Me...Age Gracefully?

I recently had my annual exam, you know, that special exam women look forward to every year. That one.

While I was waiting for my doctor there was a computer playing small videos about women's health, and a video came up about the effects of menopause on women's bodies.

Reduced bone mass. Hair loss. Headaches and hot flashes. And what they described as the "inevitable" build-up of fat in the abdominal area.

That word, "inevitable." Sounds like a challenge to me.

I thought to myself, "You wanna bet?" 

Yet as I've grown older I've noticed that my metabolism isn't what it used to be, even though my activity level is higher than when I was in my 20's. I've creeped up in clothing sizes over the years, and am near the point where my current size is getting a bit too snug.

When I completed the women's mud run a few weekends ago my legs didn't feel it but my shoulders and arms ached for days afterwards. I realized I have no upper body strength -- and why should I? All my sports revolve around running or skating.

So when my friend Gianna invited a group of her friends to a 60-day fitness challenge, I didn't have to think twice.

Beginning July 1 (that's tomorrow) I am starting the Beachbody workout challenge called "Insanity: Asylum," There are 13 of us in total taking this fitness challenge, encouraging each other to push ourselves to the next level, no matter what that level is. Practically everyone in the group is doing something completely different. Some are making diet changes while others aren't. But we are going to  hold each other accountable and see what we can do to improve our overall fitness.

So I am sharing here one of the photos from my "before" photo series. Hopefully I'll be seeing some improvements in the next 60 days that I'll be sharing with you. 

Some women want to age gracefully, but I plan to fight it every step of the way. Not with botox and cosmetic surgery, but with increasing distance runs, inline marathons, squats and push-ups. I will not go quietly into that good night, thank you very much. 

Stay tuned for an update in about 30 days!

Rewind to Father's Day

This year we had probably the most unusual Father's Day of any since Wayne became a dad. We were all supposed to be in Tracy, celebrating my father-in-law's birthday and Father's Day, but Lindsey and I ended up staying back in Minneapolis while Wayne and Marissa traveled to Tracy for the coveted visit. (How that came to be is a blog post for another day.)

Lindsey and I got to spend some special time together, and Sunday she wanted to surprise her dad with a special Father's Day party. We literally spent almost the entire day planning. She pulled out her idea book and decided that she wanted to make it a pillow and pop party. We decided that "pop" could mean soda pop that you drink or the popping sound that balloons make when they burst. So we walked down to Walgreens, bought some individual soda (or "pop" depending on where you're from) for all the family members, and some balloons. Lindsey made a sign, we filled balloons, and made every seat comfy with pillows from our beds.

Wayne and Marissa arrived back home around 7:30 at night, and then the festivities began, including a dessert of fudge brownies that Lindsey and I had made the day before. Not to mention some special beverages to go with Wayne's pop.

Wayne checks out Lindsey's sign.

Balloon fight!!

The evening was topped off with a balloon fight, and homemade presents from the girls. It was a special end to the day.

Showing Support for Pride

As I stated in an earlier post, I participated in Pride this past weekend, to show my support for the LGBT community in working to defeat the marriage amendment that is being brought to Minnesotans this November.

Some of you knew that I was doing more than just showing up and cheering on the parade, I was dancing!

I took part in a flash mob that occurred about half an hour before the parade was set to begin. This was coordinated with the Twin Cities Pride organizers -- since the street was already closed off and there was a sound system in the area, they had given us the green light. Which makes the cop car clearing the street in the middle of the dance all the more frustrating. But regardless, we danced through the interruption and had an awesome time.

Lindsey and I then stayed for the parade, which was one of the longest parades I've ever stood through. Yes, we didn't find seats, we stood the entire 2 1/2 hours. We did manage to get under shade, though, and Lindsey was the only child in about a half a block, so all the candy, treats and goodies were tossed her way, with no competition to retrieve them. She came away with quite a loot!


The Saloon float was accompanied by confetti tossed from the roof of their building.

