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Survivor’s (Wife’s) Guilt

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Last fall, Hubs found a ping-pong-ball size lump on his back and it turned out to be cancer:  a sarcoma, which is a rather rare type of cancer. After two surgeries (the first doctor did not suspect cancer) and a course of radiation, Hubs passed his first 6-month check last spring.

That is, of course, the best news I can hope for. I was able to share that good news with one of the moms from school, whose own husband was recently diagnosed with sarcoma. It’s always good to share hope. And, to be honest, it’s easy to share hope.

This dad, who has kids ranging from 11 to 17, had surgery earlier this week. This afternoon I found out that his cancer is stage 4.

Hope is not so easy to share with someone whose husband’s cancer is more advanced and more threatening than my husband’s was. I’m sure that the last thing she wants is for me to tell good-news stories. I’m sure that she is scared and angry and scared and worried and scared out of her mind…and did I mention scared?

I am offering prayers daily. I’m allowing Little Brother to invite her youngest to visit as often as possible. I’m keeping my mouth shut about Hubs being a survivor. She already knows, and I don’t see any sense in mentioning it again. Frankly, I feel terrible about this. 

What can I say or do to extend my support?

Guilty.

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Because no one can give a guilt trip like a mom.

Yesterday I was on the phone with my mom, and the topic turned to the grandchildren she rarely sees. Maybe she was venting and not just laying on the guilt, but I am guilty of not getting there as often as she (or I) would like.

Image
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike…

Big Brother hasn’t seen my parents since Easter. I brought the other kids up to see them sometime in June. And we probably won’t be getting together before school starts again. Big Brother returns to campus Sunday night, so he definitely won’t be traveling the 100 miles (each way) to see Nannie and Grandpa.

My mom has been understanding and supportive about the reasons we’re not getting there. She knows what weekend traffic on the NJ Turnpike is like. She knows that TheDad has been beyond swamped at work. And she knows that we rarely get a weekend “off” from taking care of my mother-in-law. (Since Easter, we’ve had 2 free weekends. Yes, I’m counting. Mea culpa…)

There are a lot of things I wish I could do differently. Seeing my family more is definitely one of them. Time and distance and circumstance make it difficult–but I have to find a way to do this better.

I want to be able to enjoy my parents while they are still enjoying their good health.

But right now, I just don’t know how I can fix this.

Down the Rabbit Hole

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The fact that I am writing this right now proves that the internet has robbed me of the ability to concentrate.

Too! Many! Shiny! Things!

Right now, I am supposed to be working, as in writing two blog posts for The New Parents Guide, at least one for DealLocker and maybe even one for Tjoos. Then I need to make out my end-of-month invoice and submit it to the people who pay me.

But here’s how it went down:

Tomorrow’s August, so I went hunting for the fun and strange “holidays” that come up every month. Those help me come up with topics for NPG’s blog.  I pasted the August list into OneNote, where I keep topic ideas for the blogs.

I saw that August 1-7 is “Simplify Your Life Week” and I remembered that I’d seen a tweet about an article Jen Fulwiler wrote about organization. So I went over there to read it. (Don’t miss it, by the way! It’s great!) I completely related to the parts about lack of focus, because there I was in the same boat, except without the babies and toddlers in the house.

The oven bell went “ding!” so I headed into the kitchen to pull the meatballs out of the oven. 

ImageI opened up a new post at NPG, intending to sing the praises of sling bookcases (see Jen’s post for details or stop by NPG on Thursday to see more on this subject).

The UPS truck pulled up and delivered a box of coffee packs for my Keurig. Even though I had ordered this coffee and therefore knew exactly what was in the box, I stopped what I was doing so I could open the box and admire all that coffee.

I opened one of the boxes right away and put the K-cups into the little storage drawer so they’d be ready for the morning.

Then I stirred the spaghetti sauce.

I remembered that I want to talk up a tip for making even-more-awesome spaghetti sauce on my cooking Facebook page, so I wrote a note in my planner to remind myself to do that.

I saw a note in my planner reminding me of tonight’s folk-group practice, so I went back to my email to print out the list of music I’ll need.

I refilled my water glass. I ignored the fact that there’s laundry I need to move to the dryer and fresh sheets to put on my bed. But I won’t be able to ignore that for long.

Between the household chores and the Internet’s lures, I’m never going to get my work done today. I’m considering switching to a two-browser system:  one for work and one for Everything Else. Because I’ve got 16 browser tabs open right now, and that’s way too many things screaming for my attention.

Now that that’s out of my system, I’m off to work. I think I’ll just set a timer to help me focus on the job at hand. When the little bell rings, THEN I can get up and do something else.

 

Pizza Ordering FAIL

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We’re getting pizza for dinner tonight. Little Brother begged us to let him call and order.

