No More Chemo Kindness

I first met Jason when he was about 14 or 15 years old. He and my son, Kohen, became friends, united by their mutual passion for skateboarding. Jason was quite unlike any of Kohen’s other friends. For one thing, he was about six and half feet tall, had girl-long hair, and a mouth that could rival a sailor. He was also brutally honest, funny, smart, and those big brown eyes had a depth and wisdom beyond his years. He soon became number two son.

 Kohen and Jason

Admittedly, as someone who learns the hard way, he made some poor choices after high-school that derailed him in some ways, but probably accelerated his personal growth and development in other ways. He accepted responsibility, and his punishment, with his usual reflective wisdom (which his mother and I often hoped would become foresight instead of hindsight:). Little did we know how Jason’s experiences would provide him with the strength and endurance needed to face cancer.

Last Christmas, he was diagnosed with Stage 3, Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. He was 21. It had spread to his chest and abdomen. For the next six months he spent every other Wednesday in a chemo chair while a four drug cocktail slowly dripped the equivalent of draino into his veins, scouring away everything in its’ path – we hoped. I was fortunate enough to be his chauffeur on most days. And although I know he dreaded the poking and prodding, the fatigue and sickness, the isolation of sitting in that chemo chair, I looked forward to our time together in the car. We talked about pretty much everything with Jason’s frank and insightful wisdom. I’m not sure who helped who more on those car rides.

On August 15^th, we made what we hoped was our last chemo drive to Hamilton. Then the waiting began. Waiting for the results of the six-month Cat scan. I find it difficult to describe in words, that tension of tempering hope with reality. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Jason. September 5^th was Results Day. On the way I asked Jason, on a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being the greatest despair ever, and 1 being the complete opposite) how disappointed he would be if he needed just a couple more treatments – just to be sure what to expect if the news was not what we hoped. Without hesitation he said, “A ten.” I wasn’t looking forward to the appointment.

Last chemo treatment

 

By the time the doctor came into the room all I could hear was the blood pounding in my head. She began talking about size of the lymph nodes, but ended with, “We can stop the chemo.” I’m pretty sure that’s all Jason heard. Five powerful, hopeful words. The doctor wouldn’t say he was ‘cured’, but definitely in remission! The only thing left to do was decide where to have our celebratory dinner. Jason picked Kelsey’s.

Celebration Dinner

We packed up the car with my six year, Jason’s girlfriend Dana, her son Caleb, and my son’s father, and headed out to celebrate. When our waitress, Danielle, asked us what we were celebrating I almost cried, “As of today, Jason has been declared cancer free.” Then she almost cried. A few moments later she brought out all our appetizers and explained that the manager, Brian Moore, had gifted them in honour of the great news. After dinner he came to shake Jason’s hand and congratulate him. I gave Brian and Danielle dakbands – of course. We took pictures and basked in the glow of kindness. Thank-you Brian. Kelsey’s is now our new favourite restaurant.

Kelsey's kindness

                                                                                                     

The Almost Party Kindness

 
Shortly after we turned 40, a good friend from France, Catherine, expressed (in a manner uniquely french and therefore evocative) how this milestone birthday had triggered waves of self reflection and nostalgia. At the time I was busy getting married (for the second time), moving, blending families, starting a business, and apparently, was not as self reflective as I might have been - sadly for me. However, the intervening ten years have revealed storylines that require some reflection and evaluation. Let me assure you that time flies whether you are having fun or not. Although friends and family were making celebratory plans, I asked them if I could gracefully bow out to take some much needed time for rumination. Their generosity and understanding were the best birthday present ever.

As it turns out one weekend is hardly enough to assimilate the events, loves, losses, and choices of 50 years. So I've decided to take the entire year to celebrate and contemplate. I'll share my discoveries and epiphanies here. To start I'd like to share some of the birthday kindnesses I've experienced so far.

The birthday invite to my Almost Party, made lovingly by the most wonderful, creative genius, Carolin.

    

 Birthday bonfire hosted by one of my bestest, most intriguing, intellectually inspired friends, Michael, and shared with two of my bestest, forever friends extraordinaire, Brian and Eileen.






Me, trying to contain all the love, adoration and gratitude spilling all over my beautiful daughter, Brennyn. She gave me two incredible pieces of art she created, during her studies at OCAD.





