CoffeeJitters » parenting

Three

Judy Schwartz Haley — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 18:22:42 +0000

Yesterday, my little girl turned three (yes, she shares a birthday with William Shatner). Today, I’m making calls trying to find a venue for her birthday party.

I’m that on top of things.

How important is it to throw a party anyway? I didn’t even think it was on her radar, but then a few weeks ago, as my daughter was explaining to a random cafe customer that she’s almost three and going to have a birthday party with a cake and presents and candles and new dress and and and [deep breath] and and and and – it occurred to me that I do have responsibilities in this department – and apparently, this year, she has expectations.

I was in the same boat last year with school, and fatigue, and bills, and everything-all-at-once. I even wrote about my frustration in deciding to postpone her birthday party till April last year, because I just couldn’t do it in March. And then the birthday party never happened. Too much everything. I can’t let that happen twice in a row.

And, I know this is a taboo topic but, I don’t know how many birthdays I will have with her. I can’t promise her I will always be here for her. I’m not planning on going anywhere, of course, but I got a big wake-up call with this cancer diagnosis. I need to cherish every moment I have with her. I can’t promise tomorrow, but I can give her today.

So what about school and everything else? I can’t count how many times a day I ask myself what the right thing to do is, and I don’t know the answer. In the moment, when she’s desperate for my attention, I want to say forget school. So what if that paper is due in 4 hours? When I sit back and look at the big picture, school is just so important. Hopefully it will help increase my earning ability, but more importantly, it’s an education. An education is so much more than just vocational school, and the more classes I take, the more I understand this. It’s critical. And I want my daughter to see that, come hell or high water (and I feel like I’ve seen both recently), I got an education. But attendance in school isn’t just about an education, either. We depend on my student loans to pay the rent. As much as it’s digging us deeper into debt, it’s also my way of helping to keep us housed and fed. Hopefully, someday it will pay off by leading to a decent paycheck.

But, I also want her to understand how important she is to me. When I hear her say phrases like “I’m trying to get this done,” “I have work to do,” and “In a minute,” my heart breaks a little bit because I know exactly where she’s getting them.

So I’m going to throw her a birthday party. I know it wont make up for all that time with my nose in a book, but it’s important. It’s important to her, and it’s important to me. It won’t happen till April, but this time, I’ll make sure it happens.

And the gift? One of our little traditions is right before bed she picks out what she wants to dream about; we can get quite fanciful, because amazing things can happen in dreams and anything is possible. More often than not, her choice of dreams involves dancing, and several times she has chosen to go dancing in an orange dress, and holding orange flowers. (Before this, I had no idea she even liked orange, but I think it’s becoming a favorite color). The other day we were at the store and she ran right up to an orange dress and said “I danced in this dress in my dream.” I think I need to find her an orange dress.

Also, is orange the big color this year? I seem to be seeing it everywhere.

Who she saw

Judy Schwartz Haley — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 18:38:19 +0000

She saw a woman with kind eyes and a big smile who was happy to play peek-a-boo with her.

I saw a homeless woman with brown teeth grinning at my little girl.

*Stranger Danger* [Insert helicopter-mom posture here]

Seriously, what was I afraid of? Their exchange was completely innocent, and grounded in sharing joy. There was a full table width between them. Why the fear? Why did all my red flags go up? Am I really that shallow?

When we talk about listening to our gut, how do we know the difference between intuition and prejudice? Bigotry can feel a lot like instinct.

I consider her again as my daughter continues to play peek-a-boo and talk to her. She’s warming her hands around a cup of tea in a Pioneer Square coffee shop. Her clothes were tattered, but appeared clean. The coat had seen better days, as had her shoes. The clothes in the bags around her feet were faded, but neatly folded…

Oh, good grief. Really, Judy? Is that the best you can do?

I had to look back a couple times before I saw not what, but whom my daughter saw: A woman with kind eyes and a big smile who was happy to play peek-a-boo with my little girl.

I’ve got a lot of learning to do.

Dear Gem – Month 30

Judy Schwartz Haley — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 00:45:42 +0000

The weather turned since the last time I wrote one of these letters to you. In just a couple months we went from temperatures in the 80s to frosty mornings and piles of multicolored leaves on the ground. You’ve changed so much, grown up so much, in that little bit of time.

You notice the change in the trees. You notice the weather. You notice so many things that just a couple months ago would have slipped right past you. I have to be a little more careful now. And watch my tongue. Not that I am the kind of person who would thoughtlessly say things in your presence that I wouldn’t want you to repeat. ahem.

