Chicago Moms Blog

The Big C

"The tumor is cancer," wrote my brother via a text message.

I was in Vegas for an 8-day stint with my company and I learned that the tumor that was recently found was indeed cancer. I was hoping that the large mass in his esophagus was benign and that it could be removed with surgery, but my brother’s text proved that the "C" word was back, this time in a much scarier state.

This wasn’t the first cancer battle for my dad. A few years back, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. For some reason back then, the diagnosis didn’t shake me. I felt confident that he would be fine after treatment and he was. He opted to have radium pellets inserted and the tiny bullets did the job.

Messy Houses

This morning I woke up, looked around, and went back to bed.  

My life has officially spung out of control.  Every single room in the house is a mess.

It started 16 years ago when the first child was born. I was much more organized back then.  Each night, I picked up the toys, kept on top of the laundry and took leisurely strolls around the neighborhood with the baby.  The hubby took care of the lawn and painted the trim on the house.  Life was bliss.

Baby number two came into the picture two years later.  We had sold our little ranch and purchased a ranch with a basement.  Life settled into a routine with a toddler and a baby.  The toys were still picked up at night and I even organized them into the bins and toy box.  Life was blissful as the hubby laid down sod in our new backyard and I planted flowers in pots.

Twenty three months later, my youngest child was born at home.  I had a four-year-old, a two-year-old and a new baby.  The hubby cleaned up the toys at night and the oldest kiddo helped by putting them away in the toy box.  There were some days and nights that we simply collapsed exhausted on the couch with the toys strewn about us.  Life was blissfully chaotic.

Uncertain Times: Children and Recession

"I just got laid off," a friend of mine announced last week.  That kind of news has been a common refrain among my friends and family members over the last sixth months and it seems like each month brings a couple more announcements. All around me I see that more and more families are finding themselves in the position of having to cut drastically back to keep a roof over their heads and make it through month to month. It has hit the deaf and hard of hearing community hard-- because it becomes quite difficult to find another job during a recession. Many of our deaf and hard of hearing friends are struggling in jobs that are on the lower end of the pay scale.  Employers are less likely to consider people with disabilities for employment when they have fewer jobs to go around.  During a recession, when companies are cutting back, employers are hard pressed to find funds to accommodate employees with disabilities.

Life is Too Short to Pout All the Time

Many years ago, I began writing for a website that produced product reviews and I had to come up with a personal tagline or quote to reflect something about me.   Mine was simply:  “Life is too short to pout all the time.”  That line came to me years ago, when my kids were four- and two-years old, and my youngest had just been born.   

As you can imagine, life back then with a four-year old, two-year old and a crying baby included days where the kids would pout and whine.   After juggling everyone’s needs, keeping track of who was fed and who needed to be fed, refereeing two fighting toddlers, all this on top of attempting to keep the house in some semblance of order--by the end of the day, I was pouting myself.  As soon as the hubby arrived home from work, I whined and unloaded on him.  Then one day, after a particularly trying day with the three kids, I said to them, “Come on, guys, life is too short to pout all the time.”  We took off for the kitchen and made brownies together.  Soon we were all happily chomping away on warm brownies.

Flying Kites at the Beach

Just a few weeks ago, the hubby and I sat down with two teens and one tween to try and figure out what to do during spring break.  This year, we were fortunate that all three of our kids had spring break during the same week.  The kids attend three different schools in two different districts and last year, none of their days off coincided with each other.

 

I had returned to full time work in January and I had an event to cover toward the end of that spring break week, so we tossed around several different ideas of how to incorporate my work into the vacation.  We settled on taking a road trip to Hilton Head Island, using the family and friends discount from the hotel corporation where my sister worked.  We were fortunate enough to book a hotel right on the sandy shores of Hilton Head and we later learned that we obtained one of the last available units at that hotel. 

AIG Executives Should Give Back Bonuses

Yesterday's news report on the insurance giant AIG really pissed me off.  I know I'm not alone in feeling this way as Twitter, Facebook and the blogs are all showing the emotions of others who are steamed at the thought of a bailed-out bank doling out $165 million dollars in bonuses.  On my Facebook profile this morning, I posted how I felt:

"AIG executives need to step forward and decline those bonuses.  It's the right thing to do."

Within a short time, there were several who responded and shared their outrage as well.

"They have the nerve to ask for a bail out;then turn around and still give bonuses??" 

"And they say that it is in their contract to receive those big bonuses. But as far as I am concerned, the contracts should be voided when you are using taxpayer's money."

According to the Huffington Post, the top 50 executives will receive the bonuses averaging about $112,000 each.  AIG's lawyers insist that that the bonuses have to be paid out as part of their 2008 contracts or the company would face lawsuits.  Seven of the top 50 executives have agreed not to accept the bonus money.

Only seven?

Insurance Companies and Hearing Aids--The Time is Now

There's a drawer in my kitchen that's full of batteries, earmolds, cases, tubes--plus a tube blower.  The drawer holds the vital stuff that powers my family's ten hearing aids.  Yes, that's right. There are five of us with a hearing aid perched on each ear.  Well, make that four of us-- the hubby has a broken hearing aid sitting in the kitchen drawer.  I also have extended family members who sport hearing aids of every kind on their ears.

Thank goodness that insurance companies provide insurance coverage for hearing aids, you may think to yourself.

But they don't.

When the Oldest Kid Starts Driving

I have now entered the scary stage of motherhood.  My oldest son officially is a card-carrying member of the "Behind the Wheel" club, the proud owner of a slip of paper that allows him to operate a moving vehicle in the company of an adult. 

"Do you want to drive home?" I asked him after we left the Department of Motor Vehicles office. 

"Yes!" he said, barely containing the excitement on his face. He grabbed the keys from me and walked around to the driver's side.  As I watched my son get behind the wheel of my van, I found myself wrestling with a kaleidoscope of feelings. 

I wasn't ready for this.

As he moved along the road, I tried to hide my anxiety and calm my pounding heart.  I tried to keep my signs to a minimum, so that he could keep his eyes on the road.

From Part-Time to Full-Time

On Tuesday evening, I'm getting on a plane and heading out for a week of training for a brand new job.  A full-time job as the Sales Manager for CSDVRS, a videophone company.

The last time that I worked full-time was back when my oldest son was born, fifteen years ago.  Yes, that's right.  Fifteen whole years.  When my son was two months old, I went back to work full-time and left him with a trusted friend.  By the end of the first month, I knew I didn't want to continue the 8:30 to 4:30 routine.

Finding Support Through Hands & Voices

"Your son has a severe-to-profound hearing loss," the audiologist said very matter-of-factly.  This was nearly thirteen years ago.  My husband and I were sitting in the office at a local hospital.  It wasn't too much of a surprise, although still a shock, to have our suspicions confirmed.

A few years later, kid number two and three were diagnosed as well.  Suddenly, we were a family with ten hearing aids and an entire kitchen drawer devoted to batteries, tubes and a tube blower.