tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24006517921803664602024-03-19T01:37:37.533-07:00Love, Light, Laughter and Chocolate - One Mom's JourneyKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.comBlogger229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-52420239038487238792019-11-20T16:20:00.001-08:002019-11-20T17:10:13.556-08:00Craptastic! The low down on what to expect for your colonoscopy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/nDBo-jAKZpdfGrv8d7PqwZrR1tI0kFv9hv1eOl4Vgjo1npRYqOdyc-eoe2ocIBn_CYPXSHlFjmx9aOYEFwHJi4UfOOMKHiXYkKmckewYlGa6-1ypUl-8Md_st7yvD14u2EWwWHn0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/nDBo-jAKZpdfGrv8d7PqwZrR1tI0kFv9hv1eOl4Vgjo1npRYqOdyc-eoe2ocIBn_CYPXSHlFjmx9aOYEFwHJi4UfOOMKHiXYkKmckewYlGa6-1ypUl-8Md_st7yvD14u2EWwWHn0" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This September I turned 50. There are many wonderful things about hitting the big Five-O, but the “welcome to 50” colonoscopy is not one of them. As I am the kind of person who needs lots of information about things, I took to Google to search for other people’s experiences with the prep and the procedure. I wanted to know what to expect and how to make the best of the “prep” everyone says is horrible.<br />
<br />
There was precious little information out there, and a dearth of detailed information. The lack of information on what to expect each step along the way is largely why people are so nervous and fearful about the procedure. So, in my traditional way of doing things, I will write the information I wished I was able to find prior to my colonoscopy adventure. <br />
<br />
<b>The initial consult</b><br />
<br />
The journey begins with a consult with a gastrointestinal doctor, who my primary doctor referred me to. They actually called me with an appointment day and time, which I had to change. This is typically a quick face to face appointment where your vital signs are taken, questions about your medical history, medications, and bowel habits are asked, and a brief discussion takes place about what to expect for the procedure and what bowel prep regimen you will use. You are then scheduled for the colonoscopy at a future date, and given your instructions for the bowel prep, in a handout. Be sure to ask questions at this visit, in as much detail as you need, because you won’t really get another chance until the day of your procedure.<br />
<br />
<b>Anesthesia or no anesthesia?</b><br />
<br />
You are given an arrival time around 1 hour before your actual procedure so they can get you ready.<br />
The procedure itself is typically done in an outpatient endoscopy clinic setting or the endoscopy unit of a hospital. My doctor was in a freestanding clinic. The lobby was designed to look like a tropical Zen garden, which was interesting and soothing.<br />
<br />
Most people elect anesthesia, which really means you are sedated for the procedure with an anti-anxiety drug that makes you feel a little loopy and groggy and that relaxes you and another that essentially gives you amnesia, so you don’t remember anything. Yet you are awake and able to converse with the doctors the entire time, you just won’t remember it. You are not really “asleep” or “knocked out”, although I’m sure some people probably do doze off if the meds are strong enough for them to do so. With this option, you have an IV, Oxygen in your nose, a little gadget on your finger to measure your oxygen levels, an EKG, and a blood pressure cuff, and you are given all drugs to sedate you prior to the start of the procedure in your IV.<br />
<br />
After the colonoscopy, which takes 20-30 min or so, you have to stay an hour or so to recover. Then you cannot drive or work for the rest of the day, so someone has to pick you up and take you home.<br />
<br />
I opted out of the anesthesia. She seemed surprised, but also said more and more people, especially women, are opting to undergo the procedure without any sedation. Everything I could find on the internet (which wasn’t much) and talking to others who had no anesthesia, led me to believe it’s not painful. Uncomfortable at times, maybe, but I had all my kids without pain medication and know I react horribly to any kind of anesthesia and am super sensitive to drugs of any kind, so a few minutes of discomfort was far better for me than being down for a day or two to recover from the drugs.<br />
<br />
I loved my GI doctor. She was easygoing, funny, and had a great bedside manner. She did her procedures on Tuesdays, so I had no choice of day, but I could choose the time. Choose carefully, as your last prep is usually about 4 hours prior to your arrival time to the appointment and you’ll spend most of those 4 hours on the toilet. If you are doing a single prep, it may be 6-8 hours prior. If you don’t want to lose much sleep, choose a later time of day. I chose 10:15, not realizing that was the arrival time. When I later received an appointment confirmation I learned my procedure was actually at 11:15.<br />
<br />
My plan was to work from home in the morning prior to my colonoscopy, and then either work from home or go to the office afterwards, depending on how I felt.<br />
<br />
<b>The “prep”</b><br />
<br />
Preparation for your colonoscopy will probably begin with a somewhat restricted diet for a few days prior. Even if it doesn’t, it’s a good idea to avoid difficult to digest foods like nuts, seeds, whole grains, fruits, veggies, and leafy greens. I had to avoid them for 3-4 days prior. Stick to soft, easy to digest foods and don’t eat a ton. Everything you put in for those several days prior will come forcefully out on prep day, remember that.<br />
<br />
The day before you are usually allowed a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, crackers, or mashed potato (no skin) in a small amount, after which you are only allowed clear liquids until after the colonoscopy. I actually forgot to eat breakfast, but I’m glad I did. I think fasting from solid food for 36 hours probably helped a lot.<br />
<br />
<i>Pro-tip on clear liquids and hydration before and during your prep:</i><br />
<br />
Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate! You are allowed only clear liquids. Think anything you can see through including jello, Popsicles, juice, tea and coffee, etc. You cannot have milk or cream in your tea/coffee, however. You can also have sugary drinks, so unless you are diabetic, I recommend drinking lots of water, but also drinks that have calories and electrolytes in them like a sports drink. Avoid red and purple colored beverages, though. You will lose tons of fluid, so start hydrating days before, and drink as much as you can the day before and the morning of your procedure all the way until you are told to stop liquids by your doctor. <br />
<br />
So, the real “prep” is anything but pleasant. It is a mega dose of laxatives usually provided in a packet that you mix with water in a specific ratio and must drink in a certain time frame, usually 30-60 minutes. It’s either in one dose, or two doses separated by a number of hours, depending on which type of prep your doctor prescribes for you. The timing relative to the time of your procedure will depend on the type of prep the doctor recommends for you and what time your colonsocopy is scheduled for. <br />