This is one of them.....
                                                                   
             

  Then Garrett couldn't wait to give me the "splendid" gifts he loving selected. Apparently he tried on every hat in the store before finally settling on this lovely, white number. Please note the "fabulous" colours of the accompanying necklace!

 I spent this past weekend in Vancouver, celebrating with Kohen and Jaime. Every moment was a treasure. We walked, ate, laughed, ate some more, walked some more, and words can't express how I miss them already....







 

 While in Vancouver I stayed with one of my oldest friends. She has always been, and remains an inspiration to me. She is an artist, a dancer, an entrepreneur, explorer and sage, but to me she is just Ainslie. Thank-you.


And to think, I only have 11 more months to celebrate (and reflect).


        

Jaime Love

 
When I invited Jaime, my son's girlfriend, partner, love, to write about her mother I didn't expect this. I was excited about her contribution because I've listened to her share stories about her childhood, and they were rich, and deep, and magical. I wanted to share that experience with you. I also know that Jaime has a relationship with her mother, Cheri, that expresses beautifully, daughter-mother love. I am incredibly moved that she included me.

Cheri, Happy Mother's Day, today and everyday.

“I told my Mom about you.” Kohen said as we walked along Union street on a crisp Autumn day in Kingston, Ontario. I remember my footing as we cleared the intersection as well as the golden sunshine slinking below the tree-line waiting for dusk. I remember everything from that moment because those words are poignant, saturated with meaning, and resonating to this day.

I have always been close to my Mother. I have always heralded her as this beacon of strength, reason, and compassion. She see’s the world in a spectacular and vibrant way and has taught me to breathe, see, listen, and experience with raw and liberated intention. She was, and continues to be, the first one I call for, cry for, smile for, and love.

I adore Kohen for the ways in which he loves his Mom. He knows what love is, and has learnt it from her. I know that we share this unshakable bond with the women that brought us into this world. Sharing this gives us more reason and strength to love ourselves and each other in ways that are amazingly positive and nurturing. The four of us, while maybe not obvious, share this incredible connection. We all call each other for support, for laughter, for consolation, and for affection. We draw inspiration and wisdom from each other. This gives us strength to put our best selves forward and to project kindness, love, and compassion onto our own individual environments.

Kohen and I know what kindness and love is because of our mothers. We are continuously learning and experiencing while practicing this knowledge so that, we too, can grow older sharing this light.

Jaime makes love feel like a beautiful blanket she has unfolded, and wrapped around your shoulders.
                                                                                                       

Ainslie's Mom

My mom has always volunteered her time. As long as I can remember she has been involved with many worthwhile organizations, from church to seniors homes, and women's groups that support communities locally and overseas. Now, at 80 (something) she still volunteers. She is really remarkable that way. She spreads kindness through her service to others, lending a hand wherever it is needed.

I now volunteer because of her example, and I thoroughly love it!

Ainslie xoxo



Thanks  Ainslie for sharing.

For those of you who are not aware, Ainslie and I have been friends since high-school. Best of friends. From her days as a principle dancer at Ballet British Columbia, to her current role as incredibly successful entrepreneur and business woman (see Ainsliewear), she has been an inspiration - much like her mother Selma, whom I adore. Whenever I get the opportunity to connect with Selma, she has some wonderful story about some wonderful, exotic place just visited. These are some of the most precious gifts I think that she has passed on to Ainslie, her curiosity and adventurous spirit. I feel blessed to be part of their lives.
                                                                                                       

Celebrating My Mother's Kindness

 I don't know how it got to be May already, but the signs are unmistakable: big yellow bags dirt dotting driveways, the sounds of lawn mowers and that intoxicating smell of fresh cut grass, garden centres springing up in parking lots and early morning walkers and runners celebrating sun and warmth after a long, dark winter. And of course, signs and messages everywhere reminding us to celebrate our mothers. So I've decided to do just that, by inviting friends to write a guest post about how their mothers influenced their perception of kindness. Scattered throughout the month we'll share stories and memories celebrating these amazing women.

I'll begin.

