Progressive Wednesday

Monday Morning Motherhood: Viewers Like You

About two months ago I broke down and did something I swore I wouldn't – “ I had (gasp) cable TV installed in our home. Until this time, we had the rabbit-ears antennae that provided us with about 6 stations, including our favorite, PBS. I love the documentaries, Grace loves the kids shows. Cable, however, provided us with another PBS station we hadn't encountered before– “ ThinkBright, channel 21. All I can say is, wow. I love this channel.

Recently we had what is called in our home, “pajama day– . It's as obvious as it sound – “ we stay in our pajamas all day and lounge around the house. We read books, watch some movies, talk and play. I was in the middle of a new book, when I started to watch a particularly entertaining show with her, “Between the Lions– . The premise of the show? A family of lions who show the joy and adventure that comes along with reading. A TV show about reading. I grew up with Reading Rainbow (which is, by the way, still on the air), but this show is even more imaginative, creative and inspired. Each episode includes one or more short stories or books (some real books, some made up), and has a featured letter our sound. This sound is repeated throughout the show, used in different words which are generally shown on the screen with the particular letter/sound of the episode is highlighted. On the screen, letter are taken away and added, showing how different words can be formed and thus changed.

The family of lions includes Cleo and Theo, the parents of Lionel and Leona. They are joined by a most inventive cast of characters: Martha Reader and the Vowelles, is a Motown-inspired group that sing only in, you guessed it, vowels. One of my favorites is a recurring guest star – “ Dr. Ruth Westheimer. Yup, THE Dr. Ruth. She plays Dr. Ruth Wordheimer, the Word Doctor. If there's a particularly difficult word to read or understand, she's your gal. Larry King also has a recurring role, as himself. Last time we saw him, he was interviewing Larry the Lion, wanting to know the Who, What, Where, When, Why and How. Some other recurring segments include Gawain's World (a spoof of Wayne's World), Fun with Chicken Jane (a parody of the old Dick and Jane books we all grew up with), Sam Spud, The Lone Rearranger Rewrites Again, Moby Duck, and Tiger Words. Each show also has a “designated reader– . Past readers have included Jon Stewart, Idia.Arie, Sigourney Weaver, Vanessa Williams, Melissa Etheridge, Brian McKnight, and astronaut Ellen Ochoa.

I'm not a huge fan of Grace watching TV, there are too many mindless programs out there that have no educational value whatsoever. I'd much rather we read books together, work on our letters and words, color, or play a game. This is one show though, that I definitely don't mind her watching. Immediately after it was over, she went and pulled a “Ready to Read– book off the shelf and spent 45 minutes sounding out the small words, trying to read by herself. This program doesn't just advocate literacy and reading, it actually get children interested in it and encourages them to try. Anything that gets children excited about and interested in reading gets two big – ˜ol thumbs up from me.

Monday Morning Motherhood: Non-Discriminatory

212,920 total. 40,970 dead.

Violent crime statistics? Nope. The numbers above represent something much scarier to some of us. They are, respectively, the number of estimated new cases of breast cancer cases in women in 2006, and the estimated number of women who die each year from the disease. And it doesn’t just afflict women: 1,720 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.

I bring all this up because last week I received some very disturbing news: my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer and later this week she will undergo a mastectomy. Since I refuse to reveal another woman's age, we'll just say that she's young. Too young. She's also one of the toughest women you will ever meet. She and her husband had five children in nine years, and raised them to be tough and loving, smart and a little cocky, and they taught their kids to stick by each other. Her oldest son announced his engagement about three weeks ago. Her youngest two are still in high school. My aunt is tall, beautiful, elegant and strong. But cancer, of course, doesn't discriminate, as my whole family knows all too well. My Great Aunt Dean died many years ago from cancer. My father has been battling several different forms of cancer since I was thirteen. When I was pregnant, my great aunt Joanne died from breast cancer that had metastasized into bone cancer. All good people, none of whom deserve the pain and suffering that cancer brings. But then, no one does.