<br />
My doctor prescribed Plenvu, which is a 2 dose prep. It’s relatively new. It was about $60 at CVS. It requires you to drink a lot less of the icky tasting mixture than most other preps, but its concentrated. None of them taste good and none of them are pleasant from what I’ve gathered.<br />
<br />
<b>Dose 1:</b><br />
<br />
Starting around 5 pm the night before, I was to mix Pouch A with 16 oz of water in the provided container, shake it up, and drink it in 30 minutes. It was supposedly mango flavored. It was essentially a mega dose of salt water. It tasted disgusting. I sipped it. After about 45 min I had only managed to drink half of it. It made me queasy, gave me shivers, and I felt a little spacey in the head. I took to the internet and started to read the reviews of this particular prep. I quickly learned that was very common. Some people reported vomiting, but feeling queasy, cold and shaky, and generally crappy (pun intended) seemed to be the norm. NONE of this was discussed in my visit with the doctor.<br />
<br />
<i>Pro-Tips for getting the drink(s) from hell down: </i><br />
<ul>
<li>Make it as cold as possible. I added ice and it helped a lot.</li>
<li>Use a straw, it avoids getting the full on disgusting taste in your mouth</li>
<li>Sip it slowly, don’t chug it. It seems the faster you drink it the more likely you are to throw it up or feel queasy</li>
<li>Chase each sip with a tasty clear liquid. It helps with hydration and kills the salty aftertaste. Something sweet helps.</li>
<li>Stir it frequently. The powder will settle out of the water a bit which makes the last few ounces super concentrated if you don’t keep stirring it before each sip.</li>
<li>Most everything I could find on the internet written by medical professionals said if you feel nauseous or vomit to take a break from the drink for 20-30 min, and then sip it slowly. Taking longer to drink it is preferred to not drinking all of it.</li>
<li>If you feel queasy, or think you will (chances are high you will!), have some peppermint or ginger handy (teas, candies, aromatherapy oil), an anti-nausea medication, either a homeopathic, an over the counter one, or a prescription one - ask your doctor. You could also try lemon or lime flavors or even suck on a lemon or lime wedge between sips (pretend it’s Tequila?)</li>
</ul>
<br />
After about 60 minutes, my normally very low blood pressure was 140/93 (I run 100/60), I had a headache and felt lousy. If you have high blood pressure, talk to your doctor about preps that have super high levels of salt (most do) and if you should adjust your medications. My BP was likely higher than normal because of all the salt. I still had about 2 ounces of the salty solution left to drink after 90 minutes but I just couldn’t do it. I never finished it.<br />
<br />
About 30 min into drinking, I had my first trip to the bathroom. Over the next 4 hours, I made several quick trips to the bathroom, and passed mostly brown liquid. I had no cramping, but very little “warning”, so stay close to the bathroom!<br />
<br />
<i>Pro tip for comfort: </i><br />
<br />
Purchase a diaper cream and flushable wipes prior to starting your prep. Use the diaper cream often to protect your skin. Having hours and hours of frequent, liquid stools is very irritating to your skin. Toilet paper can be uncomfortable, too. The cream will protect your bum from the discomfort of the irritated skin. Your derriere will appreciate it. We have a bidet and it was a godsend. Others have reported sitting in a warm bath or taking a warm shower helps, too, but depending on how frequently you are needing to have bowel movements, how quickly they sneak up on you, and how liquid they are, you might not make it to the toilet from the bath.<br />
<br />
After about 4 hours, things settled down and I was able to have a good nearly 6 hours of sleep. <br />
<br />
<b>Dose 2:</b><br />
<br />
My alarm was set for 5 am, but I woke up on my own around 4. I had to pee and had another liquid stool. I made myself some tea, mixed my second “prep” drink, this time two envelopes of powder mix into the 16 oz container with water, and brought that with my laptop to the bathroom. Everything I read said once the second drink starts to work, you spend the next few hours in the bathroom, so I figured I might as well be productive. Guess where I wrote this blog post. :-)<br />
<br />
I started drinking it a little before 5 am, alternating with my tea. I put lots of sugar in my tea! I found the second drink to be marginally more palatable as it was a sweet berry flavor. It didn’t taste quite as salty to me as the first one. It took me about an hour to drink ¾ of it, all of my tea, and a bottle of Bai coconut water, and during that time I had about 6 trips to the toilet, about every 10 minutes. They were quick, painless, and essentially liquid in nature. The cat kept me company while I camped out in the bathroom. <br />
<br />
Also about an hour into the second round, I started to feel a bit queasy, lightheaded, and shaky. Not as bad as the first time, but not pleasant. My heart rate was actually low, probably because of the dehydration. I normally have a resting HR of around 56 (I’m a runner) but it was in the 40’s. This happened with the first round and only lasted a few hours. It took me about 90 minutes to completely finish drinking the prep. <br />
<br />
The bowel movements by the time you are well into the second round of prep become essentially all liquid and frequent, about every 5-10 minutes for me. For a while I literally just sat on the toilet while it poured/dripped out of me essentially non-stop for maybe 20-30 min. It feels like you are peeing out your butt. There is literally little to no warning, so if you are not planning to sit on or very near the toilet for a few hours, you might want to wear an adult incontinence brief or a sanitary pad to avoid “accidents”. It just runs out of you with no effort. When your bowel movements are all liquid, yellow, and fairly clear, your prep has been successful. You are “clean”.<br />
<br />
You still need to finish drinking all the prep drink though, to be sure your entire colon is cleaned out. I literally easily lost the equivalent of all the fluids I took in within an hour or two of drinking them, and then some. I also got a low grade headache and dizzy when I stood up because of the fluid loss and dehydration. It was about that same time I ended up sitting on the toilet for a good 20-30 min because I was running like a faucet. It was at this time I was most grateful for the heated toilet seat but really wished it was padded!<br />
<br />
I should point out that at no time did I have any discomfort or diarrhea cramps. The discomfort was all in trying to stomach the prep drink and dealing with the side effects of it and the dehydration. I drank a TON, and still ended up dehydrated. The saltiness of the prep does help make you want to drink though, so that helps with the hydration. <br />
<br />
