Mammo What?!?!

Now that Breast Cancer Awareness Month has come and gone I finally feel ready to share my experience with my very first mammogram in hopes that telling women what I was not told will take some of the sting (squeeze, ouch, and ugh) out of the experience. I turned 40 this summer. It wasn't too bad. A few grey hairs, a few stretch marks, a few laugh lines. Nothing major. Except for that first time baseline mammogram looming in the back ground. All my friends said, "No problem. It's no big deal." I was still moderately concerned. First of all because, although I don't have an MD or a PhD I understand enough about simple physics to have slight terror.

You see, I'm a barely there A cup and I know there is no stinking way it is easier to squeeze a barely there A in between two metal plates than it is a C or a D. Simple physics.

So, on the day of the dreaded ta ta photo session I went in with a bit of concern. Put on my stylish little gown, open in the front of course, headed into the imaging room. The sweet little 20 something tech told me to place my left breast on the metal plate. I told her she was being optimistic.  She chuckled....and then proceeded to pull skin from down around my ankles to place in the machine. She then asked me to do Downward Facing Dog. No not really, but she did ask me to place my arm up here, lean in there, twist over here. It didn't take long. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. I'm standing there thinking I've just totally conquered this whole ordeal.

I'm patting myself on the back. Until I hear, "Hmmmmm."

"Hmmmmmm," you say?? Nope. Not what you would like to hear. She turns the screen my direction. I see lots of white streaks that look something like cirrus clouds. The tech explains that this could be dense breast tissue. Cancer is white, dense breast tissue is white. This makes my mammogram harder to read. My turn to say, "Hmmmmm." She explains that they will likely call me back for a second mammo and ultrasound.

Not exactly what you want to hear on your first go at this.

So, I go home and immediately get on the internet and look for anything about dense breast tissue (because apparently I haven't figured out that diagnosing one's self on the internet is the dumbest thing you can do). What I read was both frightening and reassuring. I read that dense breast tissue makes you 4 to 5 times more likely to develop breast cancer. I also read that breast tissue becomes less dense as you age and younger women (that's me) sometimes have denser tissue. I read there just really isn't a whole lot you can do about dense tissue. So I waited for the call telling me I needed to go again and have another mammo. Two days later I received a letter that I was all clear.

That was a relief, but I started to wonder. Had I done my part of the job yet? I don't smoke, haven't had to start using hormones, and I'm not over weight. I was starting to feel rather smug. Then I got to the part about how brisk walking a few times a week can cut your risk of breast cancer about 15%. Yeah, about that. I've been too "busy" to walk.  Then I read about how a healthy diet helps cut your risk further. I eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, but I'm thinking the chili dogs and chips may not fit the bill.

I began to come to a realization. I can't do anything about dense breast tissue or the fact that I didn't breast feed. I can't do anything about my family history or the fact that I'm a barely there A. But I can tell you this, I don't want to walk in to next year's mammogram and have that nagging thought in the back of my mind that I didn't quite do everything I could do to ward off this hateful disease. So I'm going to walk and eat well and stop stressing. I'm going to do what I can to make sure that next year at this time I have done my part to make sure I will be here to homeschool our kids and tuck them in until they are 20. I'm going to encourage all my not quite 40 friends that are dreading their first mammogram.

I'm going to remember those who have lost their battle with breast cancer and those that are fighting. And I'm going to fight for my own health, one mammogram at a time.

Basset Hound Theory

My husband and I have this theory. Some people are like Basset Hounds. Yep, that's the whole theory. But this is actually deep...and useful. It's not the droopy eyes nor the sweet nature that are the basis for our theory. Here it is: Bassets are sweet, loyal, and gentle. They can also be some of the most stubborn creatures on the face of the earth.