ImageI told him the phone number. He dialed. It rang many times.

Eventually someone answered.

Little Brother:  “Wait. What are we going to order? Hang on a minute.”

The pizza shop hung up on him.

I don’t blame them one bit.

Lawn Chair Catechism 4.0

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It’s time again for Lawn Chair Catechism at CatholicMom.com!Image

 

This week we are reading chapter 3 of Forming Intentional Disciples by Sherry Weddell.

A study guide for the entire book is provided here. You don’t even have to read the book to participate in the discussion (either here or at the CatholicMom main link for this chapter) but this is an excellent book that really makes you stop and think about a lot of things you might be taking for granted–or be missing entirely and not even realize it.

This chapter, to be honest, was a difficult one for me to read. It brought up–again–all those feelings I had when I read the introduction to this book. I put off writing about this chapter for a little while, which turned out to be a good thing, because I was able to stop focusing on the whole issue of my own failings in this area and instead found an area in which there has been some success–for myself and, I think, for others.

So I’ll focus on part of the “In Your Parish” section of the discussion questions:

What success stories can you share? In what ministries of your parish is “discipleship thinking” the norm? In what areas is Christian discipleship not yet the standard for ministry?

At the beginning of the chapter, I confess, I was experiencing real feelings of jealousy as I read about the dynamic parish the author described. The pews are full! The kids are there! Everyone’s engaged! Why can’t my parish have that?

I started thinking about the capital campaign that my parish is currently running. In the parish described in chapter 3, that wouldn’t even be an issue. Of course, the parish described in chapter 3 has not just gone through a parish merger within the last 5 years. Want to mess with people’s connection to the Church? Merge (or close) their parish. There has to be a better way. I think our parish has weathered the storm better than many others in the area, but it has been difficult in many ways and, yes, many people have walked away.

But then I started thinking about “charism.” On page 92, “charism” is described as a “‘gratuitious grace’ given to a member of the body of Christ to empower him or her to build up the Church and to witness Christ to the world.” And I started thinking about what’s on my calendar for tonight.

My charism is music. Music, for me, is a way to serve, a way to pray, a way to build community. When I was a fourth-grader beginning piano lessons, my music teacher encouraged all her students to occasionally come with her to the Masses she played at a local parish. She would play the organ, and we children would sing. Two songs that were always on the menu:  “Seek Ye First” and “All Creatures of Our God and King.” In harmony–with almost no rehearsal. I was blessed to have the experience, at the age of 9, 10, 11 years old, of using song as a form of worship. I have never stopped.

For over 30 years I have been part of folk groups–at the various parishes where I’ve lived and at the music ministries of 3 universities. In my current parish, I believe that our folk group has become for me (and I hope for others) a means to discipleship.

Folk groups are not the most popular ensembles for church music these days. And I will be the first to admit that there are times when we are not as reverent as we could and should be. However, we know what we are there to do, and we take that very seriously. We are not there to perform for the priest, the congregation, or for God. We are there to lead the congregation in sung prayer.

When we get together for our Wednesday night practice (also known as folk-group therapy) we are intentional about making sure the hymns we use are accessible to the assembly. Sometimes that means we transpose the music. Sometimes that means we rearrange the hymn selection within the Mass, or swap out one hymn for another as needed. We smile when we see little kids dancing in the pews to the entrance hymn. That means they are feeling the joy that we feel as we play and sing. Our goal is always to sing it like we mean it–and to inspire the assembly to do the same. When people approach us and tell us that we make it easy for them to be able to sing at Mass, we know we are doing our job.

I am blessed to be part of the folk group at my parish. We make a commitment to get together to rehearse each week. During that rehearsal, we practice the music. We discuss the lyrics. We share what we do (or do not) like about particular hymns. All of that makes us better musicians and better ministers. We also laugh together (a lot) and even cry together. Our bond has made us better friends and better ministers.

Hopefully it is making us better disciples.

Adrenalin Overload

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Great band name, hm? It’s been keeping me from sleeping these last couple of days.
I’m a mess right now, as a result.
A year ago today I could barely get off the couch as I recovered from endometriosis surgery. This week I have been coordinating and serving dinner for 130, 5 out of 7 nights, for the high-school musical’s Tech Week. It’s a tradition at school to get all the actors, crew, and musicians together for dinner an hour before rehearsal begins during that last week of rehearsals before opening night. It’s fun. And it’s exhausting.
I have had a lot of help; about 18 people volunteer each night to help set up, serve and clean up. But the vanload of paper supplies and other items is all mine, every night.
I’m surviving right now with the help of caffeine, Advil, and my heating pad. I have to say, the physical work is taking its toll, and I come home sore every single night–despite all the helpers. It’s nothing like the pain I was in before the surgery; well, it’s in the same place, but it’s not as intense. (I’m not worried about the pain. I’m working muscles that haven’t been worked too hard in quite a while, and I’m seriously out of shape.)
And then my inner cynic gets going. This is one of those jobs that needs to get done but nobody wants to do. It’s work, but it’s not terrible. People are thanking me up, down and sideways for doing this job, and after a while I start to wonder:  “Am I doing that good a job, or are they just happy that they don’t have to be the one to do it?”
Does it really matter?
I just smile and say I couldn’t do it without all the helpers, because that’s true. It takes a village to serve 130 people dinner every night.
It’s a pleasure, even with the pain and the fatigue. I’ve met a bunch of nice parents, gotten my fix of polite high-school students, staff and alumni, and tasted some amazing salads and cookies.
Tonight I will enjoy the night off and laugh with some friends–and, hopefully, get a good night’s sleep.