When I sat down to consider how my own mother influenced my perception of kindness I realized that the task I'd given so many friends was not as simple as I imagined. Not that I can't think of innumerable ways in which my mother is kind, there are just too many to express easily.  I have many vivid memories of my mother extending herself to the service of others. Yet it is only through hindsight I recognize her selflessness as acts of deliberate kindness. At the time it was just my mother being herself. For example, although she had four children under 5 at home, and we lived out in the boonies, she took a course to help illiterate adults learn to read and write - then she learned to drive so she could go to their homes. She always took care of neighborhood children and families whenever there was a crisis, all the time, cooking, canning, sewing, for her own.

I'll never forget the summer we spent driving to the west coast (and back), camping (in a tent) along the way. Four kids and a car sick Labrador in a station wagon for three long weeks. Somewhere in the prairies we came across a hitch hiker, my mother told my dad to stop and pick him up - how times have changed :) Well, he must have been desperate because he spent the next four days squeezed into the back seat with us. This was my mother, she could spot a stray soul from a distance. She still can. I love that about her. I love everything about her.

And it probably explains why, at sixteen, I showed up at home with two penniless, french guys who were traveling around the world - without even a call to warn my mother that they were with me. They walked into the restaurant where I was working and I could just sense they needed family. They stayed three days (and for years afterward, we received post cards from them, as their adventures continued).

I guess my mother expressed her kindness best through family. She knows that family is not defined by relatedness, but by relationships. Thank-you Mom.

Last year was my parents 50th wedding anniversary - I love this picture of my Mom

                                                                                                       

Upstream Reciprocity

I'm at the library trying to finish my thesis proposal, when I realized that we simply can't let the day go by without acknowledging our American friends' Thanksgiving holiday. Okay call it procrastinating, but that's my story.....

The other day I read a post on my Team Inspire  website (a website that connects patients, families, friends and caregivers for support and inspiration) entitiled, 'Things for Which I'm Grateful'. The author of the post was inviting members to post a short list of things for which they felt grateful, in true Thanksgiving spirit. Interestingly, there were 40 replies, far more than any other post, and keep in mind that these are people and situations that involve serious and sometimes grave health concerns. Despite, or maybe even because of, these serious emotional and physical burdens,the members came together to express and share their gratitude. The most recurrent theme you wonder? Family and friends, hands down. I am encouraged.

I guess it isn't really so surprising given that research suggests an attitude of gratitude has been associated with better health, better sleep patterns, a deeper appreciation of life and even more acts of kindness toward others. So perhaps intuitively, the Team Inspire members know this. But did you know that in an experiment done at North Eastern University, researchers discovered that individuals who had been helped by someone were more likely to engage in 'upstream reciprocity' and help someone else - even a complete stranger. And just in case you're wondering, upstream reciprocity is psychology speak for pay-it-forward! Love it.

So here is my short list of things for which I'm grateful:
- my health - my children - my husband - my morning coffee

I invite you to engage in some upstream reciprocity, dak someone today, and share your grateful list with us.

Commencement Kindness

It’s that time of year. Commencement ceremonies are taking place around the world. Young men and women find themselves at the end, of arguably, the most invigorating time of their lives. Invigorating in the sense that rarely, outside of the four years (plus or minus) of university/college, do the intellectual and social intersect to provide such a consistent, enduring, sense of power, enthusiasm, and attainable vision. Coming to the end of that time is filled with what my five-year-old would call, mixed-emotions. As the dean at my son’s recent, commencement ceremony noted, these mixed-emotions apply equally to parents, as well as, the graduates themselves. I was grateful that he acknowledged me. He wisely quoted Erma Bombeck, “Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After twenty-two years of child-raising, they are unemployed.”

Although my beautiful son, whom I’m sure just yesterday, was crawling up on my lap with a well-loved book, leaping off the couch proudly wrapped in his superman cape, and relentlessly practicing kick-flips on the driveway, was beaming; I spent most of day unsuccessfully choking back tears. Unemployment is an emotional shock.

As such, I was intrigued when I discovered the wonderful (and new favourite) website called, brainpickings. They recently featured, “Words to live by: 5 Timeless Commencement Addresses.” I won’t torture you with my interpretation or synopsis of all five speakers, suffice to say, they are worth a listen. But I will provide you with just a couple treasures that inspired me.

