What's my name???

A month or so ago, I posted about our glipse of the teenage years when overnight I went from "Mommy" to "Mom." These days, KIC mixes the two and mostly uses "Mom" when she's exasperated with me. While I'd like to tell you that KIC very rarely gets exasperated with me, that couldn't be farther from the truth. It's a well known fact that KIC is much smarter than me, a fact that she drives home on a regular basis.

In the Shoup House, Brent and I refer to each other as "Mommy" and "Daddy" or "honey." On occasion, when I'm irritated with Daddy, I'll employ a long, drawn out "Breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeent", which is very quickly parroted by KIC. I'm sure my giggles are egging KIC on which has lead to her retaining Daddy's "real" name very well. Not so much my name. To be fair, I secretly believe that not even Daddy remembers my name most of the time. It always shocks me when he uses my name. But I digress.

This weekend, KIC and I had the privilege of" hanging with my parents in Virginia Beach. Nowhere in the world is there any place where my name is used more or with that many inflections. KIC picked up on this, so while I was downstairs discussing something with my mom, I heard "Kellllllllyyyyyyyyy, Kellyyyyyyyyyyyyy, Kelly!, Keeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllyyyyyyy". It finally dawned on me that it was KIC upstairs calling my name!!! Talk about a quick study. Rest assured, I let her know that to her, my name was "Mommy" not "Kelly" and that she should use "Mommy" from that point on. Don't think that was the end of it, as a couple of more "Kellys" came out over the weekend. This momma is not a granola, touchy feely kind of momma so if the Kellys don't stop, it may be time for drastic measures. ;-)

Turning the Tide

This is a post that has been weighing heavy on my mind for a couple of weeks. I generally try to keep things lighthearted because really, there's enough sadness in the world, who needs to read about more?? Sometimes, it's just good to cleanse, and well, apparently my blog is a place where I can purge.

To start with Mayhem has returned to the Shoup house. His return is due to the combination of him being an idiot and me putting him in a position where he could be an idiot. I was so hopelessly idealistic in thinking that he could get what he needed with this family who was so obviously ill-equipped to deal with his issues. He's a difficult dog to place for sure (strong, hard headed, hates little dogs) but he's such a sweet goofy boy with us that it's so very hard when a placement for him doesn't work out. While it's true we are far tolerant than most people I know (and talk to), I can't believe he is so completely damaged that he's unadoptable. But at the same time, it has damaged me in ways I can't explain. All he needs is someone who can understand HIS inabilities (I sure as heck am not going to call them disabilities) and embrace them and love him in spite of himself. Surely there's someone other than our family who can provide that for him. And really, don't we all need someone who is willing to look past our inabilities and embrace who we are? Aren't we all just damaged goods in some way, just trying to make a role and a life for ourselves with minimal impact upon others?

An awesome coworker of mine went through a pretty crazy ordeal when her daughter had a choking accident (you can read about her at http://colofisch.blogspot.com). I'll be honest and say that before the accident, I was fairly impervious to disabilities and the frailties of human life. Her daughter and KIC are not far apart in age, so the accident had a profound affect on me. That could have been MY kid. Even though it wasn't, I couldn't rejoice that it wasn't my kid. I could only pray and hope for healing for my friend and her family. In the meantime, I really started to take notice of people with disabilities and try to be more empathetic as opposed to dismissive. I've also started to pay attention to how other people view disabilities. On one of my favorite TV shows, in particular, there was a discussion where two people carried a recessive gene that increased the likelihood of blindness in their unborn child. To add my own dramatic flair, they gnashed their teeth and blamed themselves for carrying a gene that could inflict such an injustice on a helpless, blameless infant. I quickly lost patience for that story line, as I have learned, there are far worse things than a child who is born blind, or deaf, or with an extra chromosome. Why don't we celebrate life instead of focusing on the imperfections? Why don't we speak with people with disabilities instead of shunning them because they are different?

My friend has used her experience to mentor others and to start a project in Colorado that encourages healing, and finding hope in places that you'd least expect. She's blown the "minimal impact" attitude out of the water and brought about peace and change in so many people, with an eye to impact several hundred more people. So from this day forth, I will do the same. Well, maybe not with a ginormous project cuz really, who has that kind of time (and yes, I know, I'm making excuses). From this day forward, I'm going to embrace differences and trials and tribulations and spit them out into something that has a positive impact on the world! I'm going to kick depression and self doubt in their collective patoots and flip the bird to adversity! And tomorrow, when I wake up, I'll do it all over again! I'll stop here before you start hearing Howard Dean's voice in your head.