 It was great to see all the floats and supporters. Many significant corporations including General Mills, Target, Best Buy, Macy's and others, not to mention just about every DFL candidate around. I shook the hand or got a high-five from Chris Coleman, St. Paul City mayor, R.T. Rybak, Minneapolis city mayor, Keith Ellison, District 5 representative in the US House of Representatives, Al Franken, US senator, and just missed shaking the hand of Amy Klobuchar, US senator. Obama had quite a presence as well, though he wasn't there in person. Not unless you count the cardboard cut-out, of course.

Loads of churches, and some interesting ones this year. There were the expected episcopal churches and unitarian churches who have welcomed gays for years. And then were was the Catholics for Marriage Equality group, just ahead of "J Pride," Jews who support gay rights, followed by the Mormon church.

I almost took some photos but decided to spend my time enjoying the parade, not wrestling others for a decent view. So instead I'll quote some of the best signs I saw:

We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.   -- Elie Wiesel, holocaust survivor, author and humanitarian.

Sorry we're late -- held up by Mormon church parade participant

Closets are for CLOTHES. Lots, and lots of fabulous clothes. -- held by a gay rights supporter

The message is lost a bit without the visuals, but you get the idea.

After the parade was over Lindsey and I stayed downtown to get lunch and avoid the press of the crowd heading out. We got a table right away at Rock Bottom Brewery, enjoyed a relaxing lunch and then took a pedicab to get back to the car, which I had conveniently parked behind a green dumpster along one of the streets neighboring Loring Park (there are three of them), even though I didn't remember the name of the street I parked on. Well planned. Our cabbie was awesome, he stopped several times and got directions on where the green dumpster was and dropped us off right at the car. He earned himself a super nice tip, especially for winning the race to the top of a hill against another pedicab driver who also had a fare.


Not us, but for those who don't know what a pedicab is.


We had a great time and Lindsey got to see how many people support families of all walks of life. I'll plan to be back again in 2013, hopefully to celebrate the defeat of the marriage amendment.

Sorry I'm Late to the Party

This weekend I am going to be at the Twin Cities Pride parade, showing my support for a group called Minnesotans United for All Families, who is fighting the marriage amendment that Minnesotans will be voting on this November. This amendment strictly defines marriage as existing between a man and a woman and makes it legally prohibitive to allow same-sex marriages.
I was telling some of my family what I will be doing this weekend and was surprised by their reaction, which was "I didn't know you were gay!" While said in jest, it said a lot about why gay rights haven't moved much in this country until recently.

I suspect that very sentiment is why so many straights have chosen not to support gay rights, at least publicly. "Gay" isn't something that is for the most part physically obvious, unlike race or gender. For many of us, fear of being classified with homosexuals kept us from standing up for their rights.

Yet if you look back in history, every time a group that had been discriminated against moved forward in their struggle for equality, it was because of the work of people outside of that group. There was not a single black person in Congress when slavery was abolished in 1865, not a single woman in a seat of power when women got the right to vote in 1920. And the civil rights movement of the 1960s could not have made the progress that it made without the support of whites who put their lives in danger to stand up for the rights of their fellow citizens.

I hadn't really thought about the impact of gays being denied the ability to marry until I heard stories from a good friend who is gay. She and her partner are incredibly committed to each other, as much if not moreso than any heterosexual couple. They own a house and have a child together, all of which has to be done at considerable legal expense to protect their rights.

I took for granted until talking to them the legal rights that I'm afforded in the home purchases my husband and I have made over the years. Buying a house as a married couple is easy -- our earning power and credit scores are pooled together and we own the home together. As a gay couple, they have to produce legal documents binding them financially in the purchase of the home and defining joint ownership. If they haven't already, they will have to take on the expense of having my friend adopt her own daughter, because she is biologically her partner's and not hers. If one of them were to die unexpectedly, the other would have no benefits as a surviving spouse. And don't even get me started on custodial rights of their daughter in that situation.

I suspect that lawyers LOVE same-sex couples and are voting for the marriage amendment -- it'll keep them in business.