Pray Your Way Through It: A Rosary, A Giveaway and a Twitter-Style Interview with Author Sarah Reinhard

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It’s my honor to be among the reviewers, promoters and pray-ers in the Rosary Blog Tour for author Sarah Reinhard‘s new book–the first in the Catholicmom.com series from Ave Maria Press. The book is called A Catholic Mother’s Companion to Pregnancy: Walking with Mary from Conception to Baptism.

This is no ordinary “What to Expect” type of book, although it does include some information on the physical changes that mom and baby experience during pregnancy. It is more of a spiritual guide through pregnancy, touching on areas that most pregnancy “instruction manuals” won’t give more than a passing mention. It’s the book I wish I had back before each of my kids was born. (It’s not just for first-time mamas!)

Sarah is all about Twitter–I guess because as a mom of 3 kids under 8, it’s hard to think in more than 140 characters at a time. So when she offered to do an interview, I decided to borrow one of her own techniques and ask her to reply to the question in the form of tweets. You’ll have to follow her on Twitter, however, to appreciate her amazing use of the hashtag.
You have 3 young children. How did you manage to find the time to write this book?
It was made possible mostly by 3 people: my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, & best friend. I also squeezed writing in during fits & starts.
Besides the Blessed Mother, is there any other saint who particularly inspires you as a parent?
A whole host of them! St Joseph in a special way, as well as Monica, Therese the Little Flower, Elizabeth Ann Seton, & Francis deSales.
What’s the best advice you can give to an expectant mom who’s not having an easy time of it?
Look to the prize at the end and grip Mary’s hand as hard as you need to (she can take it).
Are you afraid of being considered a pessimist because your book focuses on difficulties moms can experience during pregnancy?
If pregnancy is a walk in the park, we need to acknowledge the weeds & thorns too, right? But there’s hope & that’s not pessimistic at all.
In each chapter, you list “One Small Step,” in the form of a prayer activity. What’s the one that made the most difference to you during your pregnancies?
Eucharistic Adoration, hands-down, no competition. Laying my head in Jesus’ lap, letting him carry me & the rest, transformed & blessed me.
To celebrate the launch of her new book, A CatholicMother’s Companion to Pregnancy: Walking with Mary from Conception to Baptism, Sarah Reinhard invites all of us to spend her blog book tour praying the rosary together. Today, she shares this reflection on the Scourging at the Pillar:

There’s no doubt it was painful to be scourged. Jesus’s flesh was torn by the shards on the end of the whips.
Picture the people observing. There’s no reason to suspect the Romans would have had any fondness for him, but in the crowd of leering, goading people, there had to be people who had listened to Jesus’s preaching. There must have been people who were close to him, who had even cheered him on in his ministry and encouraged his miracles. It’s possible that his mother was there, too, seeing her son ripped to shreds.
What must it have felt like to see those people laughing and even enjoying the scourging? How must Jesus have felt in their betrayal? How much more did it hurt, knowing his mother—who had also done no wrong—was suffering as she watched (or would suffer later while seeing him)?
We’ve all experienced betrayal. There’s a special sting when we find out that someone who seemed to be our number-one fan maybe isn’t so much or seems to have changed his or her mind. There’s also a prick I often give myself, thinking that I know what someone else thinks of me. I’ll get myself all worked up, thinking that Susie believes I’m a total idiot about the decision I made (and am standing by).
Is it worse to be betrayed or to be flogged for something we didn’t do? I change my mind on this, depending on the day.
The lesson in this mystery is one that I need: Jesus understands. Oh boy, does he understand. Maybe he wasn’t ever pregnant with his fourth kid and up to his ears in housework and feeling the pressure of a distant family member to come visit as soon as the baby’s born. Having gone through the exact scenario isn’t necessarily a prerequisite for being able to understand though. Can’t you picture his pain and torture in this mystery? Can’t you imagine, to some extent, the horror and weight of it?
Turn to Jesus, in this mystery, and tell him about what scourges you. Give him the heaviest burden you have, the one you think he will least understand. Use this mystery as your common ground, as the place where you meet him. Let him guide you to the place of blessing, where the pain might make sense or have a purpose, perhaps even eternally.