Thank you for reading this post. I promise more light and airy to come. While you're waiting for me to come back with a song, you can check out my new blog and let me know if you're interested in being a guest blogger:

http://threethingsparenting.blogspot.com/

High praise indeed

As parents, we all want to encourage good behaviors, so we do what works to get the results we want. In the Shoup House, tons and tons of praise is lavished on all parties. "Good job on dinner, Mommy" and "thank you for doing the laundry, Daddy" are often heard in our house, along with the standard "yeah, KIC, you went pee pee in the potty ALL BY YOURSELF!!!!". Mommy continues to cook for everybody, daddy continues to do laundry and KIC continues to pee in the potty ALL BY HERSELF!

I was recently the recipient of unexpected praise. On Tuesday, when I got home from work early, I decided to start dinner. This is not an unusual occurrence, but what was unusual is the fact that I decided to grill the steaks. The grill is Brent's domain, and I'm content to keep it that way, I just wanted to eat dinner sooner rather than later (ie I was STARVING). to toot my own horn a bit, I had never grilled before, a fact which did not escape KIC. After I successfully lit the grill and left it to preheat, she turned to me and said "Good job, Mommy, you didn't get me on fire!"

I hope the fact that I managed to cook without lighting my child on fire gets me nominated for Mother of the year. The fact that KIC was surprised that I DIDN'T light her on fire should be an indication of her confidence in my skills (or lack thereof) and should shoot me right to the to top of the nomination pile. That, or alert the CPS authorities. Here's hoping it's the former. And the next time you grill out, don't forget to praise the grill master on not lighting any small children on fire.

This and That

Once again, it has been a long time since my last blog. Our days, nights, weeks, weekends, months, years remain a blur of constant activity. Instead of stringing paragraphs together, I'll try to condense life at the Shoup house in bullets:

- I neglected to thank my husband and daughter for their incredible support during my second Breast Cancer walk endeavor. Giving up time with me is no small feat, especially given how much fun it is to hang with the famjam. They'll never truly know how much their love and support mean to me, but it's important that I acknowledge their sacrifices in conjunction with mine.

- KIC has gone three months without an ear infection, which is a huge blessing and in large part to her last surgery. We had a follow up with the ENT who said Kaitlyn's ears looked great. We were not able to get her hearing tested as her utter disdain for someone outside her inner circle makes any kind of interaction difficult, but we're working on it.

- May was a busy month in terms of actual and potential animal adoptions. The nearly drowned kitten, Olivia, went to a wonderful home that loves and adores her already. Jade, our older foster kitty went home with a college student that couldn't wait to dote on her. Pistol Annie will soon be going to her forever home, provided she gets along with the resident cat (though I don't know that you can call him a house cat since he weighs 30 lbs) with my parents. Annie needs a lot of TLC and I know that my mom can give her all the attention she deserves, so I'm very excited about this! Last but not least, our very own Mayhem is going to his potential forever home for a two week trial this Friday. We wish he and his new family much success. They can't wait to take him sailing with them on their boat and given his real name, this is fitting for him. Here's hoping they don't go on a misguided "three hour tour." ;-)

- Brent completed a very difficult trail marathon in preparation for his 50 mile marathon this upcoming fall. He was very pleased with his time, and in true "iron man" fashion, he left the race and went to work until 2 am that same night. But he got a cool shirt out of the deal! ;-)

- KIC continues to tell anyone who will listen about her sister at home. Sometimes she mixes it up and throws a brother into the mix, but she's consistent about having a sibling at home. Since I was recently advised not to drink the water at a certain establishment I frequent (day care) due to the sheer number of people who are pregnant, I don't think KIC's prophecy will be fulfilled any time soon.

That's all for now. More on the black hole that my life has become later! Stay hydrated. 103 degrees in DC today! Shoooooooooo buddy!

Reflection

K, y'all, this is going to be a post where I get all serious like.