Our first Basset, a sweet tricolored little baby was my best companion during the early days of our marriage. She slept with me at night and spent long hours waiting for my husband to come home from his shifts as a paramedic. But I will tell you, if something wasn't her idea, she would dig her heals in and do out of character stunts to let us know just how much she thought of our ideas. My husband and I would joke that we had to make everything seem like her idea or she would immediately do something spiteful like using the carpet as her personal bathroom space (while staring you in the face) or go find a shoe that looked especially tasty and shred it. Even something as fun as going for a walk would sometimes become a battle if she didn't feel it was a good time for it. We lost that sweet girl a few years ago and got another Basset. This one is even more gentle and has a really sweet disposition. But from time to time when we say it's time for bed or tell her she needs to get off the couch, even if she has followed the command 100 times, she will look at us as though to say, "Seriously? Do you think I'm going to just do that?" But within 5 minutes of you leaving the room she will do it because you are not expecting her to.

Our children are a lot like this. I, of course, am not saying my children are dogs. But their personalities are a lot like this. We ask our children to do many things during any given day. Pick up your clothes, do your school work, do your best. Most of the time, they will do it without question. But the 9th out of 10 times, someone might just put up the fight of the century. And then, we as parents scratch our heads and wonder what awful rebellion we are in for or wonder where we went wrong. So then we have two choices. We can either draw a line in the sand and really put up our dukes or wait until it is their idea and then try not to say, "I told you so." I am apt to get feisty and go head to head with a kid over respect issues or a child not doing their personal best. Other things I let go (while secretly wishing that someday they have 10 kids just like them) and hope that they will suddenly decide down the line it is their idea.

Our son began picking around on a guitar when he was 5 years old. He picked music up, little by little, with the help of fabulous youth leaders and people who took an interest in a little tiny boy with a little Baby Taylor. He began at a very young age playing in our church and youth groups he was too young to actually take part in. My husband and I began to think that maybe God had big plans for this little boy. We began to talk to him about God gifting him with musical abililities and what all he could do with those abilities for God's glory. He voraciously learned and practiced music for years. And then he turned 10. And the guitars sat in his room and got dusty. And we embarked on a whole new era of parenting....Tweendom. And it was scary. He wasn't outwardly rebelling. He was just being quietly  stubborn about this whole God Gift thing. I originally pestered him to death about it. "Did you practice? Do you think you might be wasting the gift you've been given? Do you want to play and sing at church?" To all questions I was met with what I thought was stubborn refusal. The more I pestered the less the guitars were picked up. Finally I realized, this had to be his own doing. He had to come by this knowledge on his own and through God. My husband and I consoled ourselves that he was only 10...and then 11...and finally 12. Then this year, a miracle. He has decided that this may be his gift. He has decided that this is the coolest thing ever. He sits for hours learning new things and now he is pestering youth leaders and other guitarists to show him this or that on the guitar. He gets it. He is living the Basset Hound Theory. Head strong but sweet, and gentle. Doing things when he decides it is right.

So in the end, we all know someone who fits this theory. But in the end, maybe it's not stubbornness as much as a need for patience on our part. People will come to things in their own good time. We can plant a seed and pray for rain but in the end only the other person will do the actual growing. Or maybe not. We can't make people do things. You can lead a horse to water, but cannot make them drink. And as for our children, we can facilitate, pray for, and teach,  but in the end it will be them that actually learn the lessons. So what I thought was going to be a blog about stubbornness and people having things their own way has actually been a lesson in grace and patience for all of us......don't you love it when that happens?

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

Yesterday morning, before homeschool, I decided it would be better for the girls and I to dash into Walmart to do our grocery shopping instead of waiting until the afternoon. I don't know about your Walmart, but ours turns into one of the most frightening places on earth after 3:00 p.m. Now, we live in the Florida Panhandle, which is one of the most beautiful places on earth with wonderful, moderate weather. That's all fine and good, but it turns people into wimps. I wholeheartedly believe that anything below 80 degrees means I should hole up in my house and not leave until it reaches said temperature. I am not happy until I am sweating profusely, glowing with tan, and sliding down a water slide. Most of my family shares this enthusiasm for warmth, except one.