I have looked on in frustration as state after state passed these marriage amendments, wishing there was something I could do to help. Now that the issue is being brought to the table in Minnesota, I am ready to stand up for my fellow citizens' rights.

I'm sorry I didn't speak up earlier or make my opinions more well known to support the LGBT community. Minnesotans United organizers encourage supporters to tell others that they support it -- once someone shares that they do, others will finally open up that they are also in agreement. I have a little bit bigger soapbox than others through this blog, so I am making my opinions known.

Sorry I'm late to the party. But I'm here now, so let's rock and roll.

Vote NO in NOvember.

Some People Have a Twisted Idea of Fun

I'm not sure why, but I thought a mud run sounded like a lot of "fun" and I convinced a friend to try one with me.

We drove an hour out of town to the farm where the mud run was being held, only to pull up next to two vehicles full of Lake Harriet moms we knew, who also had this same twisted idea of fun. They, however, had coordinated matching outfits and were 11 people strong. And of course, they had two extra outfits along with matching headbands, just in case they ran into other people who wanted to join their team.

Sure, because you may just run into parents from your children's school an hour out of town at a mud run. We threw the shirts on and joined the team!

The "Muddy Bunch," pre-race.

The organizers of the Lozilu (pronounced LOW-zee-loo) run bills itself as a mud run for women of any fitness level. According to their website, if you could walk a 5k you could complete the course, though the obstacles would be challenging. One of our group was at that level, having never run and only trained by doing a 1-mile walk earlier in the week. Others of our group, like my friend, Gianna, were fitness buffs, and one of our team members teaches tabata, a form of Japanese fitness that I learned about from her.

We decided at the beginning that we would start together and finish together, and we did.

Each obstacle had some silly name geared for women -- the 8-foot high fence below was called "Tan Lines," the swampy mud pit was called "Hot Mess," etc. Most had various levels, from 8-foot to 6-foot to 4-foot high walls for climbing, for every level.

At the "Tan Lines" obstacle.

I couldn't go over the wall that you see me hanging off of in this photo; I ended up walking around. I just couldn't bring myself to swing my leg over at the top of the wall, even though it was as easy to climb down as up.

And the mud pools were, well, muddy. But not just muddy. After all, this is a working farm that some farmer allowed the organization to use for this event. The soil had decades of natural fertilizer (or "organics") sprayed and plowed into the ground. So let's just say it smelled like putting your face into a cowpie. And the mud got into everything. Ugh.

My best and worst moment.

This was the final obstacle of the run, the "Fish Nets," or a cargo net that went 15 feet up into the air. Yes, it's at an angle, but if you don't like stepping onto a ladder from the roof, you wouldn't like this. That's me at the far left on the very top, and my friend Gianna is talking me through where to put my feet and hands to make it over. It was the only high obstacle of the run that I didn't chicken out on. Everything else that involved climbing I either went around or took the easiest option. I was shaky and scared, but proud as hell that I made it over.

"Do I have dirt under my fingernails? Wanna look?"

It took us about an hour and 20 minutes to run, crawl, climb and slide through this 5k. It was truly a ball, and I got to know a great bunch of ladies, most of whom I was meeting for the first time that morning.

It met my expectations of fun.

Bye Bye Big Kitchen

With one birthday behind us and one coming up, it is time for this family to purge our home of the toys and trappings of small children, to make way for the collection needed for a 7 and 9 year old.

And that means that it's finally time to say good-bye to Big Kitchen.

Big Kitchen first joined our family at Christmas in 2005. We shopped around, we considered which elements of a kitchen our then two-year-old would find most fun, and finally we put in our order to Santa Claus as to which one would be perfect for our family.

Santa didn't have time to have his elves put Big Kitchen together, so it came in a large, heavier-than-you'd-expect box, with more pieces than you ever thought imaginable.

It took us 3 hours to put Big Kitchen together on Christmas Eve. I should say, it took Wayne 3 hours, I helped with the little stuff, like taking the pots and pans out of their plastic bags and putting stickers in all the right places, while keeping us both supplied in wine to make it through the ordeal.

