lean strong hands of my 7 year old.  A respectable, fantastically well behaved boy who I am proud to call my son.  So, I ask, why am I so sad to recollect the last almost 8 years of my life?

I think it's a lot of factors - all rolled into one.   Reno and I met in college.  I quit in my second year of Animal Health Technology and became pregnant pretty quickly into our relationship.  We had no money to spare.  We lived in a small apartment, lived on $50/week for food.  Aurora and Denali were both born while Reno finished up a diploma and a certificate course, and I worked an office position at a pet store.  I knew what I wanted to do with my/our lives, and Reno supported me all along.  Together we toted our belongings and two small children through 3 different cities/towns, living on meager student loans, government funding, and minuscule wages.  In the end of our schooling journey, I had my career, we bought our first house in a fantastic community - things were really on track!

But WAIT - we were expecting another child!  We knew we wanted more children, and while the timing wasn't the best, he was still a welcomed blessing :)

You have to realize reading this that anything we did as a parent with Aurora and Denali was really born out of necessity.  We simply didn't have the money or the ability to make a lot of decisions that a parent usually gets to make.  A lot of things we did a certain way because financially, we didn't have another option.  Space wise, we didn't have another option.  Energy wise, we didn't have another option.  We lived the way we had to, and we took each day as it came.  I'm proud of what we went through to make it where we are today, but that doesn't mean I don't look back and WISH it could have been different.

With Eloic, we had the freedom to make choices.  One of the choices we made was for me to be the one working and providing wages, and Reno was to stay home with the kids.  It's not a traditional choice, by any stretch, but it's one that works for us.  Do I wish it was the other way around?  In some ways, yes - in most ways, no.

Why yes?  A large part of me feels like a failure.  Why do I feel that way?  Our children have everything they need... they have food on the table, a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, parents in a healthy and loving relationship, parents who love them and take care of them,  a mom who would rather be at work than home with her kids.... WAIT... say what?  Well, no - that statement is not entirely true, but is that they way they are going to feel?

I love my children more than anything in the world... ANYTHING.  While I thought that working and doing whatever we had to do to keep the family going was because we HAD to, little did I know, it would actually be a choice.  The real problem is that I want to do it all.  I want to stay home and be with my family.  I want to be there to kiss boo boos and send them off to school.  I want to be there to show them how much I love and care for them.  I also want to develop a career.  I want to use my brain to solve complex programming problems.  I want to walk in to my place of work with my head held high and know that I do a good job.  Unfortunately, it just doesn't feel like there are enough hours in the day. 

I can't be there for it all, and I feel like a failure for it.

I look back on all those years and see missed moments.  I look at pictures and weep.  Those chubby little cheeks and infectious smiles are gone.  The hugs and kisses and endless cuddles are fading. 

My babies are growing up, and if feels like they are doing it without me.

"Yes, Sir!"

Let me preface this post by saying that this isn't directed at any one particular person.  If you are feeling like this is a direct attack on you, please don't take it this way.  This blog is my voice (not Reno's) - a place where I get to be this alter ego that resides within.  A lot of time, this stuff builds up and when it releases, it's a bit of a bomb.  Unfortunately, I can't predict where the bomb will hit a nerve, and for that reason, I hope you can all read this with a grain of salt.  Punch me back all you want, but I need to get this off my chest.

I'm not a confrontational person.  Reno always says I say sorry way too many times in a day. I feel guilty when I can't make people happy.  I'm much more of a "Yes, sir!" kind of gal.  This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but often the enthusiasm behind the yes is really lacking, and what I REALLY want to say is NO.  I am a mother of 4 children.  I cannot count on all of the digits of my appendages how many times in a day something is requested of me.  These 4 children have needs that I simply can't say no to.  I HAVE to feed them.  I HAVE to provide for them.  I HAVE to make sure they have clean clothes.  I HAVE to make them feel loved and secure.  This is not at all saying that Reno does not do his share of the work in providing for them.  He most absolutely does, but even with both of us here nearly 24/7, it still doesn't always feel like we can meet all of the expectations that have been put upon us.  I know, I know - you are thinking that this was our choice.  We chose to have this many children... You are right, we did make this choice.  We made it knowing full well how much work they are, how much attention they need and how your day/night is never really over and the worry never stops...  but it doesn't mean I'm not tired.  It doesn't change the fact that I'm not always up to the challenges put in place by others around me. 

