Commitment

My Webster's New World dictionary defines commitment as a pledge or promise to do something.  I like this definition.  You see, commitment has come up as a topic of conversation alot lately.

For 7 years I have committed my time to my own business.  I commit time from my family, time from watching TV and just simply reaching my personal goals.  It's not easy to be your own boss, set your own goals & hold yourself accountable to yourself!  But I'm committed for my family.  I am committed because I love what I do & I want my kids to know they can do anything they set their minds to.  They have to have a little will power, maybe some stubborness (which I don't think they'll have a problem with) and COMMITMENT!  Jackie has been saying she wants to be a veterinarian since she was 3 yrs old.  Yes, she's gotta lot of life before she makes that decision for sure, but with an aunt who committed her life to medicine, she has a great role model to show her what that commitment means--lots of years of school, little lady!  If she's willing to commit to that goal, I know she will achieve it.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about marriage.  Now there's another commitment that I took 11 years ago.  I've recently been talking to Joel about renewing our vows--maybe have a big ol' party at 15 years!  Wanna come??:)  Well, I realized in attending a couple dear friends' weddings this year that the vows we took in April of 1999 mean something completely different now that we've LIVED them than they did the day we committed them to each other.  I cannot hold back the tears when I hear the traditional vow "in sickness & in health"  All those years ago we never could have imagined how much those words would ring true for us as a married couple.  I want my children to learn that even when there's anger & hard times that our vows were our committment to work through it.  I hope they go into their own relationships in the VERY FAR future with that same dedication.

For the past 3 years I've walked in the Susan G Komen Breast Cancer 3 Day.  This event requires LOTS of commitment!  First of all, you commit to raising $2300 just to qualify to walk!  This was a tad intimidating to me the first time I signed up, but I pledged to make it happen in time & I did.  It never occured to me, it simply never crossed my mind, that I might not get enough money.  I just didn't know exactly how I would do it, but the commitment was there.  Now after you have your qualifying money, it's a commitment of WALKING 60 miles.  That's 60 miles--or 22, 22 & 16 miles for 3 consecutive days.  SIXTY MILES!  I thought it would be no problem--I was in good shape that first year...it's just walking, right?  You know what's harder than walking 60 miles for the first time?  Making a commitment to walk 60 miles AGAIN!  Seriously--because you already know what it's going to feel like...your feet are hurting before opening ceremonies start, your muscles are screaming NOOOO, and your blisters are doing the happy dance because they know they're going to have a party on your feet in just a matter of a few hours! 

Commitment--a pledge or promise to do something.  I'll tell you, these 3 commitments are 3 of the best ones I ever made.  A couple of years ago Jackie started dancing in a new dance studio and mid way thru the year she decided she didn't enjoy it very much anymore.  This was the perfect opportunity for me to teach her about commitment and share my examples--she was already choreographed into the final recital, mom & dad had already paid for her to attend the classes & recital, and she needed to follow thru with the commitment she made at the beginning of the year.  I'm so proud of her--she was the cutest little blue bird in the Cinderella recital.  And one day she'll be able to share that experience of HER commitment with her children. 

Family Movies & Word Families

Tonight we celebrated the end of the first week of school with a family movie.  We had checked out the movie Goonies from the library last weekend so tonight we got to sit down and watch it.  It was made 25 years ago--I still remember going to the movie theater to see it with my neighbors.  My mom still tells the story about my neighbor's mom coming home and being horrified at the language in the movie.  Well....let's just say that I had forgotten how many times they say S%#!  All in all, the girls enjoyed the movie--we had a few great laughs.  It's so fun to watch them giggle.:)
Well, I know my girls know that word is not appropriate.  But, we watched this movie 2 years too late for me to blame it for Jackie's word family incident in Kindergarten.  For those that missed THAT story...I showed up to volunteer for the afternoon and the class was still at recess.  Jackie's teacher, an old coworker of mine, started giggling and said she needed to share a story with me.  She would've called me the night before but knew I was coming in the next day and wanted to see my face in person.  During reading groups the day before they were talking about the "it" word family.  There were 4 or 5 children (THANKFULLY) in Jackie's group working with Ms. K.  The task at hand was to take the dry erase board and add a letter to the front of the "it" to make a new word in the word family.  Someone wrote "hit", another wrote "lit" and then Jackie wrote....yes, you know...."shit".  When Ms. K. saw it she gasped and said "Jackie, do you know that word is not appropriate?"  She smiled and said "Noooo," while another child says outloud "Shit?  What is shit?  What does shit mean?" 

So, yeah, I'm THAT mom.  And that's MY kid.  Thankfully Jackie's teacher has a good sense of humor and I happened to know the mom of the other child who apparently had never heard the word before.  I politely approached her at the next school event and told her if he started saying it at home she could just call and blame me.  Fortunately she just laughed.:) 

So, now Josie is in Kindergarten--word families will be learned this year.  Wonder what stories she'll provide...

Wow!

Picture this--my green car is parked, pulled front in first in the parking spot and as I approach there's another car backing into the spot on my driver's side.  As I get closer I realize she's REALLY close to my car.  And as I'm upon her front bumper I see her side mirror scrape the side of my car...but she hasn't seen me yet.  So she ever so slyly yanks her mirror to fold it into the car and leaves a white streak of paint from her car on the rear of my green car.  That's the moment she sees me and first she deverts her gaze while mumbling under her breath--something about don't start with me and a few profanities as her window was down and I'm a fabulous lip reader.  I'm just staring at this happening--no look of disqust on my face, no words out of my mouth so her appropriate response at that moment is to shout out her window "Ain't no one touched your car!"  Um, again, I've said nothing.  I've not even given her a dirty look--YET.  So I wait patiently, as I begin to rub the white paint off my car.  She slowly, ever so slowly, parks her car, rolls up her window and then gets her store name badge from her rearview mirror and gets out of her car.  YEP, this here folks is a genuine customer service focused EMPLOYEE of the establishment from where I've just made a purchase!  She tries to avoid eye contact again as she goes around her car, but I stopped her.  I know at this moment that I might possibly be physically assalted in the parking lot of this shopping chain.  I realize that I'm going to be late to pick up Jackie from her horse riding lesson (not like she'll mind) and Joel will have to figure out how to deal with the kids AND pick me up from the police station after giving them my statement.  But she's not gonna side swipe my car--while I'm watching--and then YELL at me that no one did anything!  So I said, very politely of course, "Excuse me.  But you DID touch my car with yours.  See this white paint?  This is paint from your side window.  And there's no damage...the paint will rub right off, but you DID do it and there's just no reason to get so nasty with me."  She said "Oh, sorry." (you know the tone, like a smart a$$ little punk with an attitude) and started to walk off...but no, that's not enough.  I wanted to say like I say with my kids "Sorry for what?" but I didn't.  Instead the mother in me came out, despite that little voice saying "don't do it, just shut up and let it go" I said "I know accidents happen but you shouldn't try to lie about it." And that was too much, I guess becasue she spat "I SAID I WAS SORRY!" and stormed off for her evening shift at work.  Maybe the fact that she was already wearing her employee badge is what kept her from opening up a can on me...WOW. 

Yes, I've written a polite email to the store manager including the make, model and license plate # of her car because I honestly didn't think to look at her name badge and get her name.  I was shaking for the next hour with fury.  Truly, my car is fine.  But that's not the point,  AMERICA!   Man up--when I backed that same car into the house and the other side was covered in white paint from my siding, I didn't try to lie about it.  I didn't place blame on someone else.  I sobbed like a baby for an hour so Joel wouldn't be SO mad at me. 

I am just glad that #1 the accident magnet of a car really ISN't damaged and #2 I didn't make the evening news with the headline "Southern Maryland woman assalted in local store parking lot"...I totally want to be in the news for something better than that!:)

I like it, I love it, I want some more of it!