About 3 hours after I started drinking the second prep, the bowel movements let up significantly and I was able to shower, get dressed, have one last cup of tea and a glass of water, before 8 am when I was not allowed to have any more liquids, and get a little work done. I had two more small, pure liquid (watery) BM’s before I left my house at 10 am. By then, I was wicked thirsty and getting hungry again.<br />
<br />
Overall, despite the horrible taste and how I felt after the first dose, the second dose was less offensive in every way, and I would probably opt to use this prep again in the future. That said, if we can send people into space, why the hell can’t they make a prep that is entirely in pill form or that tastes GOOD and doesn’t make you feel like you are going to puke?<br />
<br />
<b>The Actual Colonoscopy</b><br />
<br />
I left my house at 10, having had nothing to drink since 8 am per instructions. I reminded my husband to keep his phone with him and on vibrate in case he needed to come get me unexpectedly, but since I was opting for no anesthesia, I was allowed to drive myself there and home. I was so thirsty and getting even more hungry.<br />
<br />
Why arrive so early? Well, they have to check you in, have you sign papers, make copies of your insurance cards, give you your ID bracelet and then you wait. Everyone in the waiting area was discussing how terrible the prep tastes. It was a pretty jolly group, actually.<br />
<br />
About 45 min before my scheduled time I was brought into a large room with curtained “bays” with a stretcher in each bay. Everyone having procedures was brought into this room. There I met an aide who had me put my clothes in a bag, change into the fashionable hospital johnny and she gave me slipper sox to keep my feet warmer. She also gave me a warm blanket. My belongings were put under the stretcher and were with me the entire time. Then the nurse asked a bunch of questions like when I last ate, what I ate, what kind of prep I did, when did I last drink, what I drank, if I had any medications, allergies, etc. She took my vital signs and started an IV. This is absolutely necessary if you are having anesthesia, because they inject the sedative and amnesia drug via the IV, but they also require it for those not having anesthesia so they have access in an emergency. <br />
<br />
The anesthesiologist came in to tell me I’d sleep through the entire thing. I told her nope, I wouldn’t because I wasn’t having anesthesia. She looked at me with some combination of horror and disbelief. As if to say why would you ever do something so foolish when we have perfectly fantastic drugs? She asked the nurse if it was true, as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. I don’t know what it is about anesthesiologists, but I’ve yet to meet one who didn’t think I was insane for saying no to anesthesia. Not when I gave birth and not for this. Mind you, my chart had “NO ANESTHESIA” written on it in big letters, starred, and highlighted, so I don’t know how she missed it when she looked right at it. <br />
<br />
If you are having anesthesia, the anesthesiologist will come by and ask you a few questions, answer any that you have, and let you know, very briefly, that they will give you “something” to “knock you out” or “put you to sleep” and you won’t feel a thing.<br />
<br />
She went on her merry way and the doctor came shortly thereafter to take my stretcher and me into the procedure room herself! She was not the best driver, which she kidded about along the way! In the room there were 2 nurses and the doctor. If you have anesthesia, there will also be a nurse anesthetist. In addition to the blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter on my finger, they hooked up 3 EKG electrodes to my arms. I didn’t need the oxygen since I wasn’t having the anesthesia. Upbeat pop music was playing and we easily fell into conversation.<br />
<br />
The procedure itself took about 20 minutes. None of it was painful. The colonoscope is a tiny camera and light at the end of a long, flexible tube, about the size of a finger. At times, there was pressure and discomfort, especially while the advance the scope in the beginning all the way to the end of your colon, sort of like when you feel super bloated and have a stomach ache, or if you’ve ever been pregnant, feeling the baby flip around and push against your belly, but it didn’t last long. I think it’s mostly because they inject air through the scope so they can see, so you feel distended and gassy and the scope just feels weird as it moves around the bends. At one point the nurse pushed on my belly to help it round a bend, and that actually made it feel much better.<br />
<br />
Once they were all the way to the end of the colon they slowly back the scope out and that’s when they take a good look around, and that’s what takes the most time. This part was more comfortable. I watched on the TV screen and found it quite interesting. She showed me my appendix, the inside of my small intestine (very cool), and the rest of the journey was all the same looking. She did find and remove 2 polyps. That was also fascinating. I didn’t feel a thing! She kind of used a lasso and lopped them off. And then it was done. A little pressure at the very end, but nothing compared to childbirth and a hell of a lot shorter! Not bad at all!<br />
<br />
I did find this video and website by a GI doctor in the UK that talks about colonoscopy that’s pretty interesting, if you want to see what the colonoscope looks like and hear a little about the procedure from a woman who is a colon cancer survivor. . <a href="http://andrewgottesman.com/colonoscopy-video/">http://andrewgottesman.com/colonoscopy-video/</a><br />
<br />
<b>Recovery</b><br />
<br />
I was wheeled into the recovery area, which was just the other end of the big room I started in, and encouraged to let out the air. If you massage your belly and move around a bit it helps. You feel distended and gassy for a bit afterwards, but that didn’t last too long. They offered me something to drink and some toast, gave me a paper with pictures of my colon (what a conversation piece one of those would be on the wall!), and information on polyps. Those were sent to pathology to be tested and she said since I had polyps, I should have my next one in 5 years instead of 10, just to be safe, since polyps grow slowly, and although most are benign, they are what can grow into cancer in some people.<br />
<br />
The nurse took one set of vitals, then since I was driving myself home and didn’t have anesthesia, I got dressed and they walked me out to the front door and sent me on my merry way, with parting chocolates! Female MD’s are the best! I was so happy to be able to drink again, I was so thirsty! I also ate some eggs and a little bit of oatmeal when I got home. They advise a soft, “easy” first meal or two so as not to upset your system too much with something hard to digest. I wasn’t as hungry as I thought I would be. It took a few hours before the bloating and gas discomfort subsided completely, but I worked the rest of the afternoon and felt perfectly fine. <br />
<br />
<b>Final Thoughts</b><br />
<br />
