I've made it my personal mission to sit on the couch with the kids at least a couple nights a week. Nights that Sidney doesn't have practice or 2 hours of homework make ideal nights. It's truly rewarding to hunker down with the kids, watch TV and not focus on anything other than being in the moment - with them. It's priceless.
I had the most interesting experience with Ashton this week. We were watching Billy the Exterminator (that's right, I said it...don't judge me!) with Sidney attached to my hip and Ashton on my lap. Without warning, he pulled my face right next to his and held it there. He held it there for about 15 minutes. Physically connected - cheek to cheek. I tried to assure him that if he let go I wouldn't move. I would stay firmly in place. Just where he intended for me to be. It was as if he didn't even hear me. His hand remained on my face pressing my face to his. I have no idea what his motivation was, but neither one of us seemed to mind it much.
Where does the zit come in, you ask? Well, little boys aren't exactly hygiene conscious 100% of the time. His dirty little paw on my face for that period of time certainly sprouted an awesome zit. I suppose if I have to have one this is the best way to get it!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Another Day in Paradise
I may have been off the grid for a while, but I have not lost my edge. Especially as it relates to sarcasm.
Everyday I am cautiously optimistic that the next day will be the day where I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The insanity will become more tolerable. This ridiculous pace of life I keep will slow. And then I sit down at 9pm and wonder where the day went and question if I have signed everyone's agenda book and planted a snack in their bag. ...another day, some other way.
I was in my flurry of dropping Sidney off at basketball and taking Ashton for a hair cut when he interrupted my cluttered thought process of evaluating the next item on the list and the time allotted to complete said task. As we were standing in the hall waiting for the varsity players to vacate the gym, my blonde beauty is hitting my leg. "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." I snapped out of the trance and responded to his plea. "What Buddy?" He's blatantly pointing at someone, although I dare not look and states in a very matter-of-fact tone "Mommy, that guy is 'all tatted up.'"After I pushed my eyes back into my head, set his arm and index finger at ease I erupted with laughter. Of course, this is a Lisa-ism that he picked up and applied in proper context.
Kudos to Ashton for listening, comprehension and proper execution. Makes the day a little brighter.
Everyday I am cautiously optimistic that the next day will be the day where I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The insanity will become more tolerable. This ridiculous pace of life I keep will slow. And then I sit down at 9pm and wonder where the day went and question if I have signed everyone's agenda book and planted a snack in their bag. ...another day, some other way.
I was in my flurry of dropping Sidney off at basketball and taking Ashton for a hair cut when he interrupted my cluttered thought process of evaluating the next item on the list and the time allotted to complete said task. As we were standing in the hall waiting for the varsity players to vacate the gym, my blonde beauty is hitting my leg. "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." I snapped out of the trance and responded to his plea. "What Buddy?" He's blatantly pointing at someone, although I dare not look and states in a very matter-of-fact tone "Mommy, that guy is 'all tatted up.'"After I pushed my eyes back into my head, set his arm and index finger at ease I erupted with laughter. Of course, this is a Lisa-ism that he picked up and applied in proper context.
Kudos to Ashton for listening, comprehension and proper execution. Makes the day a little brighter.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Hiatus
The hiatus is over. I'm back on the wagon. I've missed my storytelling outlet. In the past few months it's been traded for half-marathon training, kids' athletics, vacations, Wishes Can Happen, 4th grade homework, work insanity and quite frankly - sheer exhaustion.
A former colleague and good friend of mine, Brett, illustrated this picture of me - as Wonder Woman. I've always loved Wonder Woman...even as a child. Now I have become her.
A former colleague and good friend of mine, Brett, illustrated this picture of me - as Wonder Woman. I've always loved Wonder Woman...even as a child. Now I have become her.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Marisa's Wish
I met with my wish family tonight for dinner. This was the first face-to-face meeting after multiple electronic communications. I assure you there were some nerves on both sides of the table.
This wish is for a 21 year old college junior whose life was interrupted by leukemia. After four non-diagnosis visits finally the news came that she had leukemia. Less than a hour after a doctor visit the phone call came instructing her to go to the hospital immediately. Within hours she was being treated with chemo and subsequently was informed that had she gone undiagnosed and untreated she would have had a maximum of 2 weeks to live. Two weeks.
As she was telling me her story I fought back tears. I listened intently. I admired her strength. I empathized with her mother. Beyond the story of this young woman's battle with leukemia, was her underlying story - her will to live.
There was never a moment that she uttered disgust with her illness going undiagnosed. Never a word about how disappointing it was to lose over a year of her college career. No focus on the 2 years of ongoing treatment that she endured. Rather, she told me how blessed she was. She had the support of her family, her medical team, her friends and her school. She spent the majority of the time talking to me about all of the fantastic people who she met along this journey. How they have inspired her. How she became stronger as a result of it all. She shared information about survivor retreats that she found to be encouraging and how that may benefit future wish recipients that I work with. She talked about the triathlon she is participating in and raising money for to send another cancer survivor to a survivor retreat. Her focus was not on her illness. She as clearly fueled with the passion of helping others who have and are going through the same thing.