I'm training for the Susan G Komen Breast Cancer 3 Day. This is my third year. The first year I walked because I had just had Jamison & I was ready to get back in shape, but I was just over a year cancer free and wanted to do something BOLD. Folks, there's not much bolder than the 3day. My team of 8 walked in Washington DC over a gorgeous October weekend in 2008. I had a dear friend and her mom FLY from Florida to walk with us. It was such an emotional weekend, one I had not been appropriately prepared for. We had aching muscles, tired feet and blisters the size of Montana! We came home from that weekend satisfied that we'd gotten all we could get from that event. But less than a month later I found a lump. And just weeks after that, confirmation that the cancer had returned. So, in a tearful email, I approached my team about walking with me again in 2009--not even knowing what the year would hold for me in terms of treatment & recovery. Seven of the 8 of us signed up again--but this time we had additional girls join us. After a major surgery in May--4 days in the hospital & 6 weeks of recovery--we walked the 2009 3Day in DC again. This time our emotions were completely different--but we decided now that I had officially kicked cancer's butt twice and was cancer free that we had accomplished our goals with the event & left the final day with the decision that "next year" would be a year of rest.
It's funny how you can have your mind SO SET on doing something, or in this case NOT doing something, and one little thing changes it. A dear college friend had been diagnosed with breast cancer around the same time we found out mine had returned. She had it far worse than me--undergoing a bilateral mastectomy, chemo and radiation before her reconstruction could even begin--and at the age of 33. She sent me a message, just days after our 2009 walk, and said she was taking a team to walk in the 2010 San Diego 3Day. CRAP! The email went out AGAIN--to my faithful team--and there are 5 of us joining my friend H in San Diego this November for 3 more days, 60 more miles and endless amounts of memories. This year I will walk into the closing ceremonies with my pink survivor shirt holding the hand of another dear survivor, H. I had another major surgery with an incredibly long recovery following the decision to sign up for #3. So my training was delayed. 2010 has already brought me 2 more minor surgeries for reconstruction, a kidney stone & bruised bone on my right foot when I fell down the stairs--more delays in training.

Today I walked 3.5 miles on the boardwalk of the bay. Nothing close to the 22 miles we'll walk Day 1 in just 3 short months, but it's a start. And just as my man, Timmy McGraw was singing in my ipod today, I like it, I love it, I want some more of it! I cannot WAIT to get my feet on that San Diego pavement and kick some breast cancer booty AGAIN. 60 miles, 3 days, 1 cure...we walk so our girls won't have to....

First Day of School

Today my little love bug had her first day of Kindergarten.  After her drama at orientation yesterday, I was a bit concerned about today, but it went off without a hitch! 

6:30am our alarm clock goes off.  Of course we hit snooze.  So when we got up at 6:37am and went to the girls' room to wake them up, we found them both in Jackie's top bunk fully dressed.  They claimed they don't remember getting up to get dressed, but we knew better--these are 2 very excited little girls. 

Now, let me take you back to last night when we were picking out these clothes.  First thing Jackie picked was a green school tshirt and orange striped shorts.  I told her she couldn't wear the shorts because they're too short for school, plus they don't match and she said "Who cares, mom!  It's only school!"  So, I guess I am not going to have to worry about her being "hung up" on her clothes?  Then, the tshirt she put on when she woke up got yogurt spilled on it, to which she said "Who cares mom!  No one will care if I wear a dirty shirt to school!"  Then the 2nd shirt she put on she got toothpaste all over and again "MaaaahhhhMMMMM! People will think it's just PAINT!"  And when we finally settled on the THIRD shirt of the day, she made it all the way home with nothing on it.

Both girls rushed off the bus--Jackie declared that she had two BFF's this year.  And when we asked Josie if she'd played with her friend Diego at school today she said, "No, I played with my new best friend!"  Joel said, "Oh really?  What's her name?"  And her response was "I dunno." 

But I guess that really isn't important.  What's important is that they found other little people who were having the same excited & nervous feelings today and they made it through the day together.  Knowing they've got a long year ahead of them, it's nice to know they've got friends to take the journey with them. 

As for this momma, I am proud of them both for being so brave as I remember how scary the first day of school can be.  And I savored EVERY SINGLE moment of Bubba's naptime when the house was so silent I could ACTUALLY hear myself think today.  This is just the first day of a great school year....

Guest Blogger: SIL Sara Bennett Wealer

You may have noticed a book in the right column with a link to preorder--this is a blog entry from the author and my sister-in-law Sara Bennett Wealer!  Check it out!  And make sure you consider preordering her book!:)

It was probably always meant to come to this


/waves/ Hi, everybody! And hello to any new friends who may have found me thanks to early buzz about my book. RIVAL doesn't come out until February, and I'm only just now doing a few things to start getting the word out. One of those is dusting off this blog and starting to post stories people might actually be interested in reading. No promises that I'll be here every day - I have two small children, a day job and a husband who works insane hours, but I will be here more than usual. So whether you're new or an old friend, I hope you'll enjoy the new "posty" me.



Yay! So what's today's topic, Sara?




I thought I'd talk a little about how I came to write RIVAL, since I get asked that question a lot in interviews. People want to know what inspired the story, which is about two singers--once friends, now enemies--in an elite high school program who are getting ready to go up against each other in a major competition. I've also been asked whether the book is based on any of my own experiences.



The answer to that second question is no. People who grew up with me might recognize a couple of homages to our hometown, but the entire plot of RIVAL is fiction, as it should be or it wouldn't be fiction, right?



As for inspiration, well, I also was a singer in a pretty competitive program, so the memories of how that felt--the pressure, the practicing, the paranoia that somebody might do better--definitely informed what and how I wrote. But the truth is that I wrote RIVAL because I probably couldn't have written anything else, at least not as a debut author.



See, music and performing were my *thing* all through school. They were so much a part of me that I sort of had to get them out of my system before I could write about anything else.



I'm not sure where the urge to sing and perform came from. It's not like I come from a family of performers. I grew up in a small Kansas town and, in those days, we didn't have dozens of Nick and Disney shows telling kids they could all be stars. But my mom did teach at the high school, and she took me to all of the musicals. She also took me to concerts by the Pops Choir (MHS's version of "Glee"). Don't ask me how Manhattan, Kansas, got so many awesome singers over so many years, but those shows were GOOD! They might as well have been Broadway as far as I was concerned.



I remember it clicked for me in third grade when our music teacher held auditions for the class play, Alice in Wonderland. The girls trying out for Alice had to sing this song about giving themselves very good advice, and I just knew I could nail it. Guess what? I did. I got the lead and I was hopelessly lost after that.



Looking back, I imagine I was pretty obnoxious. I sang solos in church almost every other week. I wrote and choreographed shows for my friends to put on for our class. I couldn't wait to get up to high school so *I* could be in the musicals and Pops Choir. I got into the top choruses early and had leads in almost all of the shows. When the TV show "Glee" first came out, I saw a lot of myself in the ultra-driven character of Rachel Berry.



But where Rachel knows she's destined to be a star, strangely I don't remember having that vision. While I loved being on stage, somehow I think I knew I wasn't good enough to make it in the real world, against the millions of other singers who were light years better than me. Majoring in voice performance for a couple of years in college confirmed that. The dream died fairly quietly, to be replaced with the wonderful discovery that you don't have to be a pro to keep performing. I wrote and starred in shows for my sorority's Rock Chalk Revue. I sang with elite choruses in Pittsburgh and Cincinnati.



And then, I used what I knew and loved to write a book. Like I said earlier, RIVAL sort of felt like it had to be - like I couldn't write about anything else until I wrote something about being a singer in high school. I hope girls who are like I was then will see themselves in it, and I hope the book rings true for them. I also hope people who don't know much about the arts will have their interests piqued as well.

Goodbye summertime...

We decided to take a last minute camping trip this weekend to celebrate the end of summer for the girls as school begins this week.  Saturday morning was spent loading the car down with the gear, packing the cooler with drinks & food and then off we went.  Upon arrival we found Uncle J and little J & E waiting at the campsite next to ours.  This weekend it was just Me & The Boys + 5 kiddos.  Of course, this detail of D being out of town was left out of the planning information until we were in the car and on our way...but I wasn't worried.  I knew it only meant that much more adventure would await us. 