All in all, I think people fear colonoscopy because it’s a mysterious procedure and because it’s not talked about in detail by those who’ve had them, or by the doctors and nurses who perform them and work with the people who have them all day, every day. Because it involves your backside and it’s an invasive procedure, people are anxious and fearful it will hurt, embarrassed because it’s “down there”, think they have no “signs” so they couldn’t possibly have cancer and thus don’t need to do it, or simply aren’t given the option to do it without anesthesia, which feeds the fear it’s painful.<br />
<br />
The prep sucked, and I don’t look forward to doing it again, but that said, after talking with others who did different kinds of prep, none of them were “good”. I didn’t have to drink a gallon of the icky stuff in 2-3 hours. I wasn’t up all night and got several hours of solid sleep, and it worked great. I liked the split dose and now that I have experience with it, I know the tricks to make it as manageable as possible. I would do this variety of prep again, if for no other reason than I now know what to expect with it. <br />
<br />
I think it’s important to keep in mind the purpose of the prep is to clean out your entire bowel system so the doctor can see everything clearly. This is a cancer screening, just like mammograms, prostate exams, and skin checks, it's just more invasive because it’s your colon, so keep in mind all the hassle of the prep, no matter how often you have to do it, is way better than treating colon cancer. SO many people avoid colonoscopies because the mere thought of it makes them uncomfortable. Anyone who has had colon cancer can tell you they’d much rather endure the prep and the colonoscopy, than the treatment for cancer, or taking the risk a pre-cancerous or early cancer area isn’t caught until it’s spread everywhere. A few hours of unpleasantness is a small price to pay for your health!<br />
<br />
I hope that sharing my craptastic adventure has helped to ease your anxiety and encourage you to have that colonoscopy, whether you opt to use the sedation/anesthesia or without it. The most important thing is that you do everything you can to keep your body happy and healthy. It’s the only one you get, so take care of it!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="248" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_elGTx_pfyCiau_6HQHhe1KEhXPieHBwVx0nAQZzITIZvD1Zanz2-XY3Y9b9VyumHloWCkyvzNtI83BO8W6WtO2rTzfTegwyrOKEXTaIHrNxCx3h0x2EnIbnUGbU8rjo_DDlWS5" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-46919264097341296522017-10-21T06:53:00.002-07:002017-10-21T06:55:47.484-07:00Losing L'il bean... Lessons in life, loss, and intuition<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0Q00-9GfJNlmEppm2B9otUdr-6TIGixnP9XawSffxsYrdFlVQcefKR1ZgMJrr0Jc_z4_27ufOfMhH0992DmUx8DJlDFve7_Blj2uMB_Nj3QIMIcxVe3n-sroLOk6ILFaooSBcgBuNnA/s1600/pregnancy+loss+it%2527s+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0Q00-9GfJNlmEppm2B9otUdr-6TIGixnP9XawSffxsYrdFlVQcefKR1ZgMJrr0Jc_z4_27ufOfMhH0992DmUx8DJlDFve7_Blj2uMB_Nj3QIMIcxVe3n-sroLOk6ILFaooSBcgBuNnA/s320/pregnancy+loss+it%2527s+me.jpg" width="320" /></a>October 21st. A beautiful Autumn day, yet again. Just another day for most people, yet one of tremendous significance for me. 16 years ago, I was 38.5 weeks pregnant with twins, certain I might be pregnant forever.<br />
<br />
17 years ago, I was having a very different experience on this day. It's not one I talk about often. It's not a birthday, holiday, or anniversary. Well, it is an anniversary, but not one that is ever acknowledged or talked about. But I remember. I remember vividly. It's an anniversary that changed me, my relationship with my then husband, and my perspective and understanding of something still considered taboo to discuss by many.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
If you've met me or read my blog, you know taboo and "not appropriate to discuss" is not a concept I subscribe to. :-)<br />
<br />
October 21st is the day I officially miscarried "L'il bean", sometimes referred to as "the little peanut". Now if you've had a pregnancy loss yourself, you probably already *get* the depth of that sentence.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Now, October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. How appropriate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAWR8ViB4THasr_PGj7NeQ4Wx9jG0LdiycklDf7eUKGhC0veYoBqmyKQyuefLpG4JvfIHNre5EgZAq6CymJx1RCgq0A8i4iRDNBo-r4oJkoCoCTsQoa_EtWlN0PewLNESaMDebsvpViQ/s1600/october+is+pregnancy+loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAWR8ViB4THasr_PGj7NeQ4Wx9jG0LdiycklDf7eUKGhC0veYoBqmyKQyuefLpG4JvfIHNre5EgZAq6CymJx1RCgq0A8i4iRDNBo-r4oJkoCoCTsQoa_EtWlN0PewLNESaMDebsvpViQ/s320/october+is+pregnancy+loss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
The thing is, a pregnancy loss is so much more than "just a miscarriage". It's a profound loss. The loss of a life. The loss of hopes and dreams. The loss of confidence and trust in your own body for some women.<br />
<br />
One in four women suffer a pregnancy loss at least once in their life. Some, have recurrent pregnancy losses. No one ever things it will be them. Yet we all know many women who have had pregnancy losses, even if they don't tell you about it. We need to break the silence.<br />
<br />
For me, at the time, it was one experience that taught me more life lessons than I could have ever imagined, even though it took years more to fully appreciate and understand them.<br />
<br />
Let me explain.<br />
<br />
L'il bean was conceived in late July. In Bermuda. I *knew* I was going to get pregnant based on a combination of cervical mucus and intuition. I had an almost 2-year old son, and was a childbirth educator, so I knew my body and what it's signals meant. Sure enough, 2 weeks later I was exhausted, emotionally labile, and constantly nauseous. Yep, pregnant with baby #2. I peed on a stick and it said so! It was confirmed by my midwife via a blood test.<br />
<br />
As you would expect, I was excited. It was almost too easy to conceive. For the next several weeks, I had the typical early pregnancy fatigue (which for me is always pretty significant) and nausea and oh, the tender breasts!<br />
<br />
Then, around 8 weeks, I suddenly started to feel much better. My energy came back and the nausea went away. In my previous pregnancy, that lasted well into the second trimester. I tried to shrug it off, as every pregnancy is different, but deep inside, I knew this pregnancy was no longer viable. I absolutely knew it. In fact, I was worried from the beginning it was not going to stick. I was afraid to say it out loud though. I remember writing it in my journal.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The words every pregnant woman fears</b><br />
<br />
Fast forward to my 12 week well-visit. As the midwife listened with the doppler, I hoped to hear that galloping whooshing sound, yet knew I wouldn't. No heartbeat. They sent me for an ultrasound. Confirmed. No heartbeat. No 12-week fetus visible. Then the questions. They asked me a bunch. I asked one. "What happens now?" It had been nearly 4 weeks since I started to feel un-pregnant. Why had I not miscarried yet?<br />
<br />