While there’s no cure-all for cancer, there is good news to be had. In 2006, Gardasil, the first-ever vaccine for cervical cancer, was released. And a few years back, my sister worked for the NIH, doing research on a vaccine for pancreatic cancer. Specific risk factors for different types of cancer have been identified, and there are even tests that can tell you what your chances of developing breast cancer are. One of the most important things about cancer is to find it early, treat it early. According to The Breast Cancer Site: “If detected early, the five-year survival rate for breast cancer exceeds 95%.–

So how can we be proactive and progressive when it comes to breast cancer? Maybe these four steps that follow can help with that:

1. Get screened: Getting a mammogram reduces the mortality of breast cancer by 20-30%. The earlier you are diagnosed, the earlier you can treat cancer. The NCI and Department of Health and Human Services recommend that women over 40 years old get a mammogram every 1-2 years.
2. Screen yourself: At Komen.org you can download a breast self-exam card which is offered in over 8 different languages. They recommend that women over age 20 do a monthly self breast exam. Once again, early detection is the key to fighting cancer.
3. Talk to your doctor: Even if you are perfectly healthy, talk to your physician. Let her/him know of any family history of cancer, especially breast or cervical cancers. If you have found a lump in your breast through one of the above screening methods, or if you are currently going through treatment, communication is important. Staying involved in your treatment is important: know what is happening, know your options, stay informed, get healthy.
4. Tell a friend: This is a Progressive Wednesday staple. Tell a friend what screening methods you use, or if you don't feel comfortable with that (we understand), click here to send a Breast Cancer Awareness Month greeting card. Also, you can click here to help fund free mammograms. If you know someone who is battling breast cancer, or any cancer, please let them know they have your support. Trust me when I tell you, they'll need it.

While not a solution, these tips can help with early detection and help those currently waging a battle against cancer. That, my friends, can help at least put a dent in this awful disease.

Monday Morning Motherhood: Rockin’ & Learnin’

In this column, I have often exhorted the pleasures and benefits of being a parent. One that particularly enthralls me is getting to relive certain things from my childhood that I enjoyed. My daughter has many of the same toys I did when I was her age — the 1980's, my friends, are back. Strawberry Shortcake, Cabbage Patch Kids, Fraggle Rock (there's a new Fraggle slotted for 2009), the Gloworm, and many others have reappeared, and our children are now enjoying the same toys and characters we did.

I find it pretty cool, if only for the fact that it gives my daughter options for toys other than a doll that looks like a dominatrix or stripper. Well, that and the fact that I don't have to learn the names of the other 8 bazillion toys out there. This is much simpler.

This weekend, since I'm still a bit under the weather, I decided to get a few movies and have some stay-at-home time with Grace. While searching for something that looked interesting, I discovered something that brought back a flood of memories and practically made me giddy: Schoolhouse Rock, the 30th Anniversary Edition DVD! When I saw this, I actually jumped up and down in the store, whooping. (I'm not sure I'm allowed in there again– ¦.) I grew up on Schoolhouse Rock and memorized the songs: I’m still able to sing them at 20-something years old. The songs are not only catchy and enjoyable, but they always impart a lesson of some kind, teaching children and allowing them to have fun while doing so. “Conjunction Junction, What's Your Function?– is one of my all-time favorites: “Conjunction Junction, what’s your function? Hooking up words and phrases and clauses.”

I bought the DVD, hoping that Grace might enjoy it as much as I had (and, okay, because I really, really wanted to hear the song “I'm Just a Bill– again). What I didn't expect was how relevant the songs still are, even after 30 years. They're grouped into categories — America Rock, Grammar Rock, Science Rock, Multiplication Rock, and Money Rock. One song in particular grabbed my attention: “Energy Blues.” Here at Progressive Wednesday, we're outspoken proponents of energy conversation and finding alternative sources of energy. If you'll allow, I'd like to show you some of the lyrics to make a larger point:

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Monday Morning Motherhood: Handle w/ Care

The first draft of this week’s column was written in the surgical waiting room of Women’s and Children’s Hospital of Buffalo, and not because it has good lighting, which, you know, it does.

