My friend, Katie Granju, gets no second chances with her son, Henry.
However, for those of us who are still in this world and have children, friends, family, spouses, lovers, neighbors, and acquaintances in this world, her recent blog post is a must read. Do it now. Don't procrastinate.
We DO have second chances.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Why soccer rocks the world
I heart soccer. The only thing better than watching my own kids play soccer is watching the World Cup matches.
As parents, my husband and I made a conscious choice to sign our eldest up for soccer over T-ball. We could only afford to enroll him in one activity that year, and soccer it was.
Our thinking at the time was that soccer was more egalitarian, less US-centric, and, as a sport, would reinforce values such as cooperation and teamwork. Also, we figured, soccer could be played just about anywhere, by just about anyone, and didn't require special equipment...in a pinch, any ball with bounce would do or a wad of rags.
Soccer can also be played alone.
So far, this has proven to be a good decision and we don't regret it. For the most part, it has been a very positive experience for all three boys. It has been a positive experience for us as parents, too. In fact, I've missed sitting on the sidelines with the parents of Nathan's cohort this past season, since he didn't play spring ball nor is he playing June league.
Both of the older boys have met and formed what very well could be life long friendships playing soccer.
However, the absolutely one of the bestest "soccer is wonderful" stories I've heard was posted to my facebook wall today.
I had started the thread by commenting that I like the sound of thousands of vuvuzelas being blown en masse. Really, I do. At least on tv.
One of my long-time friends, from waaaaay back in high school, commented that she imagines her one son, who is autistic and not highly verbal, must also like the sound of the vuvuzela. In her words:
tom and i both think the drone is what makes george a world cup fan. today he even said "soccer" -- and he RARELY says two syllable words.
Doesn't that speak to the miracle of soccer? How awesome is that!!! It brought a tear to my eye.
Soccer has certainly rocked his world.
As parents, my husband and I made a conscious choice to sign our eldest up for soccer over T-ball. We could only afford to enroll him in one activity that year, and soccer it was.
Our thinking at the time was that soccer was more egalitarian, less US-centric, and, as a sport, would reinforce values such as cooperation and teamwork. Also, we figured, soccer could be played just about anywhere, by just about anyone, and didn't require special equipment...in a pinch, any ball with bounce would do or a wad of rags.
Soccer can also be played alone.
So far, this has proven to be a good decision and we don't regret it. For the most part, it has been a very positive experience for all three boys. It has been a positive experience for us as parents, too. In fact, I've missed sitting on the sidelines with the parents of Nathan's cohort this past season, since he didn't play spring ball nor is he playing June league.
Both of the older boys have met and formed what very well could be life long friendships playing soccer.
However, the absolutely one of the bestest "soccer is wonderful" stories I've heard was posted to my facebook wall today.
I had started the thread by commenting that I like the sound of thousands of vuvuzelas being blown en masse. Really, I do. At least on tv.
One of my long-time friends, from waaaaay back in high school, commented that she imagines her one son, who is autistic and not highly verbal, must also like the sound of the vuvuzela. In her words:
tom and i both think the drone is what makes george a world cup fan. today he even said "soccer" -- and he RARELY says two syllable words.
Doesn't that speak to the miracle of soccer? How awesome is that!!! It brought a tear to my eye.
Soccer has certainly rocked his world.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Why tomorrow must be my last chemo
The meaning of "must" there works either way: (1) why it is imperative that chemo end tomorrow as well as (2) why there is some sort of indicator that tomorrow is the last chemo.
Today, I actually said, "This is my favorite episode of Trading Spouses" and then I saved it on the DVR.
Yes, that means I've seen the episode more than once. And, yes, I'll probably watch it again.
The only justification I have for this is that these four rounds of chemo have really wiped me out. In fact, I hit nadir at just about the time I do another round, which means I really have no "good days." I do have days I'm not nauseous, but I otherwise feel like limp celery. I nap daily and get physically tired grocery shopping. I'm so looking forward to having some energy. When I have energy, I can actually care about things. We've all heard the saying "Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff." I don't at all subscribe to that adage. In fact, I think it is pretty stupid. Some stuff deserves sweat. But for the last 6 weeks, I've pretty much been unable to sweat even the large stuff.
I've said, and I do believe, that if my kids survive this year without being too damaged, it will be a successful year. But "things" have certainly gone by the wayside, especially lately. I don't know the last time Tynan was read to. He rarely reads any more. It's been forever since I've challenged Nathan with academics. I've not even spoken to Aidan's physical therapist. Just about all family routine has ceased. Household routine is non-existent.
So, yes indeedy, it's time for chemo to end. I've heard of people who've done chemo and not let it interfere with their lives, but I'm just not capable of doing that, to the detriment of my family life, that's for sure.
And, yes, I've found a favorite episode of Trading Spouses.
For this reason alone, tomorrow must be my last chemo.
It. Must.
Today, I actually said, "This is my favorite episode of Trading Spouses" and then I saved it on the DVR.
Yes, that means I've seen the episode more than once. And, yes, I'll probably watch it again.
The only justification I have for this is that these four rounds of chemo have really wiped me out. In fact, I hit nadir at just about the time I do another round, which means I really have no "good days." I do have days I'm not nauseous, but I otherwise feel like limp celery. I nap daily and get physically tired grocery shopping. I'm so looking forward to having some energy. When I have energy, I can actually care about things. We've all heard the saying "Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff." I don't at all subscribe to that adage. In fact, I think it is pretty stupid. Some stuff deserves sweat. But for the last 6 weeks, I've pretty much been unable to sweat even the large stuff.
I've said, and I do believe, that if my kids survive this year without being too damaged, it will be a successful year. But "things" have certainly gone by the wayside, especially lately. I don't know the last time Tynan was read to. He rarely reads any more. It's been forever since I've challenged Nathan with academics. I've not even spoken to Aidan's physical therapist. Just about all family routine has ceased. Household routine is non-existent.
So, yes indeedy, it's time for chemo to end. I've heard of people who've done chemo and not let it interfere with their lives, but I'm just not capable of doing that, to the detriment of my family life, that's for sure.
And, yes, I've found a favorite episode of Trading Spouses.
For this reason alone, tomorrow must be my last chemo.
It. Must.
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