The past few months have been pretty busy. Especially October. I’ve taken to calling it Pinktober, because breast cancer awareness month takes over everything, no matter what else we’ve got going on.

As if I wasn’t already all too aware of breast cancer.

I have a feeling that this is going to be a part of a new pattern in our lives, that we will need to learn to just brace ourselves for Pinktober every year. We’ll learn to let the wave of pink wash over us without dredging up too much trauma, while embracing the opportunities that come in at the same time. We need to remember that Pinktober is a time of reunion with those who have become close friends in this breast cancer battle, it’s also a time to celebrate life, and raise some money to help all those who will be diagnosed in the year ahead.

When I see myself in your mannerisms, the things you say, the way you turn a phrase, it reminds me that one of my most important tasks as your mother is to be a role model. And that responsibility has become a critical part of my decision making process.

Some people pay lipservice to the old WWJD: What Would Jesus Do? I take a different approach. When faced with a difficult decision, I ask WWIWGTD: What Would I Want Gem To Do? But I’m asking that question for real. I consider this question in all different aspects of my life from brushing my teeth even if I’m staying in bed all day, to how I interact with friends and strangers, to how I research and take a position on an issue, to how I react when people are cruel to me.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m letting you make my decisions. I need to make choices that are healthy for me, and I want you to learn to make decisions that are healthy for you.

The net result of all this is that I am living my life more mindfully because of you. I’m making more thoughtful decisions. I’m taking better care of my body. I now respond differently when people try to walk all over me, and while some may not like that change, I know it’s a change that needed to be made.

You inspire me to be a better person.

Thank you

I love you so much

Mommy

Recalled

Judy Schwartz Haley — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 00:34:54 +0000

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen posts or tweets about breastfeeding over the past year that were not just touting the proven benefits of breast feeding, but taking a pointed, judgy stance on the issue. Statements about breastfeeding related facts might be buried in the article, but the hooks? the one-liners? they’re just polarizing rhetoric. They don’t come right out and state that you are a bad mom if you don’t breastfeed, but the wording draws the reader right to that conclusion. Some of the posts and tweets try to get funny with the issue, but they come across with the same message. They probably don’t even have a clue how their message is coming across.

There was another one today; this is an old one that makes it’s rounds every 4 months or so… “True Story: I don’t have to worry about toxins in breastmilk. And there’s never been a recall on my boobs”

My boobs were recalled while I was breastfeeding. And you can bet I lost a lot of sleep over how many cancer cells my baby ingested from breastfeeding before I knew I had cancer.

Dairy Free Fake Boob

Don’t get me wrong. I am completely in favor of breastfeeding. I believe it is the best source of nutrition and immunity support available to a baby. But there are as many valid reasons for not breastfeeding as there are in favor.

There’s no way I could list them all here – there are too many stories out there, and no way I can know them all. Breast cancer stopped me. How about adoptive mothers? Sometimes the breasts just don’t work correctly, they’re not able to produce. Have you ever wondered why the role of wet-nurse was recognized in cultures all throughout history? The world is full of incorrect ideas about AIDS and how it is spread. We stupidly avoid handshakes and hugs, while we overlook the fact that breastmilk is a proven means of spreading HIV. What would you do if you were a breast feeding mother, and found out you might have been exposed to blood borne pathogens at work? Would you stop breast feeding? It has happened.

Breastfeeding in public? I did it for 11 months. Not one incident. I did make sure that I wasn’t flashing around body parts that I wouldn’t flash around if there wasn’t a baby attached. No one was cruel to me about breast feeding in public. I’ve heard it happens, and that’s really too bad. Any awkwardness I experienced was on my own part, trying to figure out how to get the baby attached with limited visibility, etc… It wasn’t about anyone else. No, the comments came after I was no longer able to breastfeed.

If you’re a new mom, you do what’s right for you and your baby. That’s your business, nobody else’s. If breastfeeding is right for you and your baby – do it! If it’s not, don’t.

Getting used to all of the people (even strangers) who suddenly thought my body and my baby were their business was the biggest adjustment for me through pregnancy, and motherhood. Just draw a bubble around yourself, and imagine all the comments and criticisms just bouncing off that bubble. You see, no one is really an expert. Parenting is on the job training, and the skills required are different for each child. That lady who just came over and said she raised 13 kids? She’s not an expert, either. Not an expert on your baby, anyway.

Love your baby. Wake up every morning, and try again. Everything is going to be ok.