First order of business was setting up the tents while the kids began exploring.  After "home" was settled, then we took the kids for a trip to the playground made of recycled tires.  Jamison could've used some judo tips from Daddy on how to tuck 'n' roll when he went flying off the tire swing, but he came away unharmed and back to the site we went.  The boys went for wood, the girls gathered sticks...dinner was roasted hotdogs & cheetos for the kids and crabs & beer for the grown ups.  Enter the knife set--OH MY!  You see, Joel & I have lived in Maryland for 8 years...and only ONCE actually had crabs where you have to crack them open and pick them.  We don't have actual crab eating tools, so Joel brought along this knife set he'd received as a gift from my dad some years back.  I don't remember him getting it, but I say it again--OH MY!  These knives could be used for defense...they were frightening.  We each picked our tool of wonder and dug in--trial & error.  Between the 3 of us, we were able to create our own crab eating technique to ensure we got enough meat to fill our bellies.  Meanwhile, our children found ants and threw them in the fire...

After dinner, roasting marshmallows and eating smores was our evening activity...followed by reading books (thank you Uncle J for remembering bedtime stories) and bedtime.  The boys and I stayed up for several hours just sharing stories.  Mind you, we've been friends for nearly 10 years but it always seems you learn something new when you actually have a moment w/out the interruption of small ones.  What a great evening!

About 11pm we started feeling random raindrops and thanks to modern technology we were able to do a quick search of the weather and find the rain that was previously scheduled to arrive at 4pm the next day had actually been moved up to 4am.  Before we turned in for the night, we prepared the site for possible rain and hoped that would give us the luck to keep it away.  Unfortunately we woke up to showers...and instead of pancakes by campfire & a hike to the river for fishing, we loaded the cars in the early morning light and went to the local McDonalds for breakfast.  

I admit that camping is not my FAVORITE activity, tho I do enjoy it with my family occassionally--provided there are bathrooms within walking distance that provide a flushing toilet.  But last night, as I lay in the tent with my adorable munchkins entertwined like a bunch of spaghetti noodles, I was in complete heaven.  This evening, as we shared our favorite moments of camping over dinner, the kids lit up remembering, just hours before, the adventure we had taken.  It was $20 for the site, we took food we already had and only drove an hour & 1/2 to the park.  They rode bikes, ran races, explored trails, told stories, played ball, found a frog, threw ants in the fire...that's what childhood is all about.  I was THRILLED to be home and in the air conditioning with a shower and a sink to wash my hands with soap, BUT wouldn't trade the memories we made this weekend for anything in the world.  Goodbye summertime fun, hello school year... 

Borrowed this from a FB post of a friend...truly something to think about...

An old man said to his grandson, "Boy, I have two tigers caged within me. One is Love and Compassion. The other is Fear and Anger."

The young boy asked, "Which on will win, Grandfather?"

The old man replied, "The one I feed."

Ain't Goin' Nowheres!

Well, folks...Christmas came early for me today.  I've been complaining for MONTHS about my old, slow, frustrating computer.  Today, after power washing our entire house on his day off, my husband knocked on my office door, opened it and sat a gigantic box on the floor.  "MERRY CHRISTMAS," he says and then closed the door and walked away.  Yep, this amazing man who drives me crazy on a regular basis bought me a new computer--and SERIOUSLY surprised me with it today.  Seems that he's enjoying my blog so much that he doesn't want to hinder the writing process!  HA!!! So, it looks like I ain't goin' nowheres...this blog is here to stay! 

27 minutes...

During one of the workshops I attended at my recent business convention, I heard a statistic that goes something like this..."The average American couple spends 27 minutes/week having a 1 on 1 conversation."  You know, talking about adult things to another adult together...and as a parent of three children under the age of 7, this makes sense to me.  I can see where this might happen.  Fortunately for us, we have schedules that allow us to be home more often together and spend more time talking.  Well, I said fortunate....let me backtrack.  You see, last week while sitting in this workshop many many many miles & 2 time zones away from my husband, I felt very fortunate that we don't fall into that statistic.  We definitely spend more than 27 minutes a week talking--about our work, our plans, our future, our dreams.  And then tonight the kids were in their rooms playing after dinner, we were in the living room alone with no TV to distract us and we started talking.  It only took a few minutes, only one smart-A$$ comment from that man and I told him that I now understand why most couples don't talk more, especially if they're married to a husband like mine.  So here's a case in point...this is a Facebook conversation starting with my youngest brother-in-law writing on his new wife's wall "I love you baby" and then the following comments...   

John Wealer i love you baby..

                 Adam Wealer oh god 

                Gina Richardson watch it, brother-in-law.... :)

• Jennifer Reisenbichler-Wealer awwww, john boy, i love it! adam, be nice. those 2 can beat us up!
•  

  Joel Wealer I may have just thrown up in my mouth a bit....
•  

  Jennifer Reisenbichler-Wealer Whatever Joel--you could learn a lesson or 2 from your romantic younger/bigger brother...
•  

  Joel Wealer Adam said something, so I had to also. My bad... ·
•  

  Adam Wealer I only did it because I knew joe would think it was cool...
•  
• Jennifer Reisenbichler-Wealer Oh good grief...
•  
• Joel Wealer It was so cool cuz my big brother said it!  
•  
• Adam Wealer that's me!

 

 

 

So, welcome to the family, Gina.  I hope the conversations in your house are more grown up than the ones from your husband's brothers.  And I wish you WAY more than 27 minutes of happy talking for the rest of your weeks together! 

Trying New Things....

Two years ago, at convention, my friends decided we needed to go out for sushi.  I had never had sushi.  So, out of desire to spend time with them, I agreed to go if they'd order for me and make sure I didn't get anything too "fishy."  I will tell you that was one of the best times I've ever had--me with my training chopsticks & MB eating the whole edamame before she knew what it was!  We laughed and laughed and laughed.  So, this year when we went for our 3rd annual sushi dinner, I had another first.  I ate octopus!  Yep!  What did it taste like?  I know you wanna know--especially if you're an octopus eating virgin like I was.  And I actually dropped it in my little bowl of soy sauce because, even 2 years later, I am still NO good with the chopsticks!  So, it tasted mostly like soy sauce but it was the texture that got me.  It was a little chewy and it popped in my teeth--EWWWW!  My cheeks were sore after dinner from all the laughing again.  I came home and told my girls about Mommy eating octopus.  They were a little wigged out, but I told them they should not be afraid to try new things....

Take My Breath Away...

Life's not the breaths you take
Breathin in and out
That gets you through the day
Ain't what it's all about
Ya just might miss the point
Tryin to win the race
Life's not the breaths you take
But the moments that take your breath away

These are the words to a song by country star George Strait & I love it.  My girls are counting down the days (Oh, who am I kidding?  We're ALL counting down the days) till school starts next week.  This year my big girl Jackie will be in 2nd grade & my little lovebug Josie Mae starts Kindergarten.  This child can truly challenge me as a mom & loving parent on a regular basis but I think I just might be a little choked up next week when she gets on that big ol' yellow school bus.  She's picked out a horse backpack like her big sister.  They have matching lunch boxes and she's even started asking for PB&J sandwiches when otherwise she used to HATE peanut butter.  They grow up so fast...it's slipping away.  Today the girls sang Garth Brooks songs in the backseat of the car at the top of their lungs, they swam like little fishies in the neighbor's pool & tonight we cuddled while we read books.  I have one more full year with the little Bubba Boy at home with me playing "To Infinity & Beyond" and watching Dora before he starts part-time preschool.  Too many times I have wished for the day to be over for more reasons that one, but it's so true about how fast it slips by.  Before I know it, they'll be starting High School and the we'll take them off to college?  Really?  Well, for now, I'll keep looking for and treasuring the little moments that take my breath away....

Sometimes you just know...