One of my twin daughters never gets cold. I don't get it, but there it is. She longs to see snow, loves the winter,  and wants to live in the mountains. So every winter for the first few years of her life I fought a battle. First, the battle was with well meaning people who didn't understand why I didn't have her wrapped in layers of clothing and a blanket when it dipped below 50 degrees. Then when she turned 2 the battle was waged between me and her. "Put the jacket on. You have to keep the jacket on. Don't take the jacket off!" And it was too late, she had already taken it off. At about age 6 I stopped fighting her. I realized that this child, very likely the most level headed of the 3, knew her own mind. If she went out without a jacket and froze, she would remember and put a jacket on the next time. If she said she was not cold, then very likely, she wasn't.  I also realized that I had to teach her to decide on her own when she needed something or not. I want my children to be able to take care of themselves without me always having to say, "Eat your vegetables. Wear a coat. Don't stick your head between the spindles on the stairs."

Which brings me back to yesterday morning. It was 46 degrees when we got to Walmart. Now some of you are thinking this is a near heat wave, while those of you "from around these parts" are thinking, "Oooooooh, that's cold!" I had already required the child who rarely wears a jacket to at least bring one in the car, just in case. I'm all about the just in case. The other child brought a jacket because she is cold nearly constantly (like mother, like daughter) and freezes inside Walmart. So we are heading through the parking lot of Wally World when we passed a very well meaning, middle aged lady who, after giving me the death ray glare, said, "Where is your coat, honey?? It's cold!" My daughter just smiled that sweet 8 year old smile and kept walking.

I immediately felt guilty. The self talk began. "She is only 8 and I should have made her wear a coat. It is really cold out here! That lady probably thinks I am the worst mother ever!" And on and on it went. I asked my daughter several times during the shopping trip whether she was cold and was told, "No, ma'am!" every time. But the guilt persued me.

Several hours later as I was going over the situation for the 600th time, I started to wonder why I was torturing myself. I know my child. She knows when she is cold. She checks the weather every morning without fail and knows what is cold to her and what is not. It took years of me over dressing her for her to learn that. And, if she went out at 46 degrees and it was cold to her, she will choose to wear a jacket next time. Natural consequences. Then I began to wonder why I let something a random person on the street said, bother me that much. Am I that unsure about my parenting? The answer is, maybe now and then, but I feel that God is making up for my inadequacies. That woman absolutely meant well I believe, but I feel her need to say something is part of a growing problem among mothers.

We judge other mothers, shake our heads at other mothers,  and fail to uplift other mothers. We are so busy playing Mommy Poker ( you know the game....I'm so much busier than you are. No wait, I have you all beat because I do 4 more activities than you.) that we have failed to do the number one thing we are supposed to do....encourage each other. I let one person's comment bother me because I felt judged. I think a lot of mothers feel judged. This is not a contest. We all need to stick together, no judgement, no head shaking. We are all in this together and if we stick together we will probably all have an easier time. So, next time you are questioning why that mom never brings snacks to the soccer game, ask how she is doing instead. I guarantee she will appreciate it. Instead of judging the mother who never helps with PTA, remember that we never know someone until we have walked in their shoes. We need to share each others' struggles instead of judging them. Let's all stick together......there's safety in numbers!

Selfless Parent or Enabler??

If you are like me, you are constantly discussing the virtues of being selfless with your children. You are constantly modeling selflessness by putting your family first and your needs or desires second...or last. I am forever putting things I need to do for myself (physical therapist mandated neck exercises, showers, meals) aside to deal with laundry, run a child to an activity, or clear up a homeschool question. As it is, this blog will very likely take me a couple of hours to write, not because I'm pondering any deep life questions but because I will have to stop no less than 10 times while I write it to handle the COTM (Crisis of the Minute). Still, I'm feeling pretty good about all this...pretty, dare I say it, righteous in my selflessness. After all, I want my daughters to grow up to be giving, selfless adult women. A Proverbs 31 kind of a wife and mother. I want my son to grow up to be the kind of husband who values a Godly woman who puts others before herself. But I am beginning to wonder......

