When my children are playing with their friends and come whining to me about heated disagreements, I encourage compromise and send them back to negotiate peaceful, constructive solutions. When they are misinformed, I immediately set the record straight. When they are rude and disrespectful, I demand apologies and call for a time out. When they lie, they are called out and swiftly punished. When they have a job to do -- especially an important one -- I hold their nose to the grindstone until it gets done to the best of their ability.
Why would we do anything less with our elected officials who exhibit the same bad behavior?
I've never been big into celebrating my birthday. When I was a kid, my mom threw great birthday parties -- I had a puppet show, a chocolate making party, a disco party and the requisite sleep-over party. But for my entire adult life, I've been content with some cards from my family, a kiss from my husband and kids and my annual birthday dinner tradition. But working on the American Cancer Society's campaign for more birthdays has made me realize that my birthday should mean a whole lot more.
There was a time when I wasn't sure I would ever celebrate more birthdays. Just before my 23rd birthday, I was diagnosed with stage IVb Hodgkin's Disease, a lymphoma in its advanced stages. Fortunately, even 17 years ago Hodgkins was a very cure-able cancer and I had a good prognosis, even in the advanced stages. But there were absolutely no guarantees. What's more, there were no guarantees that chemo would spare my ability to have kids later on.
But 16 birthdays for me and 15 birthdays collectively for my kids later, I'm still here. I've been so fortunate to lead a very normal life since. I wish I could say that after having a life-threatening illness I never take my life for granted -- to me the luxury of surviving cancer meant that I COULD get swept up in the small stuff just like any normal person does. But lately I've realized that maybe I've taken my birthday too much for granted. I especially realize this when I remember my cousin, my colleague's sister and too many others -- all vibrant young mothers in their 40s lost to cancer who can never again celebrate more birthdays with their loved ones like I can.
So for my big birthday coming up -- the big 4-0 -- I'm blowing it out. We're talking major party with catering, entertainment -- the works. And maybe we'll even take a family trip to Europe. And while I'm having fun, I'll be dedicating my birthday to creating a world with more, so that everyone take their birthdays for granted in a cancer-free future.
An original Deep South Moms blog post. When she's not planning her 40th birthday blow-out, she'll be blogging at her personal blog, Up With Moms.
To parents, birthdays are momentous occasions. We often find ourselves
caught up in the craziness of planning birthday celebrations -- rounding up
clowns and jumpy things, tracking down the perfect birthday cakes and
presents, trying to decide how to celebrate our 29th birthday for
the tenth time. But at the heart of it, birthdays represent very special
milestones, important and often poignant markers of time in our families'
and friends lives.
To the American Cancer Society and anyone who has faced a
deadly disease like cancer, birthdays represent a different kind of marker --
one of progress. More than 11 million cancer survivors will celebrate a
birthday this year, thanks to the progress we've made against the
disease. To many of us, "Happy Birthday" is a victory song, because a
world with less cancer is a world with more birthdays. And that's definitely
something to celebrate.
Join us throughout the day as these posts go up. Who knows what our
bloggers will write about. They may make you laugh...they may make you
cry (kinda like at your last birthday party!). You may even get some
great birthday tips! Look below the fold for a round up of all the posts on Birthdays!
The case for health care reform is so obvious to me that I can't believe we're debating the need. Right now, insurance companies -- NOT you, me or your doctor -- are dictating what kind of care we can get. Unnecessary care -- tests your doctor may order as a CYA measure to protect him/herself from medical malpractice -- result in medical waste and higher health care costs for us all. We -- you and I, the average tax payer -- already bear the tremendous cost burden of unpaid medical bills that result in higher health care costs, higher insurance premiums and higher taxes. This medical debt doesn't just come from the un- and under-insured or illegal immigrants, but from hardworking insured Americans who found themselves in the unfortunate situation of having to avail themselves of the health care system but could not afford skyrocketing costs of care.
Watch my story -- it's the story of someone who had good insurance and quality medical care and STILL paid too high a price for treating a life-threatening illness. And then ask yourself if you could afford to find yourself in a situation like mine.
We already pay too high a price for a broken health care system -- a system where people go bankrupt or even die because they can't afford the care they need -- why would we not want to fix it? Why would we not want to fix it NOW when it is the single biggest drain on our economy and on American families, at a time when families are struggling the most? Health care reform isn't a separate issue from the economy -- it IS the economy.
I so hope all moms and all Americans take time to educate themselves on the issues and consider the source when they do. Understand that the mainstream media and TV pundits are more interested in gaining ratings than presenting a full and balanced view of all the issues. Beware of politicians that have more to gain politically by blocking reform and ensuring this administration fails than in finding solutions for real Americans. Look past the rhetoric and soundbites -- claims of "socialism," and "death panels" -- designed to scare us into inertia. This is not a referendum on government intrusion -- this is about ensuring people have the care they need. This is about us and what we need for our families, not about this President or this administration. We can debate the details, but first understand the facts. Then decide for yourself.
Despite the rhetoric, I'm optimistic that we will have health care reform, but realize it will ultimately be compromise legislation. I'm all for bi-partisan cooperation, but worry about whether the ultimate outcome will be effective enough to truly make a difference. Will it effectively cover the uninsured and drive down costs in the medical system so that I can afford my coverage and my medical bills? Will it truly find waste in the system to offset the costs of reform so that we don't end up with a soaring deficit? Will it eliminate the issue of the pre-existing condition that hangs over my head, potentially preventing me from getting coverage in the future?