On any given day, I take very little for myself.  I don't do my hair or my makeup.  My nails are chewed so short they sometimes hurt.  My clothes are re-worn and dirty and not at all fashionable.  I managed to find something that I absolutely LOVE doing that also to fills a need of Graysen's.  I make cloth diapers.  I'm going to start making them for others.  Not for the money, but for me.   I do it for a creative release and a little me time, and I'm not going to give that up.  I deserve to have something that makes me happy just as much as you do.

I return to work in 2 weeks.... 2 weeks!  I'm excited and nervous at the same time.  Work will have its own set of challenges and requests.  It's obvious that those - like the kids - are more of the "Yes, sir!" kind of response.  It's going to be an adjustment going back.  Factoring in the 1.5 hours of daily commute on top of an 8 hour work day is going to mean I'm even MORE tired and unwilling to bend over backwards for others. 

It's going to mean I have to say no, and it's probably going to be to you.

It doesn't mean I don't like you (or love you if you are family :)).  It doesn't mean that I value certain things over you.  It doesn't mean I don't respect you enough to consider your request.  It means that after much thought and consideration, I just don't have enough to give what you are asking....

And I'm not going to feel guilty about it.

Raising Girls

When I became pregnant with Graysen, I was secretly hoping that I would have another girl.  I wanted to balance out the whole boy/girl ratio, and I really, really wanted to give Aurora that baby sister that she wanted at the time.  I remember when I found out that I was having another boy I felt a pang of sadness.  This was my last baby and my last chance to have that girl I was hoping for.


Over time, my sadness turned into relief as my only girl turned into a drama queen.  The amount of time she spent being upset and dramatic over everything made me feel so incredibly drained.  Gradually, she leveled out a little, and the boys began to frustrate me with their wrestling and fighting, tipping the scales back to being a little sad that I wasn't having another girl.   After G was born, the sadness disappeared, and I'm so happy that he is who he is.  He fills my heart with so much happiness.


Now that Aurora is approaching the preteen years, I'm becoming more and more insecure about raising a girl.  I have always, always been insecure in my own physical attributes.  I've hidden behind my intellectual ability and stayed there.  I look at other women in envy, and am thankful that my occupation puts me among more men than women.   I've often pitied Reno for having to be stuck with me.  It's the ugly truth - I hate my body and I really don't like what carrying 4 children in my body has done to me.  Unfortunately, it's a vicious cycle of I don't think I look good, so why bother trying, which just makes me feel worse.


My mother raised me telling me I was beautiful, and it always felt heartfelt.  I really wanted to believe her, but everywhere I looked, there was this idealistic person that looked nothing like me.  I could find something to envy in just about anyone - hair, body, skin, clothes, etc.  I had dry, breaking hair.  I had acne ridden skin.  I was too tall.  BUT, I was smart and I was artistic.  The popular people didn't even acknowledge me unless it was to pick my brain.  I was largely unrecognized, and while I thrived on hiding, I longed to belong.


I resent the world for the pressures I felt.  I hate the constant barrage of commercials with super attractive scantily clad women in it.  I hate that the pop music my daughter will likely grow up listening is full of lyrics that objectify women.  I know it sounds like one giant cliche saying all of this, but society is set up to cause women to spend their entire lives struggling to accept who they are. 

So I've dumped the blame on society - that's fine.  However, I have to raise my daughter to be a confident young woman.  I have to take ownership for how I feel.  I have to make that change within myself so that I can raise her to do the same.  I don't know if she will share in the same struggles I did.  She's very strong academically, and reminds me of myself in so many ways.  Right now, she believes she is beautiful (as she should - she is gorgeous :)), but I really hope she can maintain that confidence.

Drama Queen

This is going to be as much a growing experience for me as it is for her....