This weekend, I participated in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Boston, MA. I think you have to do two of these events to truly appreciate what your role means in the grand scheme of things. The first event was kind of a lark for me. I wanted to see how far I could push my body. The fundraising and comraderie were secondary. Because I didn't know what to expect, my discoveries overrode the experience. And, for those that know me, while my training was okay, I could, and should have done more. At the end of the event, I was satisfied. I walked 39.3 miles in Washington, DC. I endured semi-miserable weather (well, miserable for a walking event), a sprained ankle and unbearable humidity to be able to say "I drove myself farther than I've eer gone before and honored my aunt and my grandmother for their winning battles." I was done. I wasn't going to do it any more. The fundraising was hard, the walk harder, and saying that people had it way worse in fighting the disease was cold comfort. As soon as I crossed the finish line, I dropped my pack, grabbed my gear and went home. I was more affected by what I endured (sobbing openly like a child when I saw my daughter) than what I was making possible.

Then I had a conversation with a friend who was battling breast cancer for the second time. I saw her after her second surgery and her positive attitude blew me away. My aunt and grandmother had their battles in the 80s. While I was aware that things could turn for the worse for them, I wasn't aware of what their battles were like. To see my friend, days after losing her second breast, congenial, lovely and just so ALIVE, I was inspired. So I decided to walk again, only this time, I would raise more, I would train better and I would bring a POSSE with me! That's right, we would be a breast cancer fighting POSSE!!!!

I won't bore you with the details, but some of that didn't happen. I inspired others to walk in different cities, so that was awesome! I raised more money than I had the year before, and that was outstanding! But I let things interfere with my training. I sprained my ankle a month out from the walk, and any hope of training was dimmed. My posse had dwindled to one stalwart friend. My roars had died down to a whimper. My main hope was to survive the weekend. Definitely not a good way to go.

Something happened along the way. I began to appreciate the experience I was there for. I didn't have to do the full 26 the first day, and that was okay. I had good conversations with random people. The weather was perfect for walking, and seeing this great, historic city at my pace was awesome. I saw people with signs saying "I'm walking so my kids won't have to know this disease" or "I'm walking for my aunt who lost her battle" and "I'm walking for my mom". I saw an entire group of men who are there, not only to support the walk, but to support the walkers themselves. They carried everything a walker could possibly need: sunscreen, safety pins, duct tape. They carry you in song along the route and they give you high fives at the end of each day. I told my husband that when our daughter grows up, I want him to do the exact same thing. And at the end of the day, I got to enjoy the services offered, with minimal waiting: Yoga, massage and the Spaaaaaaaaah! Zone. The staff and volunteers were super supportive and friendly. The people along the route, who didn't know you from Adam, cheered you on and gave you Flavor Ice. I began to appreciate the community and the camraderie. I wasn't focused on the walk, I was focused on the experience and that made all the difference for me.

On the final day, since I was in a foreign city and would depend on a transportation service to get me back to my hotel, I was dependent on someone else. The transportation service wouldn't be running until after the closing ceremonies. I dreaded having to wait. The rain held off until the end of the walk, but I was drenched and just wanted to get back to my hotel to take a hot shower and change into warm dry clothes. Fortunately, we were able to stay inside while we waited. When it was time for the closing ceremony, the walkers lined in and filled corrals. But the middle corral was empty. As I stood there, I thought of nothing more than my sore feet and my hot shower. Suddenly, the corral started filling with breast cancer survivors. Oh, hey look, there's a guy. That's cool. And then, it happened. I saw a woman whose hair was fuzzy from growing back. As she looked around at all the people who were there support her in her fight against cancer, her face crumpled. She was not alone. I was suddenly grateful for the rain, as it meant my tears could mix in with the rain. THIS, this woman who was able to beat the cancer, my friend who beat it twice, my aunt, my grandmother...THIS is why this walk is so important.

I'd like to tell you that when I left closing ceremonies, my body no longer ached and my feet no longer hurt. Alas, that was not the case. But again, an amazing thing happened on the bus back to the hotel. I sat next to another survivor who won her battle three years ago. Because of her breast cancer surgery, she will forever have to wrap her arm so that it doesn't dangerously swell. She was happy to tell me that this was her second walk and her first walk was completed on her birthday. She was grateful not only for the chance to celebrate another birthday, but to be able to walk! Incidentally, today is her birthday. And as I walked off the bus, others I met throughout the weekend, said "Safe travels, Virginia". You can't buy an experience like that.