J.K. Rowlings (Harry Potter fame) addressed Harvard graduates in 2008. Her address rekindled my secret longing to have been born British – how else to have such a natural sense of humour, wit, and timing? Jealousy aside, let me leave you with this, “We do not need magic to transform our world, we carry all the power we need inside us already: we have the power to imagine better.”

Then, from Jeff Bezos (founder of Amazon), “It’s harder to be kind, than clever………Cleverness is a gift, kindness is a choice. Gifts are easy — they’re given after all. Choices can be hard. You can seduce yourself with your gifts if you’re not careful, and if you do, it’ll probably be to the detriment of your choices.”

So I would say, in my Commencement address, “ Each of you has the power to profoundly change the world each and every day. You do not have to aspire to greatness, you simply chose to be kind. Imagine that world, then make the choice to create it.”

My son Kohen, and my unemployed self.

5 year old Kindness

On May 1st we moved my daughter, Brennyn, into her very own apartment (that she is sharing with 3 friends), in downtown Toronto. Last year was her first year of University, and although she loved her experience in residence, this is the next Big Step.
Last week my 5 year old, Garrett, and I, were going to the Go station to pick up Brennyn for an impromptu visit. This is our conversation on the way......

Garrett: "Why is Brennyn coming home to visit?"

Mommy: "She is probably hungry."

Garrett: "Don't they have food in Toronto?"

Mommy: "Yes, but you need money to buy food, and Brennyn doesn't have any money."

Garrett: "Don't they have banks in Toronto?"

Mommy: "Yes they do, but you need to have money IN the bank, before you can take it OUT of the bank."

SILENCE

Garrett: "Well, Brennyn can borrow some of my money in my Treasure Chest, as long as she pays me back."

25 million

By chance, I happened to see this evening's 60 Minutes. I say 'by chance' because we don't have cable and only get about 3 channels, so it's not often I'm sitting in front of the TV. But this evening, my husband made a roaring fire (in the fireplace) and I couldn't resist curling up on the couch and looking for something to watch. Now I'm wondering how to share the story. About half way through the segment I began frantically looking for a pen and paper to take notes, but we all know how that turned out.

How is it possible that within a year approximately 25 million American children, 25%, will be living below the poverty line? Right now, that number is about 20 million. In tonite's segment, Homeless Kids: the hard-times generation, Scott Pelly interviews a group of children in Florida whose families have recently become homeless as a result of the recent great depression. These bright, beautiful, articulate, children describe what it's like to go to bed hungry, the shame of living in their mini-van in a WalMart parking lot, having the electricity shut off and doing homework by candle light, the fear of stigma should friends discover their secret, the fear that they are somehow responsible, the shame of seeing your father stand on the side of road with sign - begging for work.

I can tell you that despite the misery, every family, every story, shared a simple dignity, and great love that enabled them to persevere. And like many stories of suffering, there was also a redemptive theme of kindness. To the neighbours who opened their home to family who had lost theirs, we will be sending you dakbands, to the woman who found a job for the father with the sign, we will be sending you dakbands....and to all the families, and children who had the courage to share your story, we will be sending you dakbands. And to the ninety some odd people who left offers of help within moments of the show ending.....your kindness has not gone unnoticed.

Car Show Kindness

I am well aware that the Toronto International Car Show is over, but it has taken this full week to recover from our Family Day experience. Admittedly I am not really a big car fan, my relationship with automobiles is purely utilitarian. Soooo, spending an entire day at an event that involves looking at and appreciating cars doesn't top my list of fun things to do on a rare day off. However, my five year old LOVES cars. Did I say LOVE - that wouldn't quite capture his absolute adoration of anything that has four wheels and an engine. He can name the model (and make) of just about any vehicle on the road, at a glance. For him the car show was heaven.

I want to extend a great big thank-you to all of you who showed such patience kindness during the course of the day. To all of you who waited in long lines to sit in the drivers seat of your dream car, only to have a five year slip under your arm and hop into the seat before you even knew he was there. He really was sincere when he said, "Thanks Mister for opening the door for me." He simply couldn't imagine that you weren't holding the door open for him.