Throughout this conversation her mom would pop in and join for a few moments. She had to work and was waiting our table so she could be a part of this trip unveiling. As I revealed the details of the trip, the tears were welling in Marisa's mother's eyes. You see, Marisa just had her port removed last week after 2 years of chemo. This along with a trip to the Florida Keys signified a new beginning. New memories. A bright future. Mom kept telling me that this was "too much." "It's too much. That is so much money. It's too much. You have no idea what it means to us." By this point the tears had erupted from everyone at the table. It's not too much. In fact, it's not enough. Nothing can erase the time that this illness took away from this family. The damage it did to Marisa's body. The emotional wreckage that was incurred. It's simply a way to celebrate her life and create new memories.
Marisa walked away with a relaxing family vacation this evening. I walked away in awe and admiration.
This wish is for a 21 year old college junior whose life was interrupted by leukemia. After four non-diagnosis visits finally the news came that she had leukemia. Less than a hour after a doctor visit the phone call came instructing her to go to the hospital immediately. Within hours she was being treated with chemo and subsequently was informed that had she gone undiagnosed and untreated she would have had a maximum of 2 weeks to live. Two weeks.
As she was telling me her story I fought back tears. I listened intently. I admired her strength. I empathized with her mother. Beyond the story of this young woman's battle with leukemia, was her underlying story - her will to live.
There was never a moment that she uttered disgust with her illness going undiagnosed. Never a word about how disappointing it was to lose over a year of her college career. No focus on the 2 years of ongoing treatment that she endured. Rather, she told me how blessed she was. She had the support of her family, her medical team, her friends and her school. She spent the majority of the time talking to me about all of the fantastic people who she met along this journey. How they have inspired her. How she became stronger as a result of it all. She shared information about survivor retreats that she found to be encouraging and how that may benefit future wish recipients that I work with. She talked about the triathlon she is participating in and raising money for to send another cancer survivor to a survivor retreat. Her focus was not on her illness. She as clearly fueled with the passion of helping others who have and are going through the same thing.
Throughout this conversation her mom would pop in and join for a few moments. She had to work and was waiting our table so she could be a part of this trip unveiling. As I revealed the details of the trip, the tears were welling in Marisa's mother's eyes. You see, Marisa just had her port removed last week after 2 years of chemo. This along with a trip to the Florida Keys signified a new beginning. New memories. A bright future. Mom kept telling me that this was "too much." "It's too much. That is so much money. It's too much. You have no idea what it means to us." By this point the tears had erupted from everyone at the table. It's not too much. In fact, it's not enough. Nothing can erase the time that this illness took away from this family. The damage it did to Marisa's body. The emotional wreckage that was incurred. It's simply a way to celebrate her life and create new memories.
Marisa walked away with a relaxing family vacation this evening. I walked away in awe and admiration.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Expectations
Expectations are a hell of a thing to live up to. Your own. Others'. They can make you feel like you are on top of the world when you meet or exceed them. Or, they can suck you into a self-loathing abyss when you don't quit hit the mark.
On my run Saturday with Jill I had the expectation to run 8 miles. This is always established up-front so you push toward a goal. I can tell you, I did not meet the 8 mile mark. I came up short. The reality of that run was that either allergies or recycled airplane air wreaked havoc on my sinuses - hence making breathing difficult. I just couldn't get enough air. I was completely frustrated as I had to walk throughout the course of that run and with each walk-break becoming more annoyed with myself. I kept apologizing to Jill as she stayed next to me throughout what would become a 10k. Her response was always that it was fine. Not a big deal. Just happy to be spending time together.
Jill's expectation was a bit different than mine - her focus was spending time together. Mine was completing an eight-mile run. Despite the utter frustration associated with my lack of performance, I walked away from that experience thinking that I really just need to set the expectation that I'm spending time with my friends and getting a decent work-out as a fringe benefit. Maybe, just maybe, setting a lighter expectation will yield a more impressive result.
On my run Saturday with Jill I had the expectation to run 8 miles. This is always established up-front so you push toward a goal. I can tell you, I did not meet the 8 mile mark. I came up short. The reality of that run was that either allergies or recycled airplane air wreaked havoc on my sinuses - hence making breathing difficult. I just couldn't get enough air. I was completely frustrated as I had to walk throughout the course of that run and with each walk-break becoming more annoyed with myself. I kept apologizing to Jill as she stayed next to me throughout what would become a 10k. Her response was always that it was fine. Not a big deal. Just happy to be spending time together.
Jill's expectation was a bit different than mine - her focus was spending time together. Mine was completing an eight-mile run. Despite the utter frustration associated with my lack of performance, I walked away from that experience thinking that I really just need to set the expectation that I'm spending time with my friends and getting a decent work-out as a fringe benefit. Maybe, just maybe, setting a lighter expectation will yield a more impressive result.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Apples + Trees
How does that saying go - "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Indeed, I have found this to be true with my two "apples." Their sharp minds and quick wit never cease to amaze me. And, it typically tends to amuse me.
Apparently there is no such thing as aging gracefully - not in this house.