The world according to a toddler

Judy Schwartz Haley — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 16:47:06 +0000

1. If I see it, it’s mine

2. If I think about it, it’s mine

3. If I like the show I want to watch it 30 times. In a row.

4. If you suggest it, I don’t want it. Until I forget you suggested it, and think it’s my idea.

5. Stolen food tastes better

6. That baby in the mirror is pretty awesome

7. Mommy and Daddy are all-powerful

8. I can wrap Mommy and Daddy around my little finger

9. If that fails, there’s Grandma

10. Everything is amazing

Dear Gem – Month 25

Judy Schwartz Haley — Tue, 10 May 2011 07:37:48 +0000

The first rule of getting along with other people after you become a parent is don’t brag about your child all the time. Or ever, actually. I break that rule every day. I’m one of those annoying moms – always trotting out the latest cute or amazing thing that my gorgeous little girl did. If I wasn’t your mom, I’d nauseate you. Actually, I’m sure your tweener, teen, and early adult years will be consumed by me nauseating you. It’s in the job description. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

So here I am, a mommy blogger, discussing rules about how parents shouldn’t brag about their kids all the time. But, again, it’s in the job description. I mean, really, if your mom isn’t utterly amazed by you, over the moon about you, if your mom doesn’t brag about you… who will? I don’t want to follow this train of thought too far, because the sad truth is that some kids don’t, for whatever reason, have someone who really goes to bat for them. Part of me wonders if this is the reason for the previously mentioned rule, but I know better. This rule rests on a much more shallow foundation.

The truth is, bragging moms are annoying.

On the other hand, if there is one place on earth I should be allowed to brag about my darling daughter, it should be on my own blog, in a letter directly to her. Prepare to be annoyed.

To lighten things up a bit, I’m going to limit this letter to bragging about about the adorable things you do imperfectly.

There is nothing that makes my heart smile quite like watching you put your green Hello Kitty rain boots on the wrong feet and dancing around the living room.

You pronounce applesauce and princess exactly the same way (“sausaus”).

I didn’t think you knew any numbers above ten, but last night we were looking at a book, and when we got to page 25, you said “five-twent.” I was sure I heard that wrong, but you turned the page and then said “six-twent.”

At the store the other day we were looking at stuffed animals, and you picked up the rhinoceros and called it a triceratops. How does a 2 year old store a four syllable word about a dinosaur with horn on it’s nose, and retrieve it at the appropriate time? I don’t care if you were wrong about the rhinoceros, I’m just blown away that you were wrong in such a cool way. I could never tell the dinosaurs apart (in fact, I had to go online and look it up), but from now on, I will always remember that the triceratops has a horn like a rhinoceros. See, parents learn things from their kids all the time.

I hope this doesn’t make you feel like you’ve been made fun of. Perfect is boring. It’s also an illusion. You can spend your life chasing perfection, but when it comes down to it, when you take stock of what you really love about someone, what makes your heart swell, generally the imperfections weigh in pretty heavily. That’s not to say you shouldn’t try your best, or try to improve. It means don’t be afraid to fail; don’t be afraid to try something because you won’t be perfect the first time. It means don’t let your stumbles paralyze you. Pick yourself up, and keep dancing, even if your boots are on the wrong feet.

Imperfections make us unique, approachable, and lovable. And you, my darling daughter, are infinitely lovable.

I love you so much,

Mommy

Two

Judy Schwartz Haley — Tue, 22 Mar 2011 18:48:53 +0000

There are stairs on the other side of this platform, but she doesn’t care. She does it her way.

Often that means the hard way.

She loves to explore.

she gets exasperated by her dear old mom, with that obnoxious camera

she vacillates between outgoing and shy

and most any problem can be solved by some time in a swing with a dinosaur.

My baby girl turns two today. I guess I can’t call her a baby anymore.

Happy Birthday, Baby. (ok, I’m going to keep calling her baby till she makes me stop, and maybe, accidently, after that, too)

Dear Gem – Month 23

Judy Schwartz Haley — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 03:42:36 +0000

Today is the one year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. This is actually a big day for me. It’s the anniversary of the day my life was turned inside out, and it has put me on a wild emotional roller coaster ride. Thinking about this cancerversary has eaten up all my energy and focus lately – right in the middle of midterms for my school and due dates for my other writing projects, as well as finals for daddy’s school, and his preparation for teaching classes next quarter, and all the other urgencies and emergencies we tackle day after day. Here we are less than two weeks away from your second birthday, and I’m just now getting around to writing this letter for your 23rd month. I haven’t even started planning your birthday party.