If you are wondering why I didn't try to stop him from butting in, well, that was me you saw running frantically, weaving in-and-out of crowds of people, laden down like pack-horse with coats, purses, bags, trying to figure out which was the Tyota/Ford/etc he was sprinting to next. I never quite caught up. And when I did finally reach the drivers door, he was crawling into the passenger seat, out that door and into the next car. Not once all day did anyone utter a impatient comment, or make him feel anything but thrilled. So, again, Thank-you.
Heaven or Hell - I guess it's all a matter of perspective :)

Here is a picture of our Little Guy (with Luigi)

Kind Memories

James Herriot says in the introduction to his book, James Herriot's Dog Stories: Warm and Wonderful Stories About the Animals Herriot Loves Best, it is a sad truth, that dogs do not live long enough. But he also makes this observation, "It is a reaffirmation of the truth which must console all dog owners; that those short lives do not mean unending emptiness; that the void can be filled while the good memories remain." Thus his advice to clients who are mourning the death of their cherished dog, get another immediately. It has been a week since we had to euthanize our beloved border collie of almost 15 years, Damon. Although we have another dog, Mojo, it is difficult to express how empty our home is without Damon.

I've posted about the innate kindness of dogs before, sharing how much our dogs enrich our lives. Damon was only a few years younger than both of our oldest children, so his life is entwined with theirs. There were few vacations that did not include his exceptional life-guarding skills, or Hallowe'ens that he managed to find and eat all of our daughters' loot. The countless hours we spent playing hide-and-seek in the corn fields behind our first house, the peels of laughter as he pulled the kid's snow boots off and made them chase him across the lawn in their stocking feet, his incredible ability to catch any flying object, and the best party trick ever - he could flush the toilet, are memories that helped to define my children's childhood. He celebrated every holiday, and thankfully, every graduation. He loved not only our family, but all the children's friends over the years, and often made that apparent by trying not so inconspicuously to crawl on to beds, or into the middle of mass of bodies sleeping all over the basement floor.

I'm not sure how long it will take before I stop waking up to let him out in morning, or opening the front door with the expectation that he will be resting against it, or wondering where his food dish is, but let me assure you, it was the kindness of friends and family who supported us this week with their phone calls, cards, emails and hugs, that made the passing of his too-short-life bearable.














In particular, we were touched by the deliberate act of kindness of our daughter's floor mates in residence, who all chipped in to buy her flowers and an ice cream cake.






I'll leave you with a few pictures of our beloved Damon:





Today we went to look at puppies.......

When Timing is Kind, A Quick Goodbye

On Sunday, we took my daughter to university - a day I had been emotionally avoiding for months. Both my children are now officially out-of-the-house - for the time being anyway (I'm told they come back). It seems significant. The greatest part of my job is done. Not sure how I feel about that.

For weeks leading up to Sunday, if I even thought about saying good-bye to my daughter, I'd begin to tear up. I'd also cry thinking about how quiet the house was going to be without her presence, or how awkward it would be to set the table for three instead of four, even seeing her bedroom floor (something I haven't seen in years) made me cry, knowing that all her clothes are now scattered somewhere else. Most of all, I'll miss her day to day kindnesses: her willingness to contribute and help out (most of the time with smile), her sunny disposition which was infectious, her generous babysitting and chauffeur experience, and the "love you"s as she rushed out door.

As the end of the afternoon approached, the new bed was made, the clothes were hanging in their new closet (for the time being), mini fridge was plugged in, lunch was had, the knot in my stomach moved to my throat. I could feel the tears beginning to well up. Suddenly, we all realized that she was late for a mandatory meeting of her new dormitory, and we still had to make a suitcase/computer exchange. She ran upstairs to her room while we ran down into the parking garage, we met back on the main floor with barely time for hug. Then she was gone. There were no tears, no hysterical sobbing, no embarrassing displays of emotion at all - there simply wasn't time. Sometimes timing is everything, if not kind.



Mother and daughter.

When Kindness Hurts

For the past couple of weeks I've had three young adults in the house, two of my own and one visitor from Belgium. Mine include a son and a daughter, the third feels like she is my daughter. They range in age from 18 to 21. (Don't forget I have a four year old as well). Last week there were two break-ups in 24 hours. My two were the dumpees. A coincidence that left me exhausted because of course these estrangements occurred at 3:00 am., and I don't think my snoring would have been interpreted as very comforting while I tried to be as consoling as one can be at that hour of the morning.