I am beginning to wonder if my children seeing me daily putting everything under the sun (son) before my needs and before what God has called me to do, is really being selfless or just me enabling them to be selfish. Strange concept I know, but when I allow my kids to interrupt every minute of my time, watch me as I fail to take care of my health and body, and when I cave to their every demand I'm really not teaching them to be selfless. I'm teaching them that their time is more valuable than others' time. When I jump to attention in an attempt to "help" them solve the problem of the second, even though I am doing devotions, I am really robbing them of the ability to solve their own problem or exercise a little patience. I am taking away from my daughters a model of a strong woman who can make God a priority even above the "needs" of others. I am taking away from my son, the notion that a wife is to be treasured as Jesus treasured His church because she knows her God, not because she drops everything to make sure you have your favorite pair of clean jeans for school tomorrow.

There's a world of difference between selflessness and enabling, in the end. I will still continue to give of my time to teach my children. I will still drop everything when one of my children's hearts is broken. I won't buy that new dress so my 12 year old can have a new pair of shoes. I will still start every homeschool day with Bible time with my children, even if it means that I don't get time to sit with my favorite mystery book this afternoon. I will go to bat for them. I will "mama bear" for them. I will pray for them.

I will not continue to allow my children to interrupt my personal devotion time because they can't figure out #12 on their math paper. I will, instead, teach them to "hold that thought" until Mama isn't doing something. I will not continue to allow my children to vie for my husband's and my attention in the 10 minutes we have to talk each day. I will no longer put my health aside for craft time. I will teach my children that our bodies are God's bodies, and need to be cared for. I will no longer allow a failure to plan on my children's part to become an emergency on my part. I will teach them that when we fail to do what we need to do for ourselves we must deal with the consequences.

I absolutely want to be a parent that my children see as loving, selfless, and Godly. But I also absolutely want my children to stand out in the world and be able to know that they will make it,  because they have God and can do their own laundry. I'm not there yet. I have a long way to go towards practicing what I preach, but I will strive to do better. And it only took me one hour and 45 minutes to do this blog so that's a first step.

Easy Now....

I recently subscribed to a homeschool daily devotion, as always looking for a bit of encouragement. A few weeks ago I opened my daily email ready to find tidbits of support. I should have known that nothing good happens at 5:15 in the morning. The devotion for the day was written by a homeschool mother who was guilt ridden because she had let the day before pass without sweeping her kitchen floor. She went on to tell how she had let God and her family down for letting her housework slide and not doing her best. I reread the devotion. And again. I thought about the crumbs in my kitchen floor. I thought about the small dog that could possibly be made from the dust bunnies of dog hair that were floating around my foyer. I beat myself up for an hour or so about all the tasks that I had not been able to get to because I homeschooled a bit long the day before or had to get my son to band practice....or, and this is the bad one, watched 15 extra minutes of Downton Abbey. I tortured myself over the knowledge that God loves order and the clean laundry in my living room was out of order.

This went on for another hour (ok, a few days) and then, finally, God said, "Easy now...Just do your best." And I had to think about that for a good long while, too. Here's the thing, ladies: God is there in the dust bunnies and the laundry. He doesn't leave you when you just can't get to everything. He's saying, "Easy now..." But for some reason, we as women want it to be perfect. And we never get there and then proceed to beat ourselves up about that. Or allow others to goad us into feeling as though we haven't quite hit the mark because we haven't lost that weight or finished that book we've started 3 times. We want to do it all. But what I've realized is, as long as we do our absolute best in what we've been called by God to do, then we are doing ok. For the woman who wrote the homeschool devotion, maybe that was not her best. She felt as though she had missed the mark. As yet, I have not been whispered to by God about the laundry in my living room or the piles of magazines I keep saying I'm going to go through. I have been convicted by God though, about believing what society tells me is the definition of who I am and trying too hard to live up to the expectations of others. I have been convicted of trying too hard to get it all perfect and missing opportunities to sit and snuggle my babies. God does love order. But I believe he also loves balance. I believe he is saddened when we speak unkindly to ourselves. I believe he is saddened when we are mean to ourselves because we believe what society tells us. I don't want to live in squalor, but I'm tired of being mean to myself. I'm going to let a couple of dust bunnies float by today while I teach my children. I'm going to let the laundry sit today while I teach a small group of youth at church. I'm going to do my best at what I've been called to do and not worry about the rest.

All You Need Is Love??