Sure enough, Big Kitchen became a big hit, first with the two-year-old, who we couldn't peel away from it long enough to open other gifts that morning, to the then 6-month-old who grew into it.


(Can I tell you how annoyed I am with Blogger that doesn't "get" vertical photos?)

The children grew and grew, but Big Kitchen was always a part of the fun. From playdates to birthday parties at our home, visitors gravitated to the kitchen. It became an integral part of our family restaurant nights, when the girls would make up a menu, pretend to prepare us food and "feed us" for an hour or more, all kinds of meal concoctions you would never encounter in real life. I've been known to pretend to gnaw on a drumstick, accompanied by a single banana, a half an onion and a small doughnut. All finished off with a bottle of beer. (Those bottles have always been pretend beer, not soda -- I don't know why.)

But soon Big Kitchen began to get ignored, and to become a place to set other toys that got played with more often. If we ever cleaned it off it was a favorite again for a little while, but eventually fell back into neglect.

Finally it was relegated to a place in our porch, where it was difficult to reach to play with it properly, and no one asked to have it pulled back out to play with it again.

That was our signal that it was time to retire Big Kitchen.

And so we began asking around if anyone needed a Big Kitchen for their growing family and we got a nibble. This family lives very close to us, and the little boy's older sister is a classmate of Lindsey's. We knew Big Kitchen would be well cared for and played with by this family.

And so one Saturday Big Kitchen got pulled out one last time and the girls helped me clean it up. We culled through drawers and drawers of toys searching for all the kitchen-related items and put them into a bag. And before we could traipse it over to the new family's house, the girls enjoyed one last session of restaurant.

As a family we walked the Big Kitchen to its new home down the street (yes, the girls walked there in pajamas, I don't really care). And we watched a small little boy who had to reach over his head to get to the microwave begin to play.

The family was kind enough to send a thank you note from them all, with an invitation to come visit Big Kitchen any time.

I suspect we'll be doing that.

School Year Rumination

My what changes a year can bring!

It was such a joy to watch Marissa come into her own this year. As a kindergartner last year her friends were Lindsey's friends, and she didn't have many friends her own age. But now that they've spent a year in different buildings, Marissa has lots of friends whose names we hear frequently, and who we are asked often for play dates and sleepovers. She is such a joyful little girl, quick to smile and to hug.

It's hard to believe she struggled so hard to read at the beginning of the year. She and I found some books in her room from nine short months ago and she tossed them aside with her baby books, stating that they were "too easy." And they are.

If asked she'll tell you her favorite subject is math. She has an unusual way of forming some of her letters and numbers, and I don't see a reason to correct her since they are perfectly legible. I like that she has found her own unique method of making the number "6."

She goes all the way across the monkey bars now, over and over apparently, as evidenced by the rows of calluses on her palms. She arrives home with knees and ankles black with sand and dirt, and her shoes contain the Sahara Desert. I take all those as signs of a fun day at school.

I have heard that in 3rd grade children transition from learning to read to reading to learn, and that couldn't be more true of Lindsey. She's always been a strong reader, so from the very beginning of the year she dove into learning. I love her curiosity and her fascination with the world. She'll tell you her favorite subjects are reading and writing first, followed by science, followed by math. She is amazed by science and the natural world, and would come home throughout the year and tell me excitedly about what they had discovered that day.

Lindsey's friendships are important to her -- an argument with a friend will shadow her entire day and be the first thing she tells me about when I pick her up. She's entering that age when girls tend to take sides with each other and switch best friends on an hourly basis. My only advice to her is to stay true to herself and just be the good friend that she naturally is -- friends who enjoy her company will remain by her side.

And oh dear, the boys. She has determined that a certain boy in her class must like her because he throws paper at her when the teacher's not looking, or if she goes to sharpen her pencil she'll find him watching her. He calls her a silly nickname that they all laugh at, and surely that must mean he likes her.