Don’t go thinking you are being neglected. You are by far the best part of my day – the one I will drop everything for, no matter what.

But it’s important to know that there are times when life is like this. There are times when everything seems to be coming at you from all different directions, right while you’re dealing with an emotionally heavy load, and you just can’t seem to get anything done. Forget everything, it’s hard to accomplish even one thing. It’s hard to focus; when you react to one urgency, 3 more show up right away from other arenas. You bounce from crisis to crisis, putting out fires without ever touching those all important items on your to do list…

Yup, everybody has days like that. It’s part of the human condition.

That is the most important thing to know about this situation. That when you are overwhelmed like this, you are not alone. Everyone else has been there, they know what it feels like. The details may differ, but the everything-all-at-once-ness of it is universal.

Lately, you’ve taken to holding your little hand up, palm out, and telling me to “Stop” when things aren’t going quite the way you think they should. I’m not quite sure where you got that from, it’s not something that I do, but that idea might be right where you need to start in order to get through a situation like this. Well, without the hand gesture. Most grownups don’t respond very well to that particular gesture. But take a minute. Stop everything. You might even need to tell people that unless someone is bleeding or on fire, you need 5, or 10, or 50 uninterrupted minutes to sort things out. Lock yourself in a closet if you have to, and take some time for yourself.

Taking a long walk is also a great option, if you’re in a place where you can do that. An outdoors walk is best. Yoga is also a great option for releasing nervous energy and helping you regain focus.

Then once you’ve expended a good bit of that nervous energy, come back and pull out a notepad and start writing. Write whatever. Anything and everything that comes into your head. Just dump it all. Let it all out. I call this the brain dump. I got the idea from the Artist’s Way, where you start each day with writing time. The idea is that all these little stressful bits and pieces of everything that you’re carrying around with you are keeping you from connecting with your creativity. While I don’t necessarily do pages every day in the morning, I do agree with the general idea. I find that all that crap floating around in my brain gets in the way of my productivity as well. So just empty your brain onto the page. Shred the pages when you’re done if you like, this is for you and no one else. You’re just clearing your head of all the noise and static.

Now you can start writing your to do list and prioritizing items. This whole process could be done in half an hour or less, but would likely be more effective if you invested a little more time.

Of course this wont make all those emergencies go away. But it will help you dodge, parry, duck, or deal with all the crap that comes flying at you.

I went through that process myself today, and as a result, I’ve decided that your birthday party is not going to happen in March. And since I have a conference and finals in April, it might even be later. I suppose we could just cancel the party altogether, but I do love getting all our friends and family together, and it doesn’t happen very often. I have also been looking forward to using your birthday party as an opportunity to say thank you to all the people who have been so supportive of us through this entire cancer ordeal (and I can’t bear the thought of missing one of your birthday parties). I still don’t know what I’m going to do as far as that is concerned. I just know I’m not going to put the time and energy into a party for this month.

I have already started rounding up and just telling people you are two years old. There’s a part of me that resists this still, but you are behaving like a two year old. Yes, the temper tantrums, and the back arching, and the constant testing of boundaries, but also a more sophisticated sense of humor, you can count to ten, know all of the letters, and draw these amazing little smiley faces.

We’ve had a rough, and very busy month. You even had your first Emergency Room visit with a significant fever and cold. But we got through it all, and we had a lot of laughs, too.

You bring so much joy to our lives. I’ve had a very difficult year, but there has not been one day since you were born where you did not brighten and improve my day.

I love you so much.

Mommy

Three-Year-Old Beats Breast Cancer

Judy Schwartz Haley — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 02:10:46 +0000

This morning I heard the story of Aleisha Hunter, who was diagnosed with Breast Cancer when she was three years old. I had to rush right home to hug my baby.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I understood that my daughter’s risk for developing cancer was increased, but it didn’t occur to me that she could develop it as a toddler.

That’s an odd thing for me to say; since my diagnosis, I have been drumming in to my friends and neighbors, and everyone with whom I interact online, that no one is too young to get breast cancer. I tell people not to let a doctor, or anyone else, be dismissive of a breast lump or discomfort, or suggest it couldn’t be cancer because of your age. It was easy for me to say a 20-year-old is not too young to get breast cancer, but my mind did not allow me to extend that caution to toddlers.