Let me take you back to our life in Michigan as a newly married couple. Joel is in school, getting his Masters in Music Performance & we've just purchased our first house. It's nothing fancy but we're working on making it ours & loving every minute of it. Since Joel's so busy with school and doing several gigs in the area, I have taken on the task of teaching 3rd grade in an inner city school for a significant pay raise so he can quit his part-time job & focus on playing his horn. This job is both the most challenging & the most rewarding job I've had to this point in my life & I love it but I'm quite tired and stressed at the end of each week. Friday night during one of these exact weeks Joel has a gig with the orchestra from school & I am calling it an early night....but around 11pm my phone rings. "Hello?" An unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone says, "Jenny, this is T and I'm calling because Joel is going to need a ride home." And I know that they've been drinking (tho I'm not sure WHERE since they've been on a bus with the school orchestra and later find out it was ON THE BUS), and I'm not mad that someone has called to come get him but that I am thinking at this point that Joel is TOO drunk to even dial his phone & now I'm very very angry. After my quick pick up, including screeching tires as we drove away, T is pretty sure we are not going to be friends. Fast forward 2 years & now we all live in the DC area and I have just given birth to our first baby, Jackie Sue. T is one of 3 guests we had in the hospital, arriving with flowers & lots of love from Jackie's "uncle". Two more years later, here's Josie Mae and Uncle T in the hospital room. Now here's the part that amazes me...first of all, he's single with no girlfriend making him come see us. But when Josie is 18 months old and I'm in the hospital having a bilateral mastectomy for breast cancer, T is one of the onle who comes to visit--with pillows in hand since there are none to be found at the hospital (no really, they had NO pillows for me). Another year later I have our 3rd baby and while Joel is at home with the girls, T shows up with lunch & flowers...just me and Uncle T in the hospital room, him holding the baby Jamison with so much love. But it doesn't end there--exactly 1 yr later the cancer is back and when I have my next big surgery & have to spend 4 days in the hospital, T calls--already on his way--wanting to know what I want for lunch. I'm craving cold food so he brings me a salad & fresh fruit which took him well out of his way to find. I walk the Susan G Komen Breast Cancer 3day in DC in 2008 & 2009 and T is there--08 at closing ceremonies and 09 riding his bike to find me while I walk thru downtown. Now T has found the love of his life. And if he'd asked me to hand pick someone for him to love and spend the rest of his life with, I couldn't have done better. K is the most perfect match for this most perfect friend who we call part of our family. We were blessed to attend their wedding this summer--Joel was able to stand up for T and be part of the wedding. I cried from the moment we arrived that weekend. There are very few genuine people in this world. T is one of those people and it started way back when he called me to pick up his friend even against Joel's wishes. I couldn't be happier for T & K. No one could doubt the love they feel for each other, but none of his friends will doubt his loyalty to us either. Sometimes you just know....

Glad I brought my bucket...

So, I've just returned from a 4 day trip. This was my annual trip to my company's national convention. But this year was the best year of the past 6 I've attended and there are 2 reasons. #1 Our company--wowza! This is the 25th year in business, and they're stronger than ever. The trainings, the entertainment, the new info was beyond our wildest expectations. But my favorite reason for this trip was my bucket & I'm so glad I brought it.:) You see, when I started this business 7 years ago, I was a SAHM with a 9 month old daughter. I had only lived in this state for a year and since I didn't have a job, I didn't have any friends. I literally knew my daughter & my husband and a couple of the wives of Joel's coworkers. So, this business was a way for me to make connections with other moms around the country each day from the comfort of my home WHILE bringing in an income. My mentor, B, had a way of connecting people on her team. She had a way of making sure we knew we were not alone in this & she brought us together. In August of 2006, just weeks after I found out I had cancer, we all met in person--most of us for the first time--at our annual national convention. Just 6 months later, B unexpectedly passed away. And so our business family grew closer & stronger than ever before. Now, each year when we get together, we toast B for introducing us and creating our bond. We nurture that bond daily thru phone calls & skype messaging as we are scattered literally from coast to coast--Seattle to DC and TX to Canada. These girls are my sisters. When I am having a bad business day--no matter the time of day--I can get online and someone is there to talk to...but it's more than biz with these ladies. We share husband & child woes. And then we also share our dreams & aspirations. My favorite thing about these women is that they fill my bucket, everyday. And so we get to be together once a year at our annual national convention. For 4 days & 3 nights we hug & laugh & cry & dream & love & fill each other's buckets. Even if the workshops & the speakers were cut from the budget and we had nothing but time together, I wouldn't trade those 4 days for anything in the world. When I got off the plane last night I had a FULL bucket. For 4 days I was told by many that they believed in me, they were inspired by me, they loved & respected me...all the things any of us crave in our lives. And what I know the biggest challenge now will be is to keep that bucket close to my heart in the coming days when those feelings get ripped away by the reality of life & the nonbelievers surrounding me. It's hard to come home sometimes...but lucky for me I brought my bucket.

Tri...do you mean TRY?

So, earlier this summer I was invited to a bridal shower for a dear friend. Joel & I have been friends with the groom for nearly 11 years so that's how I came to know the bride, K. As I arrived, I was taken around to meet the bride's friends. I realized very quickly that less than 1/2 of the room was married & only 2 of us were moms (the other mom is another long time friend of the groom). Now, let me set this up for you a bit further--the women, single and/or childless, were either friends of K from law school OR part of her & T's life in the local triathalon club. Enter WAHM of three...which one of these things is not like the other? The natural question of the friends as I was introduced as an "old" friend of the groom was "So, are you part of the tri-club?" I'm standing there in my $3 Kmart dress with my $12 Kohl's sparkly flip flops with my thighs rubbing together & arms that keep waving even after I stopped moving my arm & I laugh OUT LOUD. "ME? TRI-club? Only if by tri you mean my trio of trouble that I run around after all day, everyday. Or by tri you mean TRY to survive the day w/out an alcoholic drink before 5pm...No, this lady doesn't do tri club type of activities." I guess I should be flattered that they even asked, but I know better. I know they were just trying to make conversation. So, bless their hearts...enjoy the freedom you have to run 20 miles just because you want to, or ride your bike for 120 miles on a Sat afternoon because it's beautiful outside...I'll let you keep the triathalon skills to yourselves why I compete in the triathalon I call life!

They Grow up So Fast...

After a 2 hour bike ride for the family & 7 mile training walk for me, we came home & Joel made some yummy frozen pina coladas. The girls asked if they could have one too, so Joel poured the pina colada mix w/out the rum--obvious to some, maybe not to everyone--and they enjoyed their own version with dinner as well. After dinner, my 7 yr old loaded the dishwasher--a new chore she's learning to do--and then sat down with me at the table to sip the rest of her refreshing beverage. She says to me, "Pina coladas are delicious. Could I have some coffee with you in the morning?" Um, no. She didn't understand & of course followed up my no with an immediate "why not?" Because you're 7. 'Nuf said. You are SEVEN, not SEVENTEEN, not TWENTY SEVEN, just plain ol' going into 2nd grade in 2 weeks SEVEN! I remember this--I know it will only get worse as we go, but she has to stop wanting to be older than she is. Just yesterday she asked me if she could SHAVE HER LEGS! Oh dear...they grow up way too fast!

Just thinking of you...

This week I got a phone call from my mother & she told me of a dear family friend's diagnosis of breast cancer. She had stopped by mom's house to let her know that while she was very nervous, she knew that I had been thru the same type of breast cancer (twice) and had survived so she knew she'd be ok. I appreciate being able to offer that sort of support to someone--just knowing someone who's been in your shoes can help tremendously. I, however, didn't have that when I was diagnosed the first time. Sure my mom knew women in their 60's, 70's and even 80's who'd had mastectomies but I was 30. I had a 3 yr old and 18 mo old at home. I still had plans to expand my family. What I found out in the months following the diagnosis is that it's a hard thing for others to deal with. I had a couple very close, dear friends who completely fell off the face of the earth. I had other friends who WANTED to do something but didn't know what to say so they only talked to friends who were talking to me regularly. Immediately upon finding out that our family friend had been diagnosed, I went and picked out a card--and I'm not talking a $6 talking/singing fancy bling bling card. I went to WalMart and got a simple $1 card that said "I'm thinking of you." because that's all she really needs to know. If you know someone going thru a hard time--whether it's a health diagnosis or death or divorce and you personally have never experienced it so you don't know what to say, THAT'S OK! Don't create more distance between you and them--call them, send them a simple card to let them know you're thinking of them or drop by with dinner. I will tell you that if they don't want to talk to you at the moment of your call, they'll let you leave a message--I promise! So leave the message--tell them how you're feeling. If you don't know what to say or how to help, tell them that. But offer things like dinner, company, or child care in my case. Just let them know you're thinking of them--they won't know if you don't tell them. And most importantly, don't forget about the loved ones who are caring for the person--in the event of an illness. My husband was so stressed--he had to take time off, find someone to watch our kids, sit in the hospital for hours, help bathe me when we got home, cook dinner, do the laundry...it took it's toll on him. No 30 year old man should have to be the "rock" for that long. I learned thru my experience the first time that 2 things are important--#1 take people up on their offers (so don't offer if you don't want to actually oblige) #2 make sure someone is thinking about your caregiver too. I was in a great amount of pain after my first surgery back in Aug 06. But waking up to find flowers, plants, balloons and even a little bear with a pink cardigan for breast cancer awareness were the things that kept my spirits up. The simple card IS enough. Just don't forget to let them know--they just want to know you're thinking of them.