I guess she likes boys.

This post isn't really here to tell a story, but to capture a snapshot of the school year that was, and to let my girls know how very proud I am of them.

I'm a lucky mom.

Spring Nostalgia

There is something about this time of year that makes me sentimental. And I know what that something is: the end of the school year.

The last time my first grader sings in a school concert. The last time my 3rd grader participates in Field Day. The last time they'll have their current grade school teachers.

Granted, they'll do all those things again next year, but next year they'll be a 2nd grader and a 4th grader when they do them. And time marches on. It seems like only yesterday this was the picture at our house.

Lindsey's 1st day of Kindergarten, Marissa in preschool

This was the day before that.

And this was only two days before THAT day.

Lindsey was "soooo big!"

I remember preparing to leave the safety of the hospital a few days after Lindsey was born. I kept waiting for a nurse to come in to my room and stop us from leaving with that tiny baby. "I'm sorry," I would imagine her saying, "But it has come to our attention that you do not have the qualifications to care for this baby, so we're going to take care of her for you until you're ready."

And honestly, I would have met that statement with some relief. Thank goodness SOMEONE realized it and stopped me before a terrible mistake had been made!

But that nurse never came. They happily whisked us out the door with discharge papers and instructions in hand (on how to care for the umbilical cord site, not how to raise that baby), with wishes of "Good luck!" and smiles on their faces. And I couldn't believe I'd gotten away with it. I'd actually convinced someone else that I was qualified for that job!

And now, now I ask myself, how did I get to be a parent of TWO grade schoolers? Am I qualified for this? I can tell Lindsey is tipping on the edge of being a tween -- I'm pretty sure I'm not ready for that.

You would think by now I would come to the realization that I always think I am never prepared for the next stage, but the next stage comes anyways, and guess what: I'm as prepared as I'll ever be.

Time marches on, and so I will savor and enjoy these last few days as the school work trickles down to nothing and projects and papers and all kinds of interesting treasures are brought home.

And some day I'll look back and say, "Aww, remember how cute they were when they were grade schoolers?" And hopefully my kids will have this blog to realize how much their mom enjoyed these days of their childhood.

Welcome to Our Home

Please watch your step over the toys. And the dog who is blind and deaf and can't hear you to get out of your way.

No, please, keep your shoes on, you'll want them as protection against the toys littered across the floor.

Oops, no toilet paper, you say? Ummm, let me go into the basement to get some more for you. Our upstairs closets are filled with bath toys. I don't know how it happens, I swear we go through a roll a day.

Excuse the strange smell upstairs, we don't know what it is either and aren't brave enough to investigate.

I know, I'm sure we could have healthier house plants, we're just happy the few we have survive at all.

And watch for the dog poop in the backyard. I picked up what I could find before you came, but he's a magical dog, he finds special places to hide it. Those shoes will come in handy.

Oh, but we are full of love, and laughter, and I know you don't really come to my house to see how much dust I have on my mantle.  You will feel comfortable and at home here, and laugh so hard it hurts. You will feel truly welcome and have a fabulous time while you're here.

Just keep your shoes on.

Welcome to our home.

My Favorite Month

You all know how much I like my birthday, right? And my family, too, I like them a lot.

Which is why I especially love the month of May, because three of the four members of my immediate family have their birthdays this month. We tell Marissa that she's so special she gets her OWN birthday month in July and doesn't have to share hers, like the rest of us.

What better way to celebrate than to have Aunt Kristi come to visit?

Yes indeed. There IS no better way than that!

The celebration began when I picked Kristi up from the airport on Friday and we went to both girls' schools to pick them up. The girls both jumped into Kristi's arms so hard her sunglasses flew off from where they had been perched on the top of her head.

On Saturday morning Lindsey and Wayne went down to Lake Harriet early for Lindsey's Girls on the Run 5k, and later on the rest of us went down to cheer them on. Lindsey was sprinting at the end of the run, she had so much energy left! She had clearly done a good job of pacing herself, as they'd been learning through the 10-week program.