As I wrote, my little girl was in the operating room, having a tonsillectomy, an adenoidectomy, and an OtoLam procedure. I don’t think I’d been this scared before, ever. My baby, my little 4-year-old, was under anesthesia and someone was going to cut her with a knife and a laser. Even though this particular doctor had literally performed this surgery over ten thousand times, I was still a nervous wreck. She performed those surgeries on other people’s kids, not mine.

I had assumed this surgery would take place in a few months, not less than a week after my own surgery, the second in less than two months. Not the day after her first appointment with the ENT doctor. I was supposed to have at least a few weeks to freak out about my child having surgery, not a few hours. After examining Grace, the doctor put it this way: “Her tonsils are taking up around 80% of her throat, her ears have fluid that needs to be drained and her adenoids are enormous. I have an opening for tomorrow and would like to do the surgery then.– With that, all my hopes of waiting were thrown to the curb. Several surgical procedures to be done on my daughter at one time — tomorrow at 9am.

It’s a strange feeling to be more scared than your child about their surgery. I explained everything to her — what would happen, how she would be asleep, what the doctor would do, and how she would would have a sore throat for a week or two afterwards. She wasn’t the least bit scared, unfazed by everything I said. Even the next morning at the hospital, after changing into her hospital gown and pants (kids apparently get pants, while adults have to walk around holding our gowns closed and risk flashing everyone), she seemed fine. We played in the play room for a bit, then a nurse called us down to the pre-surgery room. The doctor performing the surgery came and spoke with us, as did the nurse who would be in the room, and the anesthesiologist. About 20 minutes later, the nurse came and took Grace’s hand. They walked past the double doors and down to the OR. I sat and watched my baby walk down the hall, praying everything would be okay.

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Monday Morning Motherhood: Surrounded by Words

The extra room in my apartment is filled with box upon box of books I haven’t unpacked yet, simply because I have no place to put them. My daughter’s toy box contains a mix of dolls, toys, and books. They’re piled on top of the book case, on the floor, and next to my bed. My dresser, bedside table, and their respective drawers are all filled with books. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry — all genres are welcome and included.

My love of reading, and the written word in general, began when I was young. First grade, to be exact. I spent much of the school year at home, sick. I missed 40 days of school due to illness, then was forced to take half-days when I returned. Because of the numerous doctors appointments I had, we developed a routine, my mother and I. We would go to the pediatrician, then to The Book Corner in Niagara Falls, where I was allowed to pick out 2-3 books I wanted. I would invariable have begun reading one of them in car by the time we arrived home. I still remember the way I felt every time we entered The Book Corner. My mind would race and begin to fill with ideas of what I wanted to read, what I would choose. The whole store seemed filled with wonder, with possibilities.

Luckily, whether by nature or nurture, my daughter has inherited my love of books. Everyday she is excited to tell me what book they read at school, and not a night goes by without the request for a story — or six. Her current favorites include: Goodnight Gorilla by Peggy Rathmann, There’s a Monster at the End of This Book by Jon Stone, and Curious George by H.A. Rey. And thanks to birthday, Christmas, Easter and “just because– presents from her grandparents and great-grandparents, her collection of books is rapidly approaching the size of mine. The time we spend together, cuddling and reading her books is magical; I’ll almost be sorry when she can read them herself. I’ll miss the way her eyes light up when we’re reading, and she starts the next line before we turn the page, and the giggling that ensues when we read something silly.

I can’t imagine my life or home without books. Yet, all over this beautiful world, our nation included, there are homes where books are in short supply or simply non-existent. I will never forget the look on my daughter’s face when she first learned this — it happened when we were in Wegmans this past weekend, doing our grocery shopping.

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Monday Morning Motherhood: Missing Being Mommy

Man, oh, man, I love it when my words come back to kick me in the rear. No, really. It’s quite a pleasant sensation. Okay, so that may have been a bit of sarcasm. I don’t actually enjoy having anything kick me in the rear. Perhaps this will teach me a lesson. Those articles that had me wishing for “me time– ? The ones that said I wanted a break sometimes from being a mom? Ha. Guess what. I got my break. And it sucks.