I feel pretty...oh so pretty...

I am not a diva, I am not all caught up in my looks or having the best clothes & accessories. I consider myself a pretty simple person, tho I do like to look nice & feel pretty. 4 years ago this month I had a bilateral mastectomy. While I was always VERY small chested, it hit me the night before the surgery that my breasts were being REMOVED and I got very upset. I was in a considerable amount of pain after the surgery which resulted in a longer hospital stay than most women undergoing the same surgery...but alot of the pain, as I look back, was depression pain from accepting that my beasts were GONE. Yes, I had immediate reconstruction with tissue expanders put in at the same moment of the mastectomy, so I didn't come home with a completely flat chest, but rather 2 mounds with gigantic frankenstein scars as I referred to them & no nipples. I sobbed the first time they removed the bandages after the surgery. For the next 2 1/2 years I was very self conscious--my husband only saw me without a shirt on a couple of occassions. When the cancer returned and they described what they would have to do to remove the remaining tissue & then explained the procedure they could perform to reconstruct more natural looking breasts I was both excited and worried about how it would look. I am happy to report that today I am finally CANCER FREE with a body that looks pretty decent with clothes ON, but underneath I have breasts with multiple scars created from my stomach & butt tissue. I love my new boobs, don't get me wrong. Joel doesnt' even know what to do with a wife who has cleavage! BUT, my stomach has a scar from hip bone to hip bone & each butt cheek sports a 6 inch scar. I can't control the fact that cancer came into my life. And I can't control the scarring that is a result of putting me back together again after the cancer was removed. I can control the cellulite on my thighs, but don't have the will power to work out or eat like I would need to. I can't control the hormones that are raging and causing my face to break out like a 14 year old boy, but I have one part of my looks that I can control...my hair. I can schedule an appointment with my wonderful, young, hip stylist and within a couple of hours transform my white trash/SAHM/poor folk hair into a color that makes me feel PRETTY. As I've said before, I like to be in control. This makes me happy because I can control it & it boosts my self esteem. This is something my adoring husband cannot grasp as he will love me no matter what. I appreciate that, but sometimes a girl just needs to feel pretty...oh so pretty.

Not your Momma's Sloppy Joes

My husband are living a great life. An average work week for him looks like this: Rehearsal M, T, W, Th 9:30-12:30 and F 8pm concert...you do the math...this is actually MORE than he usually works & that's less than 15 hours for the whole week. When he's done with rehearsal at 12:30, most days he plays raquetball with his friends for an hour or so and is home by 2ish where he takes a quick shower and then proceeds to nap until the school bus arrives at 3:15 during the school year. Not a bad life:) And I honestly can't complain because I am my own boss. I get to spend time with my kids everyday & create my own work schedule. As a part of us "sharing" the parenting responsibilities, we have different "jobs" at home. Twice a month I sit down and create a dinner menu for the next 2 weeks. I list what we will eat with each meal and then create the corresponding grocery list to make sure those items are in our home when we're ready to eat them. I also do the actual shopping twice a month--a several hour ordeal driving to the commissary, doing my shopping, standing in line, paying, then driving home to unload everything. Joel HATES that job. And I don't like him having that job because he never sticks to the list & as a result he always BLOWS our grocery budget. The job he doesnt' mind is cooking dinner--as long as he doesn't have to decide what he's making. This routine has worked out beautifully for us until recently. In my attempt, again, to stay within budget, I ONLY purchase the exact ingredients needed to specific recipes on the dinner menu. When I buy a green pepper for a chicken kabob recipe & then he decides he wants to cut it up to eat with PIZZA one night, you might see where this is irritating. His response "Oh, we'll use the red pepper and it'll be fine." THEN, there's the sloppy joes tonight. Typically Joel makes our sloppy joes by browning some ground turkey, then adding his own mixture of brown sugar, bbq sauce & ketchup. The menu this week listed "Sloppy Joes & French Fries" as an option & tonight he came upstairs to fix it. When he called "DINNER!" and I came upstairs, this is what I found...a bowl with browned crumbled ground turkey--plain, with nothing on it, bottles of mustard, bbq sauce & pickles, green beans and instant mashed potatoes. The girls said "I thought we were having slopppy joes!" He said "This is a NEW WAY" Um, I challenge you to attempt to eat crumbled meat with bbq sauce on the bun and see how much of the crumbled meat stays IN the bun w/out anything holding it together. Our dinner ended with 2 very frustrated girls and a boy who had his meat on his plate with mustard & pickly ONLY on his bun. Like I said, we are living a great life...I just might have to have him go live his somewhere else if he keeps being so difficult......

The true Test of a Marriage...

In our 11 years of marriage we've moved 4 times, renovated 2 houses almost completely, traveled cross country with 1-3 children twice a year for 8 years, survived the hormones of pregnancy 3 times, 2 rounds of breast cancer, a kidney stone & a partridge in a pear tree. Ok, maybe not that last part, but you get my point. There have been some ups & downs, words said that we wanted to take back, tears shed, some truly dark times. But the true test of our marriage is...HAIR DAY. Being the awesome wife & mom that I am (it's true, I've been told), I try not to spend alot of money on me. I am not a complete diva--while I splurge on a new pair of flip flops from time to time, I do not go crazy spending money on my looks. However, I like my hair. I like a nice highlight from time to time. And I have this amazing girl who is hip & fun & really expensive so I only go about 3x's a year. Well, this summer we've had trip after trip after trip to clean out our bank account so I have attempted a way to save $ by getting a cheaper cut from a local walk-in place. Which ended up quite eventful when a tornado ripped thru town and we all ended up in the bathroom out back. Today we are doing the highlights--at home, courtesy of my not-at-all patient husband. And here's where the war of the words comes into play--now that he's in charge of doing something he doesn't enjoy & is not an expert at, he's upset I'm not getting it done professionally at over $100 more than the box I got from WalMart. I'm hearing him talk to my HAIR as if it has just killed his puppy in cold blood. "Get out of there you F'er" and "This is f'ing ridiculous!" but my favorite is "This is f'ing horses**t" Then, I hear "What the F? Are you KIDDING ME? WHY GOD?" So, I literally type this as he's making my eyes water & I wonder if we'll survive this day....

I just have to say that as he stands here in his white undershirt, scruffy face & Homer Simpson jams, I couldn't be more in love.