On the eve of a holiday that some wait for all year and others find an annoyance, I am tackling the subject of....you guessed it....love. But not romantic love. Love for your family (even the ones who work your nerves). Love for the person who always looks lonely in church but that you've been too busy to talk to. Love for your enemies. Yes, I'm going there.

In my house on Valentine's Day there are no flowers. Say what?? I have never gotten flowers on Valentine's Day from my husband or children. And I think that's awesome. Some women LOVE flowers and feel pampered and beyond special when they receive them and that is great. I like flowers and am happy and thankful when I receive them. I walk by them, smell them, and bask in their beauty. But my family knows the real way to my heart because they have taken the time to find out about my heart. Pajamas, coffee, chocolate, a Beatles mug, now that's what I'm talking about. Or, better yet, bring coffee to me before I am out of bed in the morning and still drooling a little. That is love. A sweet love note from one of the kids that I think never notices my blood, sweat, and tears. A thank you from the preteen son that has just noticed that his life is better for me being his mom. That is love.

The Bible says we are to love our enemies. I'm thinking that most of you are not making a list right now of what you want to send your vilest enemy for Valentine's Day. I'm thinking that a lot of people think loving their enemies is just not saying all the horrible things that cross their mind to that person's face. But just what would happen if we wrote a love note to our worst enemy on earth or the guy that tried to run down you and your 3 children in the parking lot of Walmart. I'm not talking about, "Love you lots, sweetie, honey, MWAH!" I'm thinking more along the lines of, "Heard you were sick. Hope you are feeling better!" Or, "Hey, let me pay for your coffee." You never know what an act of kindness could do or on what road that person is walking. And really in the end, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we were called to love. Taking 5 minutes to look into that person's heart and show love from your heart is what we are called to do.

Nobody said it would be a cake walk, but then the things that matter rarely are. So choose a someone today. Someone at work, church, home, the cashier in the grocery line, whomever. Love them. What could it cost you? Take time to know the heart of someone you would never think could be the best friend you ever had. Love them.

Part of the Crowd

Last week I talked about being doers. Getting up off the couch and doing that marathon. Taking that class and getting a degree. You know, big things you see your neighbors doing or in commercials on TV. Well, here is the problem. Where does the motivation come from?? I have some utterly fabulous friends and family who are doing the "From Couch to 5K" training, which promises to turn them from couch potatoes to runners with just a few minutes a few times a week. Sounds easy enough and I am enjoying watching them do this from afar (I will even be their cheerleaders at said 5K) but I lack the one thing I need to jump up and join them. Motivation. I see them doing it, and think, "Good on them!" I just have no desire to be with them. Maybe in March or November or 2014 I will have a desire to run a 5K. But not today. And that is OK. That is not my dream or my passion. I would only be a sheep if I suddenly decided at 2:45 today to sprint to the mailbox. So, I must go in search of my passion, my goal, my hurdle....my thing. 

In the last year I have identified a couple of my things. I became passionate about the education my children were receiving and changing the style and tone of said education. So slowly, our family prayed, discussed, and planned our next step. Homeschool. Terrifying word for some, a joke to others. Here again, baby steps were called for. I love it and believe my children are receiving the education that best suits them. Friends of mine probably think I'm a bit crazy for doing this. I can live with that because my desire to do this rules over any misgivings. And I've had a few. Do I expect anybody else to follow me into this? I sure do not. I often tell people that as with anything, homeschool has its pros and cons but this is what is working for us.

Let's not be sheep. Maybe you saw the guy in the yoga video and thought, "I would love to be able to do that." Go do it. Maybe someone asked you to go on a church mission trip to a foreign country and you thought, "Yes, I have a heart for that!" Go do it. Maybe, someone asked you to go on a mission trip to a foreign country and you thought, "I'd rather be tarred and feathered." Maybe that isn't your thing. It's entirely possible your thing will be different than everybody else's and that's OK too. Your assignment for today is to decide one thing that might be your thing. Not your neighbor's or your spouse's or your zumba teacher's thing, your thing. And notice I didn't say 10 or 20 things, just one. Focus. Decide. Do.