Many cups of coffee later, as I pondered the pain and heartache of young love, it struck me that despite two very different manners of dumping, the outcome was the same - sorrow. The first dump arrived by email and was followed up by a bankrupting long-distance phone call. The second was personal, gentle, respectful and even kind.

Then 24 hours later, both dumpees were reunited with their respective boyfriend/girlfriend. Before I had even caught up on any sleep, the tears and the sobs had been replaced by the incessant and familiar clicking of texting keys.

It made me pause though and think about how sometimes even kindness hurts.

Mother's Day

I'm not really certain where I stand when it comes to contrived 'special days' we are forced to celebrate. At the same time I do recognize the value in acknowledging and celebrating, as community, a common theme. And mothering is a great theme, without a doubt.

My family gave me a wonderful day that included a long afternoon nap. Our four year old presented me with a "noisy card" (one of those cards that plays music when you open it). A special 'noisy card'. It had a recording of his voice, "Happy Mother's Day Mom. I love you. This is Garrett." He spent the afternoon opening and closing the card, amazed that somehow it had captured his voice, until I eventually wrestled it from his hands and found myself cursing Hallmark. Our oldest son recorded me a CD of his favourite music, and a DVD of the first three episodes of the Modern Family (VERY FUNNY). Our daughter made a scrumptious dinner and surprised me with a gift certificate for a manicure and a pedicure. I feel blessed, and spoiled.

Then I think of my Mom, who has been staying with us from Monday to Friday, since she arrived home from Arizona at the beginning of April. She has been watching over me, making certain I follow doctor's instructions, and generally reassuring me that eventually life will get back to normal. All this, while making dinners, doing the laundry, tidying up and sleeping on a futon!! I don't think there is a card that could express how much love her ( and it would be just plain cruel to give her a "noisy card" from Garrett :)

I have so many inspiring mothers in my life that I am especially grateful for this year because they have done for me what mothers do best: nurture, listen, support, cook, clean, chauffeur...my sister, my friends, nurses who cared for me in the hospital. Yet, I can't help but think of the women for whom this day brought sadness, or emptiness, even pain. I can't help but think of the young woman I met in the hospital, how did this Mother's Day treat her? Does she have a mother, a sister, friends, women who will take care of her, support her and care for her while she is turning into a mother?

There is so much kindness for us to share, as women. We need more than one day a year to celebrate each other. We need to dak each other daily.

If you have special Mother's day story, please consider sharing it with us, so that we all can be encouraged!

Three Time Lucky

Timing is everything.

Sometime around noon today I found myself in the Defibrillator Clinic at the Toronto General Hospital trying to maintain some semblance of composure as I explained to my mother, in the public waiting room, that I was being admitted, yet again. I need a third surgery to fix a misplaced lead in my heart. My Mom immediately grabbed my hand and suggested we say a little prayer. “Let’s just give this to God. He’s already here,” she whispered. So I began to silently chant, “God you are taking care of me.” We were sent downstairs for x-rays and blood work while my room was being organized. I kept chanting.

As I stood in line for blood work I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful young Caribbean girl, maybe 16 or 17 years old, in line in front of me. Her hair was wrapped in a lovely head scarf, she looked about four months pregnant and like she felt quite ill. When she approached the desk to register everybody in line learned that she didn’t have a Health Card, and the test she required cost thirty dollars, which she didn’t have. Before her conversation with nurse ended I started to frantically tear through the black abyss I carry around as a purse, looking for thirty dollars. All I could find was a twenty. I ran over to my Mom, who had not seen or heard the situation, and barked at her to quickly give me ten dollars. The look on her face at any other time would have been Candid Camera material, but I in was in a hurry. I caught the young woman at the doorway and slid the money into her hand. She turned and collapsed in tears on my chest. “Thank-you, Thank-you, Thank-you.” I just held her and told her everything would be okay. I hope I didn’t lie. A little while latter, we bumped into her again as she was coming out of an elevator. She offered me the $1.50 in change left over from the thirty dollars. I kissed her cheek and hugged her. I didn’t know what else to do.

I got in the elevator to go up to my room. In that moment all the fear and anxiety that I was feeling evaporated. It was only thirty dollars, but this third surgery is worth it.