Sidney: "Mommy, what are those lines by Daddy's eyes when he laughs?"
Me: The lines by his eyes?
Sidney: "Yea, you know...when he smiles or laughs they show up here." (she points to the outside of her eyes as she squints and smiles in the mirror to demonstrate.)
Me: Ahh, those. We call those crow's feet, Sidney.
Sidney: "Daddy sure has a lot of 'the' crow's feet on his face. And you have a few too."
Me: Top of the morning to you too, Sidney.
My words are used against my by my little man...say it ain't so!
Ashton: "Mommy, will you get me some peanut butter?"
Me: No. I'm busy doing your laundry. Would you like to do your laundry while I get your peanut butter?
Ashton: "No, Mommy."
With a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face he says, "I'm just a baby, Mommy. We don't do laundry."
Me: Touche. But, you're getting your own peanut butter.
Funny how these kids have become such smart asses at such a young age. I'll take it though. My spirited children.
Apparently there is no such thing as aging gracefully - not in this house.
Sidney: "Mommy, what are those lines by Daddy's eyes when he laughs?"
Me: The lines by his eyes?
Sidney: "Yea, you know...when he smiles or laughs they show up here." (she points to the outside of her eyes as she squints and smiles in the mirror to demonstrate.)
Me: Ahh, those. We call those crow's feet, Sidney.
Sidney: "Daddy sure has a lot of 'the' crow's feet on his face. And you have a few too."
Me: Top of the morning to you too, Sidney.
My words are used against my by my little man...say it ain't so!
Ashton: "Mommy, will you get me some peanut butter?"
Me: No. I'm busy doing your laundry. Would you like to do your laundry while I get your peanut butter?
Ashton: "No, Mommy."
With a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face he says, "I'm just a baby, Mommy. We don't do laundry."
Me: Touche. But, you're getting your own peanut butter.
Funny how these kids have become such smart asses at such a young age. I'll take it though. My spirited children.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Pop Quiz
I was putting Ashton to bed and as I began to walk out the door, the
quiz began. "Mommy, where did I get 'Roar'?" Roar is a dinosaur with a
highly imaginative name. "You got Roar from Disney, Buddy. The T-Rex
Cafe." "Oh, that's right. I forgot." I'm not completely convinced that
he forgot, but I saw an opening with the quiz game, so I decided to
seize the moment.
"Ashton, do you remember where you got 'Baby'?" He looks at me and shakes his head no. Baby is a Ty Beanie Baby sea otter that rests safely under Ashton's chin every night. Every night. "You got him from the hospital when you had to have your tubes put in your ears." The light bulb pops on. "Oh, that's right...I got him from the hospital when I had to wear tiger pajamas." This is something that he doesn't actually remember, but rather visits through a photo that I have of him in said PJ's in the waiting room of Children's Hospital.
Round two for Mom...and this one is important. I truly had a sensation of butterflies before I asked the question for fear that he wouldn't remember. And not remembering is not an option - he simply must remember. This is a crucial question. "Buddy, do you remember who got you Froggy?" Froggy is a stuffed treasure who lies on Ashton's right ear each night. A smile cracks from each corner of his mouth and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mommy...Granddad got me Froggy when I was a baby." A sigh of relief. "Yes, Ashy, Granddad got you Froggy. Do you know why he got you Froggy?" He shakes his head no, but is clearly interested in an explanation. "When you were still a baby in Mommy's belly we told Granddad your name would be Ashton William Daniel. Do you know what Granddad's name is, Buddy?" Again he shakes his head but is filled with curiosity. "His name is William. Just like you - it's William." The smile breaks across his face and his eyes glimmer as he realizes that he is named after someone. His Granddad. This man who loved Ashton more than life itself.
He remembers.
"Ashton, do you remember where you got 'Baby'?" He looks at me and shakes his head no. Baby is a Ty Beanie Baby sea otter that rests safely under Ashton's chin every night. Every night. "You got him from the hospital when you had to have your tubes put in your ears." The light bulb pops on. "Oh, that's right...I got him from the hospital when I had to wear tiger pajamas." This is something that he doesn't actually remember, but rather visits through a photo that I have of him in said PJ's in the waiting room of Children's Hospital.
Round two for Mom...and this one is important. I truly had a sensation of butterflies before I asked the question for fear that he wouldn't remember. And not remembering is not an option - he simply must remember. This is a crucial question. "Buddy, do you remember who got you Froggy?" Froggy is a stuffed treasure who lies on Ashton's right ear each night. A smile cracks from each corner of his mouth and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mommy...Granddad got me Froggy when I was a baby." A sigh of relief. "Yes, Ashy, Granddad got you Froggy. Do you know why he got you Froggy?" He shakes his head no, but is clearly interested in an explanation. "When you were still a baby in Mommy's belly we told Granddad your name would be Ashton William Daniel. Do you know what Granddad's name is, Buddy?" Again he shakes his head but is filled with curiosity. "His name is William. Just like you - it's William." The smile breaks across his face and his eyes glimmer as he realizes that he is named after someone. His Granddad. This man who loved Ashton more than life itself.
He remembers.
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