I got no definitive answers, other than "You will, probably very soon. It will be like a heavy period and maybe some cramping more than normal." I was given the impression it would not interfere with my day other than the usual inconvenience of a period would.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>**Somewhat graphic description to follow, may be a trigger for some**</i><br />
<br />
Another 2 weeks and change went by before I woke up on the morning of Oct 21st around 4 am, with what felt like mild contractions every 5 or 6 minutes. Must be the day. No other signs though. I couldn't sleep so I got up and wandered around the house. I tried to read. I had some tea. I watched TV. The cat sat on my lap. Sitting became uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
I woke my husband around 7 and told him what was happening. The discomfort was becoming significant enough I was seeking comfort on my hands and knees, rocking, and trying to do some relaxation breathing. I asked if he could stay home/work from home to care for our 2-year old, because I had no idea how long this was going to go on and how physically challenging it was going to be.<br />
<br />
He said no.<br />
<br />
He went to work. Even though he completely had the ability to work from home and take any conference calls from home. Seriously? I felt like I was in freaking labor. Of course when I was actually in labor with my son, he also went to work that morning...<br />
<br />
I called our day care provider, our son went 2x/week, but today was not one of his days. I explained what was happening and she said absolutely, she'd take him for the day. It was a 5 minute drive to her house. Ever try to drive while in the middle of a contraction or abdominal cramp that causes you to double over? Well, I did. Not. Fun. Walking doubled over was also a joy. Not.<br />
<br />
WTF? No one told me a miscarriage feels like labor, although it makes a world of sense. Except I wasn't miscarrying a 15 week baby. At best, L'il bean stopped growing somewhere between 6-7 weeks, if not sooner. I was quite surprised it was this uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
I had begun bleeding, like a heavy period. I took a long, hot shower. That felt good. I cried. I cried because I was alone. I cried because it hurt. I cried because I'd never get to meet L'il bean. I cried because my husband didn't care or couldn't handle dealing with me and my physical and emotional pain, so I was left to cope on my own.<br />
<br />
One of my most vivid memories is kneeling in front of my picture window in the sun. The cat was lying there. He knew something was not right. He was trying to give me love. Cats are intuitive and sensitive. I rocked back and forth. I cried some more. The contractions were 3 minutes apart and lasting maybe 30-45 seconds, but damn, it felt like labor. It was around noon.<br />
<br />
I called the midwife to explain what was happening and get reassurance I wasn't going to hemorrhage to death. She assured me it was normal. However, she downplayed my description of it feeling like labor. She said miscarriage is not labor, especially this early in a pregnancy. It's "just cramping".<br />
<br />
That pissed me off. I'm sorry, but I've been in labor and this felt exactly the same. I know how labor works, she knows how labor works, why the hell would it be any different? Your uterus is trying to expel a baby, whether it's a teeny bean or a full term baby, the mechanics are essentially the same. She said it could last several more hours, but once I "passed" the "contents" of my uterus, it would feel much better. She asked if I was alone and I told her yes. She told me I should have someone with me since I felt lightheaded and dizzy in case I passed out, especially since my blood pressure ran low and my son would be coming home soon. She said I should not be alone.<br />
<br />
I called my husband and asked him to come home, relaying what the midwife said. I was going to have to pick up our son by 3.<br />
<br />
He said no. Call my mother or my sister. He had an important meeting and could not come home early. BTW, that important meeting was one he could have conference called in to.<br />
<br />
Bullshit. Some would say he couldn't deal emotionally, but this was not new behavior. He was never attached to L'il bean. My needs and wants were never a priority. How I felt was entirely my problem. Pregnancy and thus, pregnancy loss, was my problem. My job was to accommodate him. He was the one earning the income after all. If I needed help, I should call on friends or family.<br />
<br />
Looking back, this day was the beginning of the end of that relationship. I didn't recognize it at the time, but his lack of care and concern for me that day changed something in me. It woke me up to a reality I was not entirely aware of before that day.<br />
<br />
I called my sister and she came by after school. She was in college nearby.<br />
<br />
Shortly after I called her, and just before I had to go get my son, I passed what felt like a golf ball. Probably what was the placenta. I held a tiny shrimp on my finger. Was that L'il bean? I was fascinated. I had a one-sided conversation with the tiny shrimp. Then said good-bye. I cried again. I cried a lot that day. I cried for the loss of L'il bean. I cried because my husband chose work over me. I cried because the sibling my son was supposed to be getting was but a memory now.<br />
<br />
Physically I felt much better. Heavy bleeding and cramping continued, but the contractions were gone. I was exhausted physically and emotionally. I was still lightheaded. I lost a decent amount of blood, I hadn't eaten all day, and I was no longer pregnant. Officially.<br />
<br />
I picked up my son. My sister arrived shortly after. She didn't really know what to do or say. I asked her to entertain my son and make him dinner. Around 5:30 or 6 I told her she could go home. I put my son to bed and went to bed myself. <br />
<br />
Funny, I don't remember the interaction with my husband at all that night. I may have withdrawn to the point of just avoiding him because I was pissed.<br />
<br />
<b>Supporting a woman after a pregnancy loss (or any loss of a child)</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
There are no words that bring comfort. "I'm so sorry" is the best thing to say. This meme really sums up how women feel when offered platitudes. It might make you feel better and make you think it helps the bereaved mom, but it doesn't.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_Bo0rxFKB9JCInE0-BFHkyP8DDFMFluojdEemBpe4r8hYTsU3xPrpV2KfS2vHFkNEjSeQ5inc3Af9o7NdECbfGk3qS1hMO6KmZ2YHKug9EZS5Tg_9cpUe0s_cVh0S7kmz4mFvYdQtjs/s1600/Fuck+loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="707" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_Bo0rxFKB9JCInE0-BFHkyP8DDFMFluojdEemBpe4r8hYTsU3xPrpV2KfS2vHFkNEjSeQ5inc3Af9o7NdECbfGk3qS1hMO6KmZ2YHKug9EZS5Tg_9cpUe0s_cVh0S7kmz4mFvYdQtjs/s320/Fuck+loss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0lRniPzhenJB1S0bq4aUqevIonzCM93q3gy8nXkbfd807iNg6-ARma5_p6J6AMY3xy0zOt6SSEqjM5w6-oXB8W2rDaj7Hzku997Q6pam__cr02-CB6v4Vr5Y9CNJSA1YzUWVIwuWzV4/s1600/bereaved+mother+meme.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0lRniPzhenJB1S0bq4aUqevIonzCM93q3gy8nXkbfd807iNg6-ARma5_p6J6AMY3xy0zOt6SSEqjM5w6-oXB8W2rDaj7Hzku997Q6pam__cr02-CB6v4Vr5Y9CNJSA1YzUWVIwuWzV4/s320/bereaved+mother+meme.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Try again?</b><br />