I hope that as you read this, you're inspired to participate in a cause you strongly believe in as well. It doesn't have to be breast cancer (though, really, who doesn't like boobies??), but find something that can center you as this did for me. You won't regret it for a second.

I'm already registered for Chicago next year and I will continue to try to build my posse. Because, in the immortal words of the Avon Walk Slogan "My name is Kelly, and I am in it to end it!"

MOM!

Shoo, buddy! I can't believe I haven't posted since March. Apparently, keeping up with other blogs has been consuming all my time. My friend, Crystal, introduced me to this handy little tool called the google reader that makes it easier for me to track my blogs, so I should have more time to stay on top of this one. We hope. I make no promises.

Lest you think this is a touching story about how much I value my role as a mom, let me assure you it is not. That is not to say I don't value my role, because I do, very much. This post is more to document just how quickly children grow up.

Mother's day was last weekend, May 8th. I woke up, not to a lovely breakfast, but to a child who overnight decided to become a teenager. I went to bed being called "Mommy" and woke up to being called "Mom." Stake through my heart, I tell ya! In the ensuing days, "Mommy" has returned, but I caught a glimpse of the teenage years and it was not pretty.

Later that week, we happened to pass KIC's bestie, Allie, and her parents who were walking their dog. God bless 'em cuz with the number of dogs we have, they are lucky if they get to go for a walk (and they know it too, so they appreciate it when they do get to go for walks...or unauthorized walkabouts having sprinted out the front door...semantics). Anyway, KIC generally speaking won't even so much as look a stranger in the eye, but Allie can get KIC to chatter away every single time. Not this night. Allie was doing her level best to engage KIC in conversation and KIC stared at Allie like Allie was speaking a foreign language. In KICs defense, we had just spent an hour at the vet, but she was not engaging Allie at all. Awkward. As we drove away, I asked her why she wasn't talking to Allie and she said it was because Allie would want to play! Have we started the "Shhhhh...tell them I'm not home" behavior already????

Most recently, KIC has started reinforcing the "taboo" words in the house. "We don't say soopid (stupid), we don't say shut up and we don't say I don't care or we'll get a spanking, right, Mommy?" "No, KIC, we don't get a spanking for those things." "We get a time out, right, Mommy?" This conversation replays itself frequently in our house. The other night, she took it a step further and when she got to the part about the spankings, she thrust out her tiny little butt (what little she has...I can say with certainty she didn't inherit my butt genes) and said "and we get a spanking right here" and pointed to her butt in a way that you would see in a hip hop video. When I asked for the full demonstration again, she very proudly displayed her butt and pointed to it again. In hindsight, perhaps watching Willow perform "Whip Your Hair" wasn't the smartest move after all. ;-)

Tomorrow, I start the first leg of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Boston. It's an important venture for me because so many people I love and admire have been affected by this disease and I'm honored to be able to participate. Lookout, blogverse...next year, I'm going to be recruiting even more folks for team "VA4BBS"!

Adding to the family, willy nilly

A couple of weeks ago, Kaitlyn told me she had a sister. When I asked her who her sister was, she replied "I don't know, but she's coming soon." I confirmed on Facebook, and I'll confirm again in this blog, I am not pregnant, no matter how much my daughter (apparently) wants the opposite to be true.

A couple of days ago, Kaitlyn informed me that we would be having a party. Since her birthday, she has been obsessed with parties, so I take this all in stride. When I asked her if she was having a party, she said "no, you're having a party." Okay, I thought I was done with entertaining for awhile, but I can throw a party for a worthy cause. "I'm having a party?", I naively asked. "Yes, for my daughter." I nearly drove off the road. I'm too young to be a grandmother!! That kind of killed any conversation right there as I contemplated why my daughter, at the tender age of three, thought she had a daughter....

Finally, yesterday, she told Miss PJ at school that she had a sister. I'm not sure if Miss PJ knows Kaitlyn doesn't actually HAVE a sister, but she played along anyway. When she asked Kaitlyn about her sister, Kaitlyn was not able to provide a name, but was able to tell Miss PJ that her sister "was as tall as my mommy." Hmmmmmmmm...That could fit a wide range of ages as I'm only a smidge bigger than a leprechaun.

So, to recap. In the span of two weeks, Kaitlyn has verbally added at least two members to our little family unit. As long as she keeps talking about her imaginary siblings and offspring and does not reveal my animal hoarding, I think I can count this as a positive thing.