Whatever it will be, I'm hopeful that it'll at least be a step in the right direction. We simply can't afford to do nothing. We're already paying too high a price.
An original Deep South Moms blog post. When she's not researching the issues around health care, Amy@UWM can sometimes be found blogging at her personal blog, Up With Moms.
That tummy ache
you have, it's just a nervous tummy.
It's because you're a little
scared of this new experience, that's all. A lot of people get
nervous when they do something new.
I know you're a little shy.
It's ok to be shy, but you can't let being shy stop you from doing
things that you might really like.
All you have to do is be yourself.
You never have a problem making friends. I know you're going to have
so much fun. All you have to do is be yourself and have fun.
The
worrying is really the worst part – it always seems scarier than it
really is.
I'm really proud of you for trying something new. I know
you're going to have a great time.
-- the speech I gave my 6 year old last week on her first day of gymnastics camp. Coincidentally, it's the same speech I'll be giving myself next week on the way to BlogHer.
An original Deep South Moms blog post. When she's not parsing out words of wisdom to her children or bucking herself up for blogging conferences, Amy@UWM can be found blogging at her personal blog Up With Moms.
Growing up, I dreamed of having a sister. My little brother was ok as far as little brothers went, but I longed for someone to show me the ropes, someone I could share clothes and makeup with not to mention my innermost girly secrets. So when our second daughter was born, I was thrilled that my girls would have that special relationship I never had. But 6 years into watching their relationship, I'm not so sure I wasn't better off.
My girls are typical sisters -- best friends one minute, screeching at alarmingly high frequencies at each other the next. The little one worships the big one and the older one swings between utter frustration and genuine affection for her little sis. But what's been most surprising is how intense the relationship is and just how much it rules each of their lives.
Last weekend, I watched "The Nanny Diaries." It was an enjoyable movie, but, MAN, it gives us moms with nannies a bad name.
I've always felt a little weird about having a nanny. When I was little and imagined myself as a mom, I never saw a nanny in the picture. I always imagined families that had nannies were much like what's portrayed in that movie or in the Sound of Music -- uber rich with the mom nowhere in the picture. And although we've had a nanny for the last nine years -- it's been the best childcare option for us as I've tried to hang on to my career with my fingernails -- I still find myself choking on the words a bit every time I mention to someone that we have one.
I know I'm nothing like that Mrs. X in "Nanny Diaries." I'm involved in my kids' lives -- I know what's happening with school, their friends and their lives in general. I volunteer in their classrooms and for Brownies, am at every performance and there for every major milestone. I have strict boundaries for what's appropriate for nannies -- only parents are allowed to be with the kids at doctors and dental appointments and no nannies during vacations. Weekends are also nanny-free and filled with the usual kid-oriented activities -- birthday parties, soccer games, swimming, movies or play dates. And it's Hubby or I that read the kids stories and tuck them into bed almost every night.
It was one of those moments every working mother dreads -- our 6 year old was running a fever on the day one of the biggest projects of my career was set to launch. I looked at my husband and anxiously said, "I HAVE to go to work today." Hubby, who tends to lean toward "Let's just ply her with Tylenol and send her on her way" but couldn't argue with a fever, agreed with a resigned sigh to stay home with our daughter so I could get to the office.
Normally I'm the one who stays home with the kids when they're sick. It's easier for me to do it because I can often work from home without it being too much trouble while Hubby prefers to work only from his office. So when I mentioned to an acquaintance that I felt bad about asking Hubby for help and for putting the burden of our sick daughter on him, she said something that made a light bulb go off in my head,
"You can't think of it as putting a burden on him. You're engaging him in solving a problem that the two of you have together."
When I was a kid, my mom talked on the phone. A lot. Every day, she'd spend what seemed like hours talking to a different friend, updating them on the latest happenings in our lives, listening to their family travails and then usually ending the call by making plans to get together on a Saturday night. She was on the phone so much that I could almost recite what she was going to say since she repeated her stories almost the exact same way to every friend. I remember the limbo-like way we had to navigate around the long phone cord (remember a time BEFORE cordless?) that allowed her to walk around our kitchen and still talk on the phone.
Lately I'd been feeling guilty for spending so much time in front of my computer. When I once I asked my kids what I was good at, they said, "Typing." But when I found myself explaining the difference between Facebook and Twitter to my mom, and she asked me "When do you have time to do this?" I realized I didn't have anything to feel guilty about.
Last week I brought cupcakes over to my kids' school to celebrate my 6 yo daughter's birthday with her kindergarten class. I'll never forget the way The Boss' face lit up and she bounced around with pride and excitement as I walked in with a huge box of chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing and colorful sprinkles (thank you, Publix!).
As I sat with her class for lunch, her friends vied for my attention calling me, "Boss' mom." The Boss sat next to me grinning from ear to ear while her best friend regaled me with tales of her new parakeet and another little boy in the class told me all about his attempts to become a swim champion. I got to see the dynamics of the class and some of the teachers in action. I even got to say a quick hello to my 9 yo daughter (who also lit up when she saw me) and give her a quick kiss and a cupcake when she walked into the cafeteria as the kindergartners walked out.
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