I spend a lot of time thinking about this diagnosis and how to manage the fear, particularly in reference to my daughter. How do I teach her to live her life at full speed, while still teaching her to take care. I don’t want to teach her to be fearful; I don’t want her to live a life of timidity and fear. On the other hand, I don’t want her to be dismissive of danger. Where do you find that balance? I have thought about teaching her to do breast exams, but the time frame I had in mind was a whole lot closer to puberty. Actually, that probably still wont change. But I want to find ways of discussing breast cancer and breast exams, not as a way of looking for a monster that is to be feared, but just a part of self care, like putting on a seat belt when you get in the car, not an anxious event, but one you wouldn’t overlook either.

But, as in other aspects of parenting, I think the best way to teach her to not let fear take control, to teach her to balance boldness with prudence, is to be a good example.

Hmmm….

I’m nearly done with treatment. I have two weeks left of radiation and then six months herceptin and then I just get on with my life, hoping the beast does not return. I can’t say it will be back to life as usual, because post-cancer life involves a bit of looking back over your shoulder. Post-cancer life means scans every six months to see if the cancer is regrouping for another attack. Post-cancer life means every ache and pain takes on a new meaning, it means asking “Am I being a hypochondriac, or would ignoring this ache be irresponsible?” It means paying extra attention to what lawmakers are doing – will their actions restrict my access to insurance or health care? Heightened awareness is a necessity. The trick, it seems, is to find a way to prevent that focus and attention from becoming a fixation and translating into fear.

And I’ve got to figure this out quick, because I have a little girl watching my every move.

My heart goes out to Aleisha, and her family. She underwent a full mastectomy, inluding lymph node disection, and is expected to make a full recovery. Thinking ahead to those awkward years of puberty and breast development, I hope she is able to develop and maintain a strong and healthy body image, and that she too finds a way to balance boldness with prudence.

I also hope that by spreading this story we can help save more lives. Breast cancer is not a disease of the aged, it can strike at any time. Please check your boobies.

Dear Gem – Month 21

Judy Schwartz Haley — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 10:08:43 +0000

You’ve become quite the little monkey this month, climbing all over everything. You’ve always been a bit of a climber, you were climbing bookshelves as soon as you were walking. But this month, you managed to climb your way right out of your pack ‘n play.

I noticed your kung fu kicks while you were in there. I thought they were cute, but I didn’t realize how productive they were – until you hooked your ankle on the upper edge, and then pulled yourself up and over. Such strength! I watched in slow motion from across the room as you rolled over the top of the rail, and fell to the ground, landing on your feet, deep knee bend, then up to standing with your arms raised high and a big smile on your face. You stuck the landing like a little Olympian.

It was one of those moments where I was immensely proud of you, and at the same time, terrified. I’m not ready for you to be able to roam the house at will. Your crib rails are lower than the pack ‘n play, which means you can get out of your bed as well. I’m not sleeping much since your little triumph – I keep my ears peeled, listening for the midnight pitter-patter of little feet.

Your acrobatics are not limited to the escape act, you’ve also started turning summersaults. It was the funniest thing. You would start out in this deep downward dog pose, with your butt up in the air. You’d just hang there in that inverted position, looking around at the room upside down while rocking back and forth. After you’d done that several times, I decided to help you on over. You thought that was pretty cool! Then you kicked your legs over all by yourself in the slowest summersault imaginable. But, oh, my, what a grin.

I guess Daddy and I are going to have to start saving up some money for gymnastics lessons.

You couldn’t get enough of the tree this Christmas. We only put up a handful of ornaments, and made sure they were all safe for you to play with – but you still weren’t supposed to mess with the tree. I guess it was just to amazing to leave it alone.

Santa (or Sassa, as you call him) brought you toys and books that focused on letters and numbers. That was so perfect because you surprised us with being able to identify numbers in print. At least one through six, or as you pronounce them: none, two, free, foof, sigh, sick. You also know a few of the letters, odd ones like Q, and I. For other letters, I can tell you’re starting to get the picture. You held up a cutout of a C on it’s side and called it a U. Makes sense to me. You held up a V and said Y. How are you learning these letters? I haven’t been teaching you. You are such a little sponge, just soaking up information. Sesame Street is probably helping with that as well.

You are so precocious, and quite a handful. You’ve started asking why. You shush people when you put all your babies down for a nap. On the other hand, you are so sweet. You’ve been very protective of me lately. I’ve had a terrible cough, and every time you hear me cough you come over and say “K?” and keep repeating it until I tell you I’m OK. Then you smile and give me a big kiss. On days when I’m stuck on the couch, you bring one of your blankets (you call them buddies) and cover me up – and of course, give me a big kiss. You are very demonstrative with your affection.

I am so proud of the sweet girl you are becoming.

Love, Mommy