Suits & Undies

Here's the deal. I am a planner with a capital P--I have to have a plan, in advance...Joel calls it anal. I call it responsible. Joel is NOT a planner. He's a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kinda guy, in all situations. So he's been asked to stand up for our friend T in his upcoming wedding. Suits were purchased & distributed months ago. Joel received his and while the waist was a TAD snug, he decided it would work and he brought it home. Fast forward--10 days before the wedding. Joel comes into my office, in the middle of a business presentation, snooping all around my desk. He "signs" to me that he needs safety pins. His pants are too LONG. So now he's walking around the house shirtless in his suit pants, doing lunges, to "stretch" them out a bit and make them more comfortable. And he wants ME--with NO sewing skills to my name--to pin his pants so a friend at work can hand sew them for him. Um, NO. "You only have 10 days, start making calls..."--this is MY advice as I look up alterations in the phone book. His response is "I still have 10 WHOLE days, Jenny. No need to panic." And so the story goes like this. I find a friend of a friend who offers to help us out while he takes the pants to work on the off chance that the retired lady MIGHT be in the office that day and will POSSIBLY be willing to help him out with hemming the pants. She's there and she says she'll do it for $5 and bring them back next Tuesday...just 3 days before we leave for the wedding. Ok, he's got it under control....until Tuesday comes and he makes a special trip to work to find the pants are NOT there. And to make this story even more fun, he doesn't have her phone number OR the phone number of anyone else who might have it. YAY! Visions of my husband standing at the alter in his suit jacket, blue shirt, tie, black socks, black shoes and the tighty whities that his MOMMA bought him for his 34th birthday (yes, a great subject for another day...) are running thru my head! The bride, K, has been SO calm and collected through all of the planning but this one might make her head spin. As luck would have it, the following day Joel was able to reach someone at work who happened to know a way to get ahold of the lady with the pants and they are now in our possession again. I know you won't believe this, but we leave for the wedding TOMORROW and he still hasn't tried them on to make sure the hem is correct. Are you surprised? Me either.

All I want for Christmas....

In honor of my extreme and impatient desire to have all of my breast reconstruction complete & my husband's vasectomy to become a reality, I composed a song this morning to the tune of "All I want for Christmas is my 2 Front teeth"...

All I want for Christmas is 2 same sized boobs, 2 same sized boobs, oh 2 same sized boobs....All I want for Christmas is 2 same sized boobs and to have sex without a rubber!

It takes all kinds to make the world go round....

At least that's what I tell myself when I'm forced to interact with someone who's really just plain ol' stupid. And yes, the "s" word is a BAD word at my house, but some people really deserve the title. I work in a business where I make phone calls. I DO NOT telemarket--I don't pick up the phone book and just start dialing. My job is to advertise my work at home opportunity and when people contact ME, then I call them. SO, one of my biggest pet peeves is stupid people who answer the phone when they can't talk. First of all, everyone has caller ID, right? If my number/name/state comes up on your phone and you don't know who it is, then you KNOW it's not your mom calling about your dad being rushed to the hospital or the kids' school calling to tell you they got sick and need to be picked up. Voicemail is an amazing invention and I leave messages when I want you to call me back. So when I call & you answer and I introduce myself telling why I am calling and then ask if this is a good time to chat for a few minutes, the last thing I expect to get in response is "Well, no, it's not a good time, I'm driving and shouldn't be on the phone while I drive..." or "No, it's not a good time, I was rushing out the door to pick up my kids from daycare." HELLO! Don't pick up the phone if it's NOT a good time to talk!

This entry could literally go on and on and I can only guess there will be more like it in the future, but my second biggest irritation with my business is people who are too stupid to act like an adult. Ok, if you're grown up enough to birth a child (don't get me started bc I know what lack of qualifications there are for that, believe me...I used to be a teacher), have a credit card and be issued a paycheck, then you need to have enough brain cells to take adult responsibility for agreements and commitments you make. If you don't know how to read, you shouldn't be signing anything. If you don't understand fully, ask questions. Don't come to me later and act like I suddenly started speaking a foreign language. You can call me names if you want, but I'm the successful one and you're the stupid one.

Not in public!

Yesterday when Jackie was going into the pool for her swimming lesson, she told me she didn't want to kiss me in front of everyone. When we got home I was teasing her in front of Joel and she said "I couldn't kiss you! My teacher was watching!" Her teacher is a high school/college aged boy. Her class consists of 2 other boys and my sweet little charming red headed blue eyed beauty. Joel asked if they were her boyfriends and I said "You know you can't have a boyfriend until you're 30." She said "ACTUALLY, I can have a boyfriend when I'm TWENTY and you can't say anything about that." So I agreed...No kissing momma in public & no boyfriends till she's 20. I think I got the good end of that deal...

Life Lessons...

Jamison is going thru potty training. This is one of my least favorite parts of being a parent & he's so cute that I give in when he says he doesn't want to sit on the potty. Joel, however, is the Potty Hitler of the world. And the poor boy is scared to poppy so he holds it (most days) till Joel leaves the house...and mommy gets to change it everyday.

Tonight Jackie gave Joel a hard time with her sassy mouth and he made her help him with the dishes. As I sat in the living room I listened while he showed her how to rinse each dish, how to place them in the dishwasher, fill the cup with detergent, etc. She told him she HATES doing dishes--well, welcome to the club, my dear!:) Crack me up--one of the good things about them getting bigger I guess, huh?

Ha ha!

Last night Joel & I were in the girls' room telling them how proud we are of them for doing so well in their swimming lessons this week. Joel told them that they're fast learners and I said "Yeah, they get that from their momma." Jackie said "Well, Daddy's not the sharpest knife in the drawer." So when I started laughing hysterically and gave her a high-5, Joel said "hey, that's rude!" She laughed and said "well, neither is mommy really..." Then my sensitive little angel said "No one is! I'm not either!!" She said she learned this little phrase from the book "The Tale of Despereaux" which she read cover to cover on the train on our vacation. Little smarty pants....

It's not just a box...

You know those friends in life that you can see every 5 years or even more and as soon as you're back together it's like you never were apart? I am so blessed to have a group of that kind of friends. We met in college 16 years ago...we've all split off and live in different parts of the country now. But, every time we travel back to MO, we TRY to get together. And every single time, it's like we're back in college...sitting around watching the show that brought us together "Friends". And nothing's changed...and nothing matters...we're honest and open and accepting and loving and it's perfect. When my cancer came back and I was scheduled for my second mastectomy with reconstruction, these girls went together and sent me the biggest box I've ever gotten in the mail--full of fun things to do during my recovery. The best part of the box was the decorations on the outside--it was covered on ALL sides with pics of US & the things that we enjoyed together back in college. It's been over a year since that surgery and I still have the box, tho now it's empty. I won't let Joey get rid of it...because it's not just a box...

4 years...

It's been 4 years. July 7, 2006 was the day I learned I had cancer. So much has happened. In 4 short years I've had a bilateral mastectomy, reconstruction with implants, a 9 pound baby boy, a lumpectomy, another mastectomy with DIEP flap reconstruction, an SGAP reconstructive surgery & 2 more minor nip/tuck reconstructive surgeries. The cancer came, it went, it came back again, it went away again. I live each day a little differently now--to the fullest. I will never forget that moment 4 years ago...I live now to make sure my girls don't have "that moment" in their lives.

Memories...

Here we are on our summer vacation, visiting Joel's sister in the town where we met 16 years ago. It's so funny how a smell or the weather can take you back in time. I remember SO CLEARLY those first few days of band camp when we were freshmen--all big fish in little high school ponds, now thrown together as tiny fish in the big college pond. Band camp...legs cramping from marching for hours, arms too sore to lift from holding up our horns, lips tingly from playing the fight song over and over and over....but the pain and misery was offset by the friendships and the laughter. The memories...I love being back here where it all began...

Ahhhh...

This morning we used our new-to-us-used bike rack to take the 2 little J's on a bike ride at Quiet Waters park in Annapolis. The weather has been SO PERFECT this week and we had to take advantage. After we did about 3/4 of the loop on the bike route, we took a break on the South River to have a snack and water. Joel took the kids down to the water and I sat in the gazebo watching the boaters starting the holiday weekend on the water. Then, I almost cried. Joel came back and said "What is wrong with you?" He already thinks I'm crazy but I think he's wondering to what extent these days. So I just smiled and said nothing was WRONG. For whatever reason, the past 8 years we've lived here, I haven't appreciated where we are. We live near enough to the bay to be able to go to the beach anytime, it's just down the road. We're less than an hour from our Nation's Capital and all the amazing monuments and museums. We have access to state parks all around us--for free as military--and our children are growing up here! This is an incredible life we're living. We have a beautiful home, in an amazing neighborhood...our kids are incredible and my husband is truly the LOVE of my LIFE. We aren't perfect, by any means...but our life sure is as close to it as I can imagine

You promised me 60...