<br />
They tell you to wait 3 months after a miscarriage before you try to conceive again. That's kind of stupid advice, because if you do wait, and you do conceive 3 months later, guess what? Your due date will be very close to the anniversary date of your pregnancy loss.<br />
<br />
Guess what? One year later, I was 38.5 days pregnant with twins. Yes, naturally conceived. I was facing an induction. I had to go in for a stress test on the 19th. They wanted to induce, for good reason, and were determining if I (baby B in reality) could wait the weekend. The decision was yes, they could wait. Unless I went into labor on my own, I would be induced on October 22nd.<br />
<br />
I was hyper-aware of the significance of October 21st to me, but I was the only one. Would giving birth to twins one year after experiencing a pregnancy loss on the same day be difficult or empowering? Was one of those babies the same soul who tried to come earth-side a year prior, and this time came with another? Part of me wanted October 21st to be L'il bean's day. Part of me thought it would be rather amazing to birth not one, but two babies on the day L'il bean opted to "move out" of my uterus.<br />
<br />
As it unfolded, the twins were born on October 23rd. At 39 weeks exactly. I had hired a doula and had two midwives and an OB caring for me. I did not rely on my husband for any sort of physical or emotional support. I had learned that lesson loud and clear. He did lend some support, and sang my praises after the fact, but emotionally, I was not connected to him. I was fully connected with my babies. I labored with many people around, but somewhat alone, lost in the beauty that is hypno-birthing.<br />
<br />
Looking back, carrying twins to term, birthing them naturally, un-medicated, and with Meghan arriving feet first, was one of the most empowering experiences of my life. To hold those beautiful babies in my arms at the same time, gaze into their eyes, and know that I... my body, they, did something amazing that morning, it once again, changed who I was. It changed my perspective.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Lessons learned</b><br />
<br />
Now, 17 years later, I look back and I am grateful for L'il bean beyond measure. I never met L'il bean (or have I?), but s/he taught me so much more through the experiences s/he gave me than I could have imagined at the time.<br />
<br />
L'il bean taught me perspective, resiliency, the power of loss and love, and the importance of trusting your intuition. L'il bean opened my eyes to a reality I had previously not fully recognized. L'il bean taught me the "experts" don't always have all the answers, sometimes we teach them.<br />
<br />
Losing L'il bean taught me it's ridiculous to wait until 12 weeks to share your pregnancy, because then you have no support in your pregnancy loss. People are uncomfortable with talking about loss, but that doesn't mean your pregnancy wasn't important, that your baby's life was not valued, and that you have not had a profound loss. Loss brings grief. Grief deserves support. If more people talked about it, it would become the norm, and moms and dads and siblings would not have to carry the burden of their grief alone.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhNJxvHNqY4D1nmCqxtExKbg15osfmuZ8qPnauz5ZGgz_CDHWxyUUzIXBqPIP1OUlj1OoE-NlSZcAPY02mTduqZm38_BAUjaWduk9JxfM_BWxNGMJBmZ8XDhOSPjHyzhiUYwEu7RnO9I/s1600/mother+defined.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhNJxvHNqY4D1nmCqxtExKbg15osfmuZ8qPnauz5ZGgz_CDHWxyUUzIXBqPIP1OUlj1OoE-NlSZcAPY02mTduqZm38_BAUjaWduk9JxfM_BWxNGMJBmZ8XDhOSPjHyzhiUYwEu7RnO9I/s320/mother+defined.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
Thank you, L'il bean. I have this silly image of a bean with wings flying around, not unlike a butterfly. You were loved and you are missed. I am grateful for being your momma, even if only for a short time. You deserve a kiss. Hug. And a snuggle. I wish I had the chance to give you those in person, but perhaps your purpose in my life was to teach me the very lessons I did learn from you.<br />
<br />
And for that, I am eternally grateful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFPbTP7Gmw6t1kPn1COiNQq3G7WW-9V0af01_YulrRp2aCzkp9Glm8UsIL8ctoXgYTbxkTIPV3VIK3D2gEBrJ9LyrQjTP5ktAtWyKLaN2cwKxfs1dp4tkN3KWNCPphoDuaU2zc7lFePc/s1600/no+foot+too+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFPbTP7Gmw6t1kPn1COiNQq3G7WW-9V0af01_YulrRp2aCzkp9Glm8UsIL8ctoXgYTbxkTIPV3VIK3D2gEBrJ9LyrQjTP5ktAtWyKLaN2cwKxfs1dp4tkN3KWNCPphoDuaU2zc7lFePc/s320/no+foot+too+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-32951268634352824442017-06-17T14:33:00.003-07:002017-06-17T14:36:26.001-07:00Alaska Cruise Adventure: Day One - Embarkation on Radiance of the Seas!<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's here, it's here! It's finally here! It's sail away day! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZFRKXDdSljVfn8pnG448ZUx4oQfM7FVojSS15HXJunUAClugma9gpp9PNHaPRspIYLkO5YfCAXTq5Rnk6gYYFesgL486fzuczUacUfDEslb-MvPuRqgh0jt_A40l_cc5fZrCym7QIuY/s1600/alaska+ports+of+call.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="202" data-original-width="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZFRKXDdSljVfn8pnG448ZUx4oQfM7FVojSS15HXJunUAClugma9gpp9PNHaPRspIYLkO5YfCAXTq5Rnk6gYYFesgL486fzuczUacUfDEslb-MvPuRqgh0jt_A40l_cc5fZrCym7QIuY/s1600/alaska+ports+of+call.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKgbdaNNXyVn311Uh6I3y8c3rHcmhbhraS2OAsmtDpS07T5G1VrmS8VuJMFfBjwQsjHLtlagb7DwQBBZxBcEx1VvZy_sNwNZW7EA0CLEa5ABVG-CAiBEbawXKslO1HBrX10HrQvE1mEs/s1600/alaska+radiance+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="193" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKgbdaNNXyVn311Uh6I3y8c3rHcmhbhraS2OAsmtDpS07T5G1VrmS8VuJMFfBjwQsjHLtlagb7DwQBBZxBcEx1VvZy_sNwNZW7EA0CLEa5ABVG-CAiBEbawXKslO1HBrX10HrQvE1mEs/s1600/alaska+radiance+photo.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Today we finally embark on a cruise that has been nearly 18 months in the making, and although the day dawned cloudy and rainy, it turned out glorious, on many levels. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We had rented a car from National in Seattle and drove to Vancouver, BC. It turned out that the rental car return was in the parking structure at Canada Place, and all we had to do was drop the car off, walk a short distance to an elevator, and we were at the cruise port! Easy peasy! We arrived at about 9:45 am, anticipating boarding at 11 am.