Lindsey got special shopping time with Aunt Kristi that afternoon, and then we had a delicious steak dinner at home in the evening. Then I got special time with Aunt Kristi and some of my friends as we went out to Howl at the Moon, the dueling piano bar in downtown Minneapolis. What a ball that was. We danced and sang along until they kicked us out. Well...not really, but they were closing so we had to go.

Sunday Marissa had her special shopping time with Aunt Kristi, and then all too soon it was time to drive her to the airport to fly back home. But wait! Not before Lindsey has a spa/pillow party for Kristi to say "thank you" and "good-bye."

We always have such a great time when Kristi comes to visit, and this was no different. Thanks, Kristi, for spending time with our family!

Growing Up With Technology

I wrote recently about how I am simply amazed at how quickly our girls are growing up. While one part is sentimental about it, another part of me is excited to see the people my children are becoming.

Lindsey recently got a new bit of freedom with the gift of an iPod Touch for her birthday. Wayne and I debated this purchase for several months. Is she ready? Is she mature enough to make good decisions on how she uses it? Is she responsible enough to care for it?

We ultimately decided that she was all of those things and bit the bullet, not to mention the fact that many of her friends had already received iPod Touches for THEIR 9th birthdays (yes, even parents succumb to peer pressure).

We got it several days before her birthday and spent time figuring out how to set it up. I was relieved to learn that we could set restrictions and limit which apps she can see and what she can do with it. For example, she doesn't have access to YouTube. There are too many inappropriate videos that she can access that I will only let her on the site with close parental supervision. She also doesn't have the ability to download new apps or make purchases within apps without approval.

We also discovered that in order to set up the device in many cases we needed an email address. While we could set her up with our email address, we didn't want to get her information mingled with ours, and there's something to be said for a little independence. After all, she is growing up in the digital age; I had to learn phone etiquette growing up, she has to learn email etiquette.

Lindsey recorded us singing "happy birthday" to her with her iTouch

We opened an account for her and gave her the information to log in. Her first emails were from myself and other family members who we'd given her email address to, wishing her a happy birthday. Because we monitor her account (we're basically blind copied on incoming emails, so don't email Lindsey about a surprise for her parents!) we can see some of her interactions with family members. She set up a time to FaceTime with her Wisconsin grandparents, and kept her word and called them on time.

And I don't know why, but it warmed my heart to see an email from her, my daughter, in my inbox.

I Am Always Amazed

It seems inexplicable to me that my children are as old as they are.  And nothing brings this to light like getting together with family who have little ones of their own.

It seems like it wasn't too long ago that this was our family photo out at the farm, with a toddler ooo'ing and aah'ing at everything, discovering the world for the first time.

What's even more amazing is that the dad in this picture is Travis, Wayne's nephew, who was our ring bearer in our wedding oh so many years ago.

He was six or seven at the time, about Marissa's age.

I remember when my kids were babies people would always say "cherish these moments, some day you'll realize how quickly they fly by." I always hated that -- yes, I know I should cherish them, but between diaper changing, nursing, constant laundry and intermittent sleep, it was always difficult to say that I would look back and say "wasn't that wonderful?" Even now, I have to say that I don't long for those days.

No one says that anymore now that I have school-aged kids. But now I can enjoy more, and actually cherish my children.

And so I will treasure the times when my kids ask to be picked up, or when they crawl into our bed at 2 a.m., thinking there's a worm in their bed. (True story, happened just last night.) I will appreciate the fact that when I'm walking down the street with a child by my side, there's a good possibility that a warm little hand will slip into mine, just for reassurance. And I will remember the sounds of Marissa or Lindsey playing on their own, creating their own worlds with trains, or babies, or Barbies or what have you, before that sound is swallowed by the sullen silence of teenagers listening to their music or texting their friends.

These are the days I will cherish. And I am always amazed at how quickly they are going by.