I'm sitting her watching Boston Med. There's a gentleman on the show who is undergoing surgery for lung cancer. It's very aggressive and he's got a long journey ahead of himself. I have tears. His wife just told the surgeon to take care of her soul mate and then she turned to her husband in tears and said "You promised me 60 but I want 65..." They've been married 56 years. Nothing better than a real life love story...

Should I?

Our supplies were so limited at our school and we would hoard the supplies and lock them in our classroom closets. On a field trip to Henry Ford Museum, I was in the bathroom with a group of children and I saw some toilet paper rolls on the counter. I actually thought about taking some in my backpack to take back to school! How crazy is that?!? TOILET PAPER! No, I didn't take it...but that's a desperate teacher, lemme just tell ya!

Da Park

I spent 2 years teaching in Da Park--Highland Park, MI. There were about 500 students in the elementary school. 1 of them was a white child. Of the 30ish teachers, there were only 6 white teachers. I taught 3rd grade & it was the most challenging yet most rewarding experience of all my teaching years. The first lesson of Black History Month we were talking about how we would have not been able to be in the same school during segregation. My students asked why so I explained how white teachers only taught white children while black children had only black teachers. One of my students exclaimed "But you ain't white Ms. Wealah...you just light skinned!" How can I even follow that one?

Fear...

For me, a self proclaimed control freak, the topic of fear revolves around that which I cannot control. And "not knowing" falls under something out of my control. This scares me...even bad information is not as scary as not knowing. Just give me the information and let me deal...

Pink or yellow?

So, not only do I have a strange sense of humor, but my sister does as well. And my poor mother ends up dealing with us together more than anyone else. The night I found out I had cancer I called my lil' sister. After I convinced her I wasn't lying we decided we had to tell my mom in a very delicate manner. We made the call to her together. Emily broke the news something like this...

"So Mom, Jennifer's pathology came back from her surgery and they found DCIS which is a form of breast cancer. But, the good news is that she's a girl and not a boy...(pause)...Because we all look good in pink. Testicular cancer is yellow and that just washes us all out."

Yes, this is the way the conversation went down...don't believe me? Ask my mom. So when she got the news of her daughter's cancer, we all were cracking up. See...laughter really IS the best medicine.

Sarcastic Much?

I'm known to be a bit sarcastic. Not everyone gets my humor. I try to find the humor in every situation. I don't think this makes me an inspiration or stronger than anyone else out there. It's just my personality--more like I'm a smartass. And I've been this way, even long before the cancer came into my life. My kids make me laugh, my husband makes me laugh and we help each other keep the little things in perspective. If I can make someone laugh in a situation they might be sad, then I've done my job...it helps me get by.

One in three...

June 30, 2006: I underwent a minor outpatient procedure to remove a benign lump from my right breast. It was growing mysteriously so my "gut" told me to just have it removed. We'd been watching it for years and now it was time to have it go away.

July 7, 2006: I was at the hospital to have my stitches removed. Joel was home with the girls (18 mo and 3yr old) getting ready for his concert that night and our trip home to MO the next day. I was wearing yellow capris & my tshirt from Beliz when the doc turned around in his chair and said this to me..."Jennifer, I just got the pathology from your surgery. You're not going to hear anything else after I tell you this so it's important for you to know that you're going to be ok. You have cancer." And he's right--the rest is a blur. I had to call Joel from my cell to tell him I was going to be late getting home and when he asked why, I had to tell him OVER THE PHONE that I had cancer.

So it's true--one in three women will have cancer in their lifetime. In my family the women include me, my sister, my mom, my maternal grandmother, paternal grandmother & one aunt. Just last month we found out my maternal grandmother has colon cancer--probably an advanced stage. That's 2 out of 6...or 1 in 3. One in three...a statistic again.

Yes, this post is happening...

Have you ever done anything really cheesy? Or so sappy that other people gagged? Well, that's how I feel these days. And it kinda makes me laugh! But it's true. I'm just gonna say it--I am SO in love with my husband I can't stand it! This is a man who tells me I'm beautiful every single day. He still flirts with me & makes me laugh. I know we make people want to "throw up in their mouth a little bit" but it's love, for sure. I wish everyone had a love like we do. I mean that truly--as corny as it sounds! We know so many bitter about love because of mistrust or divorce, etc. I think everything happens for a reason--and I believe that this man was put in my life (to give me grief and anguish for a full year before we started dating) so that I could get thru the really horrible things we've been thru together. Go ahead and gag--I probably would if I weren't the one writing it. But I want to scream it from the rooftops and dance in the rain (like my dear friend C who can probably apprecite this "cheese" more than any other married woman I know)...I LOVE MY HUSBAND. So there...

Stop & Smell the Roses..

After our wedding, we headed to our first apartment together in Michigan. It was small, but it was ours. That first summer of our marriage, Joel worked from 3am to 9am at the local UPS store as a loader, then he went straight home to call and find out where he was needed by Huffy Bikes to assemble bikes/grills/shelves around the southern MI area. He did this job until about 6pm each night. I left for Old Country Buffet to work as a greeter about 10am and was home by 4, but then went straight to the testing center where I worked each evening from 5-10pm grading standardized tests of students in southern MI. It was a rough start to a young marriage, but I guess we survived because we were never together! HA!

The next 3 years involved me teaching, first at a private Kindergarten, then onto the ghetto of Highland Park--the city neighboring Detroit and arguably more scary. I have stories to share of my 2 years teaching 3rd grade there--those will come another time. Joel finished his Masters Degree in Music Performance--we made some LIFELONG friends at his school and just 3 days before he made the drive to Bolling Air Force Base in Washinton DC to audition for a horn position, we found out we were expecting our first child. Fortunately he WON that audition and so our journey brought us to our current home in Maryland.

I stayed home with Jackie for her first year, then went back to teaching for 2 years until Josie Mae arrived. I thank Joel for giving me the opportunity to be home with my children. I also thank him for the support in letting me follow my dream of being my own boss and taking a complete change of career to start my own business from home.

We've been married 11 years and we've been thru alot together. Just the other night I was sitting at his concert at the Air Force Memorial and in the background sat the Pentagon & Washington Monument as the sun was setting. Silly me almost started crying...sometimes I get caught up in the day to day and forget to stop & smell the roses. I've got a great life here...with an incredible family. The hardships along the way only help me appreciate it even more. I only hope everyone can find a rose and stop to appreciate it more often...

Grandpa

Just Grandpa & I

by Jennifer Reisenbichler

1990 (7th Grade)

It was a warm June afternoon. I stood around watching my grandpa put the horses in the horse trailer. I couldn't wait to get on one of those horses and be so high in the sky. I felt like a princess on my throne and everyone was so less important. Riding on top of the world with my grandpa's arm around my waist and a pillow under my bottom. Time to go!
I sat in the truck with my grandpa to my left waiting to arrive at the place where we would start our day of adventure and riding. I couldn't wait. My little heart was pounding and my pigtails waved back and forth from the breeze coming through the windows. We were there!
I jumped out of the truck and ran to the back of the truck to watch my grandpa saddle the horses and get them ready to ride. Everything around us was blowing in the wind. The wheat in the fields reminded me of golden blonde hair on a small girl's head swaying in the wind. I heard grandpa yell my name. I ran up to him and his big hands placed me on the horse.
On the horse, up so high, everything seemed so tiny and unimportant. Up came grandpa and we were on our way. Slightly bopping up and down, trotting down the road, looking left and right making sure to get every bit of the countryside in view. I heard the wind blowing around me, the breeze tickling my nose as we strolled through the country roads; just me and my grandpa.
Grandpa shared the same love for the countryside and horses as I did. We never really talked while riding along on those sunny Saturday afternoons. I always knew he was thinking the same things I was.
But then it was time to go home. I watched disappointedly as grandpa put the horse back in the trailer and we started home. Mom and dad came to pick me up and I'd say bye. I'd go home and excitedly await the next Saturday when I would once again be able to ride through the country with grandpa and our horse.
Now that I'm older, my weekends have become more and more busy which means I have no time to ride with my grandpa anymore. Now that our horse is no longer ridable, grandpa has to ride a different horse and he now rides alone. Although I still see him often, I wish we could have one more ride; just me and my grandpa.