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">There were agents there to direct us where to drop our bags. We then were directed to customs, where we had a short wait at several check points (way too many, really, it was quite redundant). </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">First it was the cruise check in, where our sea pass cards were issued. Then on to security, just like at the airport. X-ray machines and metal detectors and the first passport and boarding pass check. Then onto a self check in kiosk for U.S. residents for passport verification and customs. The machine printed a voucher which we then waited in a short line, maybe 10 minutes, for a customs agent to once again check our passports and passes. He was a hoot. He figured out we were travelling in a suite, so he asked if he could join us. It was a quick check and off we went to a holding "pen". </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was here that the boarding process was unlike others we've experienced. Typically, depending on your level with the cruise loyalty club and type of cabin (suites), the higher level members and those sailing in suites get a private lounge to wait in and priority boarding. Not so at this port. Everyone was herded into a waiting area with seats. But some were left to stand. We sat there a good 45 minutes or so. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">There was no overhead PA system, so random agents said something we couldn't hear to folks on the ends of rows of chairs, and they began moving people by row of seats through a door. This magical door lead to another holding pen where we sat for another 15 minutes or so. We were waiting for the ship to be cleared by customs. It was not too long after that they began boarding. It was a bit of a wait in a long line to make our way from the cruise terminal and onto the gangway and finally onto the ship. I think we finally walked on the ship at about 11:30 am. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">As we like to do, we wandered the ship to get a sense of her layout. She was small, but beautiful. She was aptly named, Radiance of the Seas. Most everyone went to the Windjammer, which is the buffet style resturant for lunch right away. We headed there just before we were allowed into our cabins (1pm), after most people had gotten their lunch. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We had booked a junior suite. One of the perks of booking a suite, and for a cruise tour (cruise plus land tour), is that we earn double points in the loyalty club called the Crown and Anchor society. So for a 10 day cruise tour, we earned 20 points. This allows us to jump one full level with just one cruise! When we arrived to our cabin, there was a Happy Anniversary sign on the door and decorations inside. In a twist of fate, both my husband and I had the same idea to surprise each other with the Anniversary package! So we had two! He also ordered us a cake, which we snacked on the entire cruise! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4Tqx4-Vkl7sKxKVcdohf5FMhJ-F9r0eMoNAil1tTpL84Kx6xcg2LV19P7ncmZXnqc5ezKX28sgOWlmHbWxCjxp_t44rvb9L6-PEjYCVbxfLhvytlrj4PA9vye0oRRQmqLjNd7705A7g/s1600/20170602_120610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4Tqx4-Vkl7sKxKVcdohf5FMhJ-F9r0eMoNAil1tTpL84Kx6xcg2LV19P7ncmZXnqc5ezKX28sgOWlmHbWxCjxp_t44rvb9L6-PEjYCVbxfLhvytlrj4PA9vye0oRRQmqLjNd7705A7g/s320/20170602_120610.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside elevator</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJuV83FoLbR-r0n9xZJxDZqYTLq4v76pZ_cx3IxvDRD4CK4yc-FdY3jQDY9wF-OcDsAbCOGHiCabataE6tbAJUCDRZxZAcgRnHW_FolPtEbF36PusT0ZdXnv8F46LmRpv_ds_2cDiLH0/s1600/20170602_120914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJuV83FoLbR-r0n9xZJxDZqYTLq4v76pZ_cx3IxvDRD4CK4yc-FdY3jQDY9wF-OcDsAbCOGHiCabataE6tbAJUCDRZxZAcgRnHW_FolPtEbF36PusT0ZdXnv8F46LmRpv_ds_2cDiLH0/s320/20170602_120914.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rock wall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaE3RQTEE54MHNHxSJjsZTWdLtFBdOpK82GIr15k9uztARctSAtJ5yVnA_RL1MMiypE-L3LCD_DDLZxU6QDVDuPTGL_6EuOP31xY65N-HZXRFsBXAR0TZIyM2l_IGlQ2ZNSDu6aMhGL8/s1600/20170602_120958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaE3RQTEE54MHNHxSJjsZTWdLtFBdOpK82GIr15k9uztARctSAtJ5yVnA_RL1MMiypE-L3LCD_DDLZxU6QDVDuPTGL_6EuOP31xY65N-HZXRFsBXAR0TZIyM2l_IGlQ2ZNSDu6aMhGL8/s320/20170602_120958.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mini golf</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5AViqWQPI0hD3ne2TtBeqlttZeOH_lvdDQPz6cbmjEaa82PWHxPivq5FsphJGbpngBzewsr81-Iixjqszb_ItV6M0YJA7JrND-13on9tatXbTnQXLTN5tVrpXZ8hL7T89MUEGhNrtBc/s1600/20170602_121906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5AViqWQPI0hD3ne2TtBeqlttZeOH_lvdDQPz6cbmjEaa82PWHxPivq5FsphJGbpngBzewsr81-Iixjqszb_ItV6M0YJA7JrND-13on9tatXbTnQXLTN5tVrpXZ8hL7T89MUEGhNrtBc/s320/20170602_121906.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Colony Club</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0DiCFoKYu1M0tPym1-qyslJcX5R15oc3i7Y3kGFZMk7NX9kqPak6DE4hAfN0nYD5vdwsWgH9i4gF_x7Ldsup9KiiDgGCr9sRfBXnw4ey1xHYpQogb2xCrfFrQeAC6fpuSoOv-iXEJAg/s1600/20170602_130526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0DiCFoKYu1M0tPym1-qyslJcX5R15oc3i7Y3kGFZMk7NX9kqPak6DE4hAfN0nYD5vdwsWgH9i4gF_x7Ldsup9KiiDgGCr9sRfBXnw4ey1xHYpQogb2xCrfFrQeAC6fpuSoOv-iXEJAg/s320/20170602_130526.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cabn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjIoOI7PrGF6hHwtTos0slNCwTwS10RbO_iYlAdVlJm53yuUKOTx-crcGsFn397tYk8xmaYQT9bbFr1aOSd7KRMEFp4JIsyass01KO4S_ASjxKhoNhZVhkkSXJvdno7IEK6EabqTU7mw/s1600/20170602_130541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjIoOI7PrGF6hHwtTos0slNCwTwS10RbO_iYlAdVlJm53yuUKOTx-crcGsFn397tYk8xmaYQT9bbFr1aOSd7KRMEFp4JIsyass01KO4S_ASjxKhoNhZVhkkSXJvdno7IEK6EabqTU7mw/s320/20170602_130541.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our door</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMb8U6D0bTgj67CXTb0pAqV5xQ88z4Qj2qqxrqN65GqW7mes-18EQ5m-NKk_69HGOjGINInvvRMStelv3f0YA8qKYRlfYBFBRwWZvPS9U_2iwpXZZV4Ez6Bm6nr0YNxvU3R-hkjoWNnn0/s1600/20170602_130819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMb8U6D0bTgj67CXTb0pAqV5xQ88z4Qj2qqxrqN65GqW7mes-18EQ5m-NKk_69HGOjGINInvvRMStelv3f0YA8qKYRlfYBFBRwWZvPS9U_2iwpXZZV4Ez6Bm6nr0YNxvU3R-hkjoWNnn0/s320/20170602_130819.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bed, with anniversary decor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ18pJSWMwzPQE-jkQNBMNftkcIOYuSrUd-iw7veNYGA4w5BkEKI_K-5iqQwdP2rhNchzuod9Uua7vKo4g_huA2BbRp5RIh0OhnY-la_hxJ3yEn5bisDE2GHZdzF_NII2Z7KAVjjxoh1k/s1600/20170602_130851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ18pJSWMwzPQE-jkQNBMNftkcIOYuSrUd-iw7veNYGA4w5BkEKI_K-5iqQwdP2rhNchzuod9Uua7vKo4g_huA2BbRp5RIh0OhnY-la_hxJ3yEn5bisDE2GHZdzF_NII2Z7KAVjjxoh1k/s320/20170602_130851.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sitting area of jr suite</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eV0T-AdH-27NTHiWo-TcZKgJVW4QwQ2EnjEnCR8hTNdrS2Ht4F5dXYm_cfUVQk0cx29Q8LT2YmyvqFTNifhbVyuCtlpZP1tOSo5NdEFRhtK7SNbcN2ghavBVJuaK6TvYfE417PDSegQ/s1600/20170602_130857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eV0T-AdH-27NTHiWo-TcZKgJVW4QwQ2EnjEnCR8hTNdrS2Ht4F5dXYm_cfUVQk0cx29Q8LT2YmyvqFTNifhbVyuCtlpZP1tOSo5NdEFRhtK7SNbcN2ghavBVJuaK6TvYfE417PDSegQ/s320/20170602_130857.