HomEc Revisited

Lindsey has a final paper for school that she's been working on for several weeks. It's a research paper on an ocean animal, with the added twist of a project to be presented along with the final paper.

Keep in mind the girl is in 3rd grade. I don't remember doing schoolwork like this in 3rd grade.

She's spent several weeks researching her animal. When we were on our way to Boston a few weeks ago I had to review her first draft, and she's had a few more drafts since then. And then she had to pick one of eight different ways to add on a project about this same animal. Her project could have been a diorama, a collage, a poster, but no, she picks...the pillow.

The pillow?

Yes, one of the choices is to make a pillow, either in the shape of your chosen animal or with a picture of the animal on it.

Oh, did I tell you what her animal is that she's doing her report on? The giant squid.

Or, as any adult with my upbringing will think, the giant penis.

I tried to steer her into a different direction, something involving paper. But she had her heart set on a sewing project, because she was pretty sure not many people were going to do one, and she wanted hers to be different.

Yeah well, when I have to sew it for her, it will definitely be different! Especially considering that I don't own a sewing machine.

On Sunday Lindsey and I went to Michael's to get supplies, and her idea of a pillow was something made out of felt. Oh, sewing with felt, I think I can do that.

So she cut out the squid shape, used fabric glue to put it on the pillow, and used self-stick felt letters to write the name of the animal on it. We'll attach yarn as the tentacles after the pillow is complete, but first I had a job to do: sew the damn thing up. 

After the kids went to bed one night I sat down with some TV, my sewing basket (yes I own one, thanks, mom) and the pillow case.

I had no idea that it was possible to sew pre-cut pieces of felt in such a way that you could make the edges NOT line up. Apparently it's possible. But when you turn the pillow case inside out, you can't tell. Now it'll be interesting to see how it looks once we stuff it.

It's a squid,dammit.

It's Called "Health" Insurance, Right?

As those of you who follow my blog probably know, my dad has had two battles with colon cancer, the first in 2007 and the most recent in 2011.

He is a wonderful soul, a great story-teller and an easy-going, great guy who has been through hell. From diagnosis in January 2011 to a final surgery in October, he spent most of last year battling this disease. He is now cancer-free but is taking a low-dose maintenance chemo pill right now, since this particular type of cancer has recurred once already for him.

My dad and I, April 2012.

I have had friends and family members who have had cancer of the lung, breast, bone marrow and blood, ovary, thyroid, skin, cervix and others. You name the body part, there's a cancer that can grow on it. I do not mean to minimize the hell that all cancer is, but I cannot imagine a cancer more difficult to treat and manage than colon cancer because of the loss of dignity that goes along with it. I won't get more detailed than that, except to say that if you want to know more about the challenges that go along with colon cancer, you should check out my dad's blog on the subject. He is incredibly open and detailed in sharing his experience in order to help others who may be going through it themselves. There's a lot about this particular recovery that doctors don't tell you about.

Thus I am motivated to get screened for colon cancer, even though I'm not yet at the recommended age of 50. My doctor recommended it based on my dad's history and wrote a pre-approval request to Blue Cross Blue Shield, my insurance company, that I get screened.

It was denied because I'm not yet 50, despite my family history.

Hmmm...that's odd, this same insurance company covered the same procedure for my husband when he was under 50, based on his sister's early diagnosis of colon cancer. Hers was found during a routine colonoscopy and did not need any additional treatment beyond the removal of the polyp during the screening. The biopsy of the polyp indicated that it had been cancerous, and her doctor told her she was lucky that she had gotten a colonoscopy when she did, because her doctor misread her chart and thought that she had already reached her 50th birthday. If he'd realized she was still a few years shy, he wouldn't have recommended the procedure.

They covered my husband's screening but denied mine. Odd. So I called. Twice.

The first time the "customer advocate" informed me that it was her understanding that this health screening was covered when there was a family history, and that the pre-approval had been declined because of the manner in which my healthcare provider submitted the paperwork. (Apparently there's a difference between a "routine" and a "medical" colonscopy.) She said she would call my doctor's office, have them re-submit the paperwork and that I should get approved. Great.