We are now closing in on day 11 of me, sans child. About two weeks ago, I was admitted to the hospital (oh yes, again). This time my sisters, all of whom live in the District of Columbia, stepped up to the plate and took care of Grace. Liz flew up, and flew back down with my kid in tote, and Grace has since been at my sister Sarah’s home. Sarah lives with her husband, Ben, and their two children, Harry and Rhys. Grace has been having a ball, loving almost every minute of her stay there. They got her her own bed, she had her favorite books with her, and she has spent 11 days running around causing child-sized havoc with her cousins. All of her aunts have been by to see her several times, and almost every time I talk to her she’s in the middle of giggling. Does the occasional meltdown occur? Yes, of course, she’s only four. Once or twice, I received a phone call from a small child in tears, asking to come home.

I’ve been out of the hospital for almost five days now, but my sisters and I agreed, and following my doctor’s advice, that Grace stay in D.C. until I’d recovered a bit more, until I was literally back on my feet. Five days of time to lounge in bed, eat chocolate (mostly Ben & Jerry’s), read books (sappy romance novels), watch movies (“chick flicks– ), and nap at will. After more than four days of every harried mother’s dream, I want to give it back. No more, thanks. I’ve had sufficient. The first day or two was okay, even nice, I’ll admit. But after that, all I wanted was to be a mom again. Not just in name, but in practice.

In my very first Monday Morning Motherhood column, I mention that when we become parents “we gain a child and a whole new identity.– I don’t think I realized myself, until these past few weeks, how true that is. I’m not quite sure what I did with my time before I had my daughter. Whatever it was, it seems ridiculous and inane now. I’m a mom. More specifically, I am Grace’s mom, and right now, that’s all I want to be. I miss her more than I thought humanly possible. She comes home tomorrow, and this “other me,– the “non-mom me,– is gonna lose it quite soon if I read any more Danielle Steel books. Though the plethora of John Cusack movies next to my DVD player is damn good. Those, I’ll keep.

Monday Morning Motherhood: Judging Mommy

Confession time. I am slightly embarrassed about it, but this edition of Monday Morning Motherhood was inspired by an article about Britney Spears. Oh yes, the Britney Spears. Dancing on a pole and partying all night with Paris Hilton, amongst other infractions, have raised the hackles of those across the nation (okay, those who incessantly read the celebrity gossip columns… like myself) and have some out there judging her abilities as a mother. Now, bear in mind, I’m not siding with anyone here, except, well, myself. I get to do that, because I write the column, and that’s how it goes.

You know the mom in the supermarket with the kid screaming and screaming for “RACHAEL RAY CRACKERS!?” (Well, maybe that’s just my kid.) You see her, see the kid, and think to yourself, “She really needs to learn how to control her child.” Or what about the mom who stops at McDonald’s on the way home after 13 exhausting hours of work, soccer practice and ballet class� She should be making a healthy, homemade dinner. We judge moms, and we expect them to be perfect.

According to an article on MSNBC:

“Judging mothers — and watching us turn up short — has always been a popular American pastime,” says Janet Penley, [a parenting coach, mother of two adult children and author of Motherstyles: Using Personality Type to Discover Your Parenting Strengths]. “As a society, we seem to want to say there are two kinds of moms — a good mom or a bad mom. That’s been damaging for women and it’s just wrong.”

“We as a culture are way too hard on moms,” says Lisa Loop, a freelance copywriter and Seattle mother of two young daughters. “Just because a mom has a night out — even if she’s totally out of control — it doesn’t mean she can’t rein it in later when she’s with the kids.”

This is what brings me back to Ms. Spears. I’m not an advocate of partying every night, nor do I approve of some of her recent behavior documented by indecent pictures that circulated the Internet at lightning-fast speed. However, and this is a big however, I’m not saying we should write her off immediately as a bad mother. A few weeks ago, at the prompting of my boyfriend, I went out with my girlfriends. We had a rowdy, bawdy girls’ night out, and had a blast. My daughter was well cared for, asleep before I even left, and I was awake the next morning to take care of her. Unless she snuck out of the house, stealthily followed me, and watched my evening, I doubt there are any psychological scars that will occur because I had a night out. Also, I probably would have noticed had she followed me. She’s still jumps out and yells “Here I am!” while playing hide-and-seek, and I don’t think her piggy bank had enough money for a taxi.

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