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting area of jr suite</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xpIkm8DlllY9Jpubi1qZIkKdWaVdQk6_oWtVdEO-tIgpjUvIc-lJG4L3rZw-bu52NW_09U8eq-uKpeR5gFhXaAkF_8VFVd4v1Vc8lFD43cfhoGKVeivpKwSAy-eBrS4OPVZEE9HMXd8/s1600/20170602_130942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xpIkm8DlllY9Jpubi1qZIkKdWaVdQk6_oWtVdEO-tIgpjUvIc-lJG4L3rZw-bu52NW_09U8eq-uKpeR5gFhXaAkF_8VFVd4v1Vc8lFD43cfhoGKVeivpKwSAy-eBrS4OPVZEE9HMXd8/s320/20170602_130942.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bathroom of jr suite (not shown, full size tub/shower)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBXndYNydiCAYv7uUwN6FfklPpETKtawLdEbqEMBcZg5ZMhqwgqwYWkfqVKJOdbD3IQOoUV1xBjI9qiUcErywRLgG0UjSdVDeACPB_CS7Mk_aVkR91Y1pdf-Z6DJ1m1uR_9aTRUGy82w/s1600/20170602_131103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBXndYNydiCAYv7uUwN6FfklPpETKtawLdEbqEMBcZg5ZMhqwgqwYWkfqVKJOdbD3IQOoUV1xBjI9qiUcErywRLgG0UjSdVDeACPB_CS7Mk_aVkR91Y1pdf-Z6DJ1m1uR_9aTRUGy82w/s320/20170602_131103.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dessk/storage of junior suite</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW20jVVT4vg5RQ7I2j2pb67ZbklmY8hP7697YpMIZ4SKpTtZYwLirmg3bdvvOt8_oQg7tjeBSPb1GTx4v5-qbLnFu3v17mJ3Dx2OAxFaOdDD7gYwnDdQg9uZ-3tUGsQFXbQiIpSX9Qpg/s1600/20170602_141103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW20jVVT4vg5RQ7I2j2pb67ZbklmY8hP7697YpMIZ4SKpTtZYwLirmg3bdvvOt8_oQg7tjeBSPb1GTx4v5-qbLnFu3v17mJ3Dx2OAxFaOdDD7gYwnDdQg9uZ-3tUGsQFXbQiIpSX9Qpg/s320/20170602_141103.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The main seating in the centrum ("lobby")</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgVUb_bfIvAVF2B5Fjgm5_U4LvVVmuF5N0QsRZ9t3J-_676EwJJamdPlRu9UokhRbuplyKnSmi6jwkMcOHqJspAW-nR6QYBfWefylqlLvjuVu6er9lZFpo4-dZ4_4V24bxZEG3Ud21stA/s1600/20170602_161910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgVUb_bfIvAVF2B5Fjgm5_U4LvVVmuF5N0QsRZ9t3J-_676EwJJamdPlRu9UokhRbuplyKnSmi6jwkMcOHqJspAW-nR6QYBfWefylqlLvjuVu6er9lZFpo4-dZ4_4V24bxZEG3Ud21stA/s320/20170602_161910.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">English Pub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xu1wzviU8W73OKmii82-Mu7PLmeHuyN6vf_DxC_6xEIF_sFYyeH6PPkwA-Oh5qfbvYZh3jXsuLP7JM16LNm1HdKnVtOkGmnPbIZSjMEerTuJ6Bpx1lfwzN9CESBExZG2k2UrLYg8cHc/s1600/20170602_162216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xu1wzviU8W73OKmii82-Mu7PLmeHuyN6vf_DxC_6xEIF_sFYyeH6PPkwA-Oh5qfbvYZh3jXsuLP7JM16LNm1HdKnVtOkGmnPbIZSjMEerTuJ6Bpx1lfwzN9CESBExZG2k2UrLYg8cHc/s320/20170602_162216.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solarium pool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfIAsAf2A62bhnl8mQTNZpRtCZVQkKJPKCtBga0KvDwpge4bItGuUiqLq_e-O-DXWvW1hAGB76_KVPZZoy_G6Nn63kUhQfSUoVoqHydS0dfdL0HL4tG-od5eU9QNSdOkyZ4Pxicc-BhU/s1600/20170602_162235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfIAsAf2A62bhnl8mQTNZpRtCZVQkKJPKCtBga0KvDwpge4bItGuUiqLq_e-O-DXWvW1hAGB76_KVPZZoy_G6Nn63kUhQfSUoVoqHydS0dfdL0HL4tG-od5eU9QNSdOkyZ4Pxicc-BhU/s320/20170602_162235.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">solarium hot tub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOReLN0wK9C5ndpctV_uyy5dF2kucehOb-AyiKEJT6ilnGpXX9WZqNPMlWt557eEDyGaM1VKaeeluYbkiuG8umGCSM8iATMxhwUWFp0XiCLI9hbOFoHwTcHRyn3APMVh_ZZl71TyShWs/s1600/20170602_162240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOReLN0wK9C5ndpctV_uyy5dF2kucehOb-AyiKEJT6ilnGpXX9WZqNPMlWt557eEDyGaM1VKaeeluYbkiuG8umGCSM8iATMxhwUWFp0XiCLI9hbOFoHwTcHRyn3APMVh_ZZl71TyShWs/s320/20170602_162240.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solarium pool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWwq888ZeG6lRHlR4pRhEfk9iJL8LnK1N7I6npGCt_vjwfL6Xtpha2iQrebvukcDsp7_fQ2vZpwSzp1RLQzC3BqgjDopzCxtxsjyotfrVz9YK2gZBbLKmdT-jq4_O1WWOxDhtVO-0u5o/s1600/20170602_162535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWwq888ZeG6lRHlR4pRhEfk9iJL8LnK1N7I6npGCt_vjwfL6Xtpha2iQrebvukcDsp7_fQ2vZpwSzp1RLQzC3BqgjDopzCxtxsjyotfrVz9YK2gZBbLKmdT-jq4_O1WWOxDhtVO-0u5o/s320/20170602_162535.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sail away</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzO_8HHdG97Lfy7iZXS98bklrEGVZUCGXtEmkSbdsXuZhb0XvAA1_kPUqCjb5vo5b0i7pNghNB8S5uCLCg94fLpqLmOQPZ3BwjDyld__bZeWl_8U4Z-AFakgZ5D8oBK59cKVCTnbiqanU/s1600/20170602_162607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzO_8HHdG97Lfy7iZXS98bklrEGVZUCGXtEmkSbdsXuZhb0XvAA1_kPUqCjb5vo5b0i7pNghNB8S5uCLCg94fLpqLmOQPZ3BwjDyld__bZeWl_8U4Z-AFakgZ5D8oBK59cKVCTnbiqanU/s320/20170602_162607.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sail away</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPGnaPTmF_H9TltyoAQ4ysO0ACzaObLnXacR4xmQpmKg-OVg7H30ikvRijl03eFcdH6XfIclAE3S1G7w26xvFNA3Sy8tYoi9TJ3nfYFpHGPrBuNJVYyz04yGX940ElwaoPa0X-O65RR0/s1600/20170602_171630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPGnaPTmF_H9TltyoAQ4ysO0ACzaObLnXacR4xmQpmKg-OVg7H30ikvRijl03eFcdH6XfIclAE3S1G7w26xvFNA3Sy8tYoi9TJ3nfYFpHGPrBuNJVYyz04yGX940ElwaoPa0X-O65RR0/s320/20170602_171630.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vancouver, BC</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnohd4HPPDqlF359wfhtGuLCIdLD3dI9AsBw1BXfdPS5hb8sBsw61zBmxtW6ZS9ulWtgXHbT-Nrn_NX8KLwhQMZ6EnbQBapNjj-ni1kjQSoOBjx4CXEbZyMjCRTfdWf9uUOAfaJufq_xA/s1600/20170602_172434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnohd4HPPDqlF359wfhtGuLCIdLD3dI9AsBw1BXfdPS5hb8sBsw61zBmxtW6ZS9ulWtgXHbT-Nrn_NX8KLwhQMZ6EnbQBapNjj-ni1kjQSoOBjx4CXEbZyMjCRTfdWf9uUOAfaJufq_xA/s320/20170602_172434.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squeezing under the Lion's Gate Bridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XfaMoTkdTtLnNRcOh0-mNxI8ZLzsUbzJFE5QVl_GxfbqAI7EQCrKsh4DIj3rkoq4EvSlBdXmrKLNveXQWYrYSdt9sfUDYbeaRjUyT9jTVty1AG78nUoFgap7MXBZNPdp6B7rYpviwbc/s1600/20170603_064859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XfaMoTkdTtLnNRcOh0-mNxI8ZLzsUbzJFE5QVl_GxfbqAI7EQCrKsh4DIj3rkoq4EvSlBdXmrKLNveXQWYrYSdt9sfUDYbeaRjUyT9jTVty1AG78nUoFgap7MXBZNPdp6B7rYpviwbc/s320/20170603_064859.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sevens card/game room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucbUHjzdU-XZtsrdcKDuevpTHZ_qmU8FvLoTthwgt-SDb8aDNqeve5ov9ZIdvIq3WLvqr-hmH_I1I-iGpsJ3Y-B2He4Pfjl5Kmp2ATnYIrhyphenhyphen8585XNpDj1RJLoHjHzULBscTI_GnLzQA/s1600/20170603_070055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucbUHjzdU-XZtsrdcKDuevpTHZ_qmU8FvLoTthwgt-SDb8aDNqeve5ov9ZIdvIq3WLvqr-hmH_I1I-iGpsJ3Y-B2He4Pfjl5Kmp2ATnYIrhyphenhyphen8585XNpDj1RJLoHjHzULBscTI_GnLzQA/s320/20170603_070055.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cool globe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRL6ENlPVvHbcIbQ4uYYZ8zGbU_vZ5uiBid9zP7aY9RoJUxiWKJAMCh70TfXB1gqp3bt2w4Yvd36Fvhlu7DD65RO0TK8Q88dt73Luyp78FT13ZxoshXMxstPx_Rq-mWvp0B4fjkTDeSQ/s1600/20170603_070352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRL6ENlPVvHbcIbQ4uYYZ8zGbU_vZ5uiBid9zP7aY9RoJUxiWKJAMCh70TfXB1gqp3bt2w4Yvd36Fvhlu7DD65RO0TK8Q88dt73Luyp78FT13ZxoshXMxstPx_Rq-mWvp0B4fjkTDeSQ/s320/20170603_070352.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of centrum bar and fancy stairs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPARQTvtnpuYtmNZ1LCaSgoc_lmE4i6gzbbCb8BxjmdlL7eSBa_hkNMQP4kHhbdLa4HGL_zDq8EZdUqL0qtwDMSaIf9-bYUJMamar0b8PbqFcEH47jexRLFNXV2Wdv4i_8CfMurwi67wg/s1600/20170603_070102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPARQTvtnpuYtmNZ1LCaSgoc_lmE4i6gzbbCb8BxjmdlL7eSBa_hkNMQP4