Two weeks later I still hadn't heard anything, so I called BCBS again to confirm that it was now approved, only to find that it has been officially and formally declined.

That's because my insurance policy does NOT cover screening colonoscopies under age 50, regardless of family history. Basically, the only way BCBS would cover a colonoscopy is if my doctor indicated that I had some symptoms that would require one; in other words, if my doctor committed fraud. Not that BCBS recommended she do that, but simply said that colonoscopies are only covered if symptoms are present. I have no symptoms, and from what I understand of the disease, by the time symptoms appear it often means cancer is present. That's why people get screened.

While I wasn't looking forward to the procedure, I was looking forward to the peace of mind of having a clean bill of health, and I'm frustrated and annoyed by this decision. We recently drained our health savings account due to appointments for other family members so we have no money set aside for this procedure, which we discovered costs around $2,500.

Our family is fortunate in that we have health insurance and we have the ability to save money on a monthly basis to cover our health expenses not covered by our high-deductible plan. Eventually I'll be able to get screened, and we'll pay for it out of our own pocket. But for low-income familes or anyone without health insurance, I have to believe that this is a screening that they would simply not get if insurance didn't pay for it.

Obviously BCBS understands that they are gambling that the majority of colonscopies performed on people under age 50, regardless of family history of colon cancer, will be negative. But if they are wrong, it doesn't seem fair that their customers get to pay the price with their health.

Did You Say Nine?

We were late getting Lindsey's birthday party invitations out, between a trip to Arkansas and then Boston. Most people received the invitation with only one week's notice. Yet only one child wasn't able to make it. How is that possible? So here we were again, two years after we said "We'll never have THAT many kids again," at a party with 13 children.

Eight of the 13 guests.

At least this time they were older and the activities more contained.

Lindsey's birthday party was at Grand Slam this year, a batting cage/mini-golf/laser tag/bumper car/game arcade kind of place. It was an interesting place to have a party, because once everyone arrived the kids all split up into different areas and went to their favorite activities. It was fun to see how the kids all interacted with each other, with one group of four going in one direction, then meeting up with a different group and splitting into different groups of kids depending on what everyone wanted to do.

Marissa was allowed to bring a friend so she had someone her age to do things with. They rode on the bumper cars, got out and then got right back in line for the bumper cars again. I think they rode in those cars about 7 times. At one point enough other kids from the party joined them so that all nine bumper cars were from our party and they all knew each other. It was hilarious to watch as they would maneuver their cars into each other, or drive in reverse, waiting to run into someone without knowing who it was, but knowing that at least they would KNOW them.

The highlight for Lindsey had to be the laser tag; she and various groups of friends played it at least 4 times, and it takes at least 15 minutes to play one game of laser tag each time.

In the meantime, Wayne and I would walk the area, checking for stray kids who didn't have anyone to do something with, or who needed help with arcade games, etc. We ate a late lunch (or early dinner, depending on your point of view) of pizza and cake.

I don't know why, but it was completely exhausting. Three hours in this noisy, energetic place with hundreds of kids and adults milling around, trying to keep track of 13 little girls (and then making sure all 13 were picked up at the end of the party) was completely and utterly exhausting. I don't know what well that energy comes from, because it's not physical energy; it's parenting energy, or something. It gets empty very quickly when there are 13 kids pulling from it all the time.

And so we went home, and Lindsey opened her gifts with just the four of us there to appreciate them, with Wayne taking notes for the thank you notes that would be written later. We had a dinner of popcorn and will shortly go to bed, all of us.

Lindsey showcases a gift while Dax licks his lips from eating leftover popcorn.

What a great time.

Earlier in the week, when I went to the bakery to order her cake, they asked me what I wanted written on it. I said, "Happy...wait, 9? 9th birthday? Oh my God, I can't believe she's nine." Where are these years going to?

I'm logging off now, gotta go hug my kids again, before they don't want my hugs anymore.