Only 5 days left

I'm going to do my best to try and remember the dakband tales from last Thursday until today, but being severely sleep deprived, I'm not sure I'll remember much past the last hour. Thursday evening I returned home after an evening out to find my beautiful Mojo (my dog) whimpering on the couch. An emergency trip to our vet, and a sleepless night preceded a diagnosis of a herniated disc - not good. I somehow have to figure out how to stop the dog from climbing or descending stairs, jumping up on any furniture (where he spends a good part of most days)or greeting us at the door on his hind legs! Then the next night we were just crawling into bed when the four year woke up with an ear ache.....Saturday morning we left for Kingston to pick up our other son. Despite being awake all night Friday, the four year found the hotel room too interesting to sleep, which, unfortunately, was not the case for me - except of course for the four year who refused to sleep.

So here goes.....

Thursday, December 17:

It's coming to me.....Oh yeah! This is a good one. Maryann came up to visit and we made a Costco run with the four year old in tow. We got separated while shopping because, as usual, I made it to the furthest point in the store when Garrett announces (to everyone) that he has to go pee. Have you EVER tried to race through Costco the week before Christmas? Once our toilet duties were done I decided that we would wait for Maryann with some fries and a pop, no sense starting over at that point. As the three of us were leaving the store, the gentleman who inspects the carts and receipts drew a snowman with a happy face on the back of our receipt, for Garrett. I gave him a pair of bands, despite the long line forming behind us!

Friday, December 18:

A server at the Williams Coffee Pub, after I dropped Garrett at school. Just because she brought me my double long espresso. I know this is her job and not particularly kind, but I really needed that coffee after spending the night at the vets!

Saturday, December 19:

To a gentleman who helped me put my shopping cart away because my hands were full. I got the feeling the zombie like look on my face evoked some pity.

Sunday, December 20:

Today was a dakless day, most of it spent in the car. I could give some dakbands to my wonderful husband, who is not quite as sleep deprived since the four year old jumping on the bed (beside us), pretending to snore, and singing Christmas carols did affect his ability to sleep at all. Nevertheless, he (my husband) greeted the morning with his usual cheerful demeanor, treated our family, our son's girlfriend and our daughter's best friend to breakfast, and then drove all the way home while I tried to nap - lulled to sleep by Garrett's rendition of the twelve days of Christmas....over.....and over....and over....again.....NOT!

Excuses, Excuses, Excuses!

I hate excuses, which is why I probably have a business (Justplay) that has the following tag line: no excuses Justplay.

But I am going to explain why I missed yesterday's post. Aside from the fact that I completely forgot until 4 pm today.....I forgot because my week is crazy busy! I am currently studying for my Masters degree, which I began this past spring with University of Regina. It is a distance program that I planned to work at during all my free time (LOL). Over the past couple of weeks I have been working with researchers in Regina and the U.K. to submit a grant proposal for a very big and exciting research project involving Justplay. A private courier delivered it the day it was due. However, while working on the grant proposal, the dakband project, the new dakband website, and taking care of family life I didn't get any other work for my course finished. Everything is due on Friday. I have two papers to hand in and half a textbook to read, along with completed chapter worksheets! Oh yeah, I have two couples coming to spend the weekend on Saturday.....

Thankfully, I have loving, KIND, parents who have offered to take our beautiful three year old for a few days so I can at least pretend that I am going to get all of this done!!

Day 14 of 31

Kind Tattoos

Okay, I know you are not going to believe this, but yesterday morning I had a lengthy conversation with Maryanne about how I almost missed posting Wednesday evening. She reminded me that it really wouldn't have mattered if I had missed the midnight deadline, but I stressed that I didn't want to mess up so early into my commitment to blog everyday for 31 days and I also expressed that I was elated when the post posted on Wednesday. So what happened yesterday you ask....hmmmmm.......nothing. I thought it was still Thursday! So here I am, feeling sheepish and a little discouraged.

Nevertheless, I forge on.

Here are some photos of my twenty year old son's tattoos. The first photo is the inside of his right arm:



this second photo is the inside of his left arm:



To be clear, I did not encourage, promote or suggest that he permanently mark the beautiful body that I gave birth to twenty years ago - in fact I have always been a little anti-tattoo. But between you and me, if he has to have a tattoo, these are pretty cool!

Day 6 of 31

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