Grandpa was diagnosed with cancer not long after I wrote this in my 7th grade language arts class. He fought for his life until just before I finished college. Joel & I were married in the front yard of his house, with his horses watching from the fence in the background & grandpa from Heaven.

Happy Birthday

I turned 22 years old in May of 1998. Joel & I came home for the first weekend of our summer break. (yeah, yeah, I know you're counting on your fingers and NO, I was not done with college yet...I took the 4 1/2 year track) We'd been together for 2 1/2 years and both of us still had a semester left before graduation. Sitting on the loveseat of my parents' house, my mom brought me my birthday present. She sat it in front of me and said "Your dad is moving out June 1." WHOA! Joel tried to leave, my parents asked him to stay. And so this was the time my "Mayberry" began to dissolve and our family became a statistic.

I don't know all the details and don't care to know. What I do know is this--it doesn't hurt any less to be the child of divorcing parents when you're a grown up yourself. And I do believe that everything happens for a reason. My parents raised me in a loving, protective environment & home. I live by that example everyday as I am a mom now. This was a difficult time for me, my sister & especially my mom who did not want this for her and my dad. At the time we didn't know, but it's purpose is all coming full circle in our lives today. Everything DOES happen for a reason...

Run Forrest Run!

I remember watching Forrest Gump in the movie theater. I cried, laughed, cried, laughed...best. movie. ever. The fall of 1994 I started college & was in the marching band. Forrest Gump had been a very popular movie, if you recall.:) In the week before classes started, the band met to go through drills and start learning the first halftime show. Any mistakes you made cost you a "troop lap" (running around the entire 300+ member band WHILE they're marching across the campus). One of the boys in my section was what you might call "the class clown" and thought it would be funny to call me Jenny. And not just Jenny but Jen-nay like Forrest called his love interest in the movie. This was a tad annoying to me so every time he had to run a troop lap I yelled "Run Forrest Run!" Oh, I got so irritated with that blue eyed blonde boy I was forced to march beside. How dare he call me Jenny! No one called me Jenny. My name is Jennifer, NOT Jenny.

His name is Joel.

Mayberry

So I had a pretty normal childhood. It was mom, dad, me & my little sister. We had no pets (because my mom was "allergic" so now she has 2 dogs...hmmm...). Our house was in the middle of town where we could hear the cheering and announcing from the Friday night High School football games. In grade school I was a girl scout & in 4H. Jr. High brought band into my life where I played the french horn & met my favorite of all teachers, my band director Mr. L. I joined the Speech & Debate team in 10th grade & starting my Junior year brought home multiple trophies. Leading the marching band as Drum Major filled my fall months for both my Junior and Senior year while being elected Co-Captain of the Speech & Debate team my Senior year. If popular means that I was well known in the school, then yes, that's me. If by popular you mean I was ever elected for anything like student council or prom queen, then no. But I cannot complain. I had a wonderful family & fabulous childhood. When I left home to go to college in the fall of 1994, it was the first time I'd lived anywhere but our home on Florence Street in our own little "Mayberry". Looking back, it's amazing how things happen for a reason and it's truly amazing how we have no idea how much will change....

From head to toe

I have scars...from head to toe. I've never been called graceful...because I'm SO not. Let me share the story of my scars...maybe you can relate?

9mo old: Dad is on his back in the living room holding me over his head and making me laugh until he lost his balance and dropped me on the leg of a piece of furniture. This led to my first stitches for a busted lip.

3yr old: Grandma had concrete steps coming down her front porch. I think I lost my equilibrium in the earlier accident and just tumbled down those stairs. Stitches #2 in my lip.

4yr old: Aunt & Uncle (Aunt Gert's brother) have a gathering of cousins galore. Kids are outside playing on the back patio which has about a 13 ft wall with an A/C unit at the base of it. I sat on top of the wall because that's a good idea for a 4 yr old and when my cousin came riding toward me on the Winnie the Pooh bike, I took a scoot back to save myself (you know, Winnie the Pooh is SCARY!)...but there was no where for me to scoot back to and I tumbled right off. Yep, my face hit the A/C unit which equaled stitches #3 in my busted lip. (and a safetypin of sorts in my top gums to hold in a tooth I wasn't yet old enough to lose)

1st grade: Playground at the Primary Anex--I'm a 7 yr old running around minding my own business, but as I came around the corner another Jennifer on the playground was doing the same so we colided. I remember piercing pain in my head and face, gushing blood from my nose...a call to my mom at work, a trip to the doctor, a scan of my head...Luckily nothing was broken, but I think my nose flattened a little that day

6th grade: Bike riding down the big hill on Ohio Street right by my house. That annoying piece that attaches to the middle of the wheel from the frame by the pedals had come loose and was flapping. I got my genius from somewhere other than my mom, I guess, because I thought it would be a good idea to hold that still with my foot...while riding...down a hill...really fast. Yes, my foot got stuck in the spokes of the front wheel...face plant (more like chin plant) on the concrete road and off for stitches.


12th grade: It didn't matter that at this point I was Drum Major of our High School Marching Band, Co-Captain of our Speech & Debate team, scholarship earner for college in the fall...I was still NOT graceful. After a speech & debate tournament at our school, I was helping clean up on the auditorium stage. Everyone was busy so I decided to fold the 6 foot table by myself. And as the table came down, it gained momentum and swept my feet out from under me. Stitches #2 on my chin!

There are more scars as we move down my body--these came about as an adult and I consider them my battle scars & I will share them as their own story later.

Just blow..

My mother spent a small portion of my pre-school childhood as a working mother. And, as fortune would have it living in a small town where both she & my dad grew up, she had an aunt who lived just down the street. Aunt Gert watched me every day while Mom worked. I wasn't even 2 yet, so I don't remember any of this but the story goes like this....Aunt Gert called my mom at work and told her I had something in my nose and she couldn't see anything or get anything out. Fun thought, isn't it? Mom drove, or maybe she walked because she only worked about 2 blocks from Aunt Gert's house, and asked me what was in my nose. I told her it was a rock. She couldn't see anything. So Mom, being the genius that she is, held my other nostril shut & told me to "just blow". And I did. And sure enough, the rock came out! See, I TOLD you there was a rock in my nose! A mother's work is NEVER done. Now, just imagine telling YOUR boss that you have to leave for a few minutes because your child says there's something in her nose but the babysitter doesn't see anything...yeah right! Maybe this is why she came home not long after that...

Gersberds

So Aunt Gert had the infamous pink flamingo yard decorations in her front yard. And I saw them each day, of course. One day some punk kids thought it would be funny to take them. A couple days later my family was driving around the neighborhood and I started yelling "gersberds! gersberds!" As is common when toddlers are trying to communicate, no one had and idea what I was saying. Even after asking me to repeat myself, no one knew what I was getting so excited about. I continued to scream "gersberds! gersberds!" And by now I'm frustrated that they can't understand what I'm saying! Again, the details of the story are a little fuzzy, but later my family noticed my Aunt Gert's pink flamingos in ANOTHER neighor's yard at which point I yelled again "gersberds! gersberds!" AHHHHH, now they got it--"Gert's Birds! Gert's Birds!" And pink flamingos will always be "gersberds" to me. Maybe I'll get some for my yard...

Welcome to the world...

So, let me just say that I have been called a "pain in the ass" more than one time in my life.  But my Momma has the privilege of calling me that in a literal sense.  It was Mother's Day 1976 and my Mom was incredibly pregnant with yours truly.  Her water broke so the doctor instructed her to walk.  In the house I grew up in--where my Dad still lives to this day--there is a circle from the living room to the kitchen to the dining room back to the living room where she walked and walked.  The details of when she actually arrived at the hospital and the form of pain relief she was given are all fuzzy to me as I try to recall the exact story.  But the part I specifically remember and am reminded of often, is the part where I was a FAT and SHORT baby so in the process of coming thru the birth canal and out into this world, I literally broke my mother's tail bone.  Luckily, I have gotten TALL and not SO FAT anymore, but I am still a pain in my poor Momma's ass anytime she has to sit for long periods of time.  So, welcome to the world Jennifer Sue & to the painful reality of motherhood, Patricia Sue!   Little did she know this was just the beginning....