As we pray this decade of the rosary, let’s hold all those brave women who have said yes to difficult and challenging motherhood in our intentions in a special way. Don’t forget, too, that we are praying for an increase in all respect life intentions as part of our rosary together this month. (If you’re not familiar with how to pray the rosary, you can find great resources at Rosary Army.)
Our Father . . . 
10 – Hail Mary . . .
Glory Be . . . 
O My Jesus . . . 

You can find a complete listing of the tour stops over at Snoring Scholar. 

Now for the fun part: you can WIN STUFF!

Be sure to enter to win a Nook (and any number of other goodies) each day of the tour over at Ave Maria Press.

And I have TWO copies of this book to give away to lucky readers of this blog. If you’d like to win a copy of the book, just leave a comment below. I will keep the giveaway open through 11:59 PM EDT on October 26, the last day of the Rosary Blog Tour.

UPDATE:  Giveaway closed! Comments #1 and #4 are the winners and will be contacted so I can arrange delivery of their prizes.

Quick and Random

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Thank you for the birthday wishes I received here after TheDad “hacked” my blog on Saturday.  I received some nice presents:  a doughnut pan and extra-large dark chocolate bar from Middle Sister, a Pullman bread pan from Big Brother (yes, I asked for kitchen stuff for my birthday!) and on Sunday, TheDad is taking me into New York City so we can see “Sister Act” on Broadway.  That’s going to be fun!

Little Brother and the Street Urchins are making me crazy here.  Two are taking turns with “Bop It” and the third is playing a “Paper Jamz” guitar.  Let it be known that I am not responsible for bringing either of those nefarious, noisy toys into my house.  It’s almost at the point where I’m willing to let them play a video game just to shut them up, except that I suspect that this is their evil plan, so I’m holding out as best I can.

I spent 6 hours of my birthday in the car (with my family) so we could go to my sister’s and celebrate my niece’s graduation.  It was worth the trip.  This is the longest car trip I’ve taken since right before I had surgery in April, and I’m not gonna lie:  it took its toll.  I had a backache until Monday.  But it was great fun to spend time with my family, and one of my other nieces made me a birthday cake from scratch, featuring the new nickname she and her sister have bestowed upon me.

I am coming to terms with the fact that while my weight has not changed since surgery, things have rearranged a bit, so some of my clothes no longer fit.  Actually, I had to break down and buy a couple of pairs of (gasp!) Mom Jeans, since those are the only ones with a high enough waist to work.  Waistbands and incision scars don’t mix well.  Middle Sister is going to be horrified.  But I’m looking at it this way:  most people who have surgery at a cancer center cannot say that they’re relatively healthy–I can.  I came out of the whole thing with a large scar, hot flashes every hour, and a fashion challenge.  There is every reason to be grateful, even for the Mom Jeans.

It’s about time for a battery-ectomy on a couple of electronic toys…

Today is My Birthday! (….or I shouldn’t leave my blogger account open when I go to sleep)

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Happy birthday!

(I will be setting the tent up in the back yard, as I think even the couch will not be an option when she wakes up and sees this)

P.S. On August 5th, you are busy.

Your DH
TheDad

The Agony and the Dentistry

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Want to really see me go over the edge? Send me to the dentist. It’s definitely a Near Occasion of Anxiety for me.

I have cried at the dentist’s before, when I was told just how much work had to be done. I think this was either shortly before or shortly after Little Brother was born. I remember being so upset that day that the dentist decided not to start the work then, because I was just barely keeping it together.

The past couple of years, I have avoided the dentist. I have neglected my own dental health as well as my children’s, because none of us liked the dentist we were seeing (what did it for me: she asked if all my children were “from the same marriage.”) And then Middle Sister chipped a tooth and I had a loose crown, so we went to a new-to-us dentist on Wednesday.

I was holding it together well, I thought, even though Middle Sister took every opportunity to light into me for not keeping up on her dental care. I listened to him explain that I would need a mouth guard because I grind my teeth, and that he didn’t like the looks of the crown; it would come out again, he said, if I didn’t take care of the grinding. I stayed calm. I took the news like an adult and figured I’d just deal with it.

I did not expect to lose that crown 3 days later while eating fajitas. I’m just glad it happened in my own home. But now I look like a hockey player (it’s a canine tooth), and I can’t get an appointment until Thursday to fix this.

Lovely.

I have 3 more days to wig out, and I’m doing just that, thankyouverymuch. I really wish that I had just insisted on getting all my teeth pulled out on that day years ago when I broke down in the dentist’s office and had to be sent home.

Is there Novocaine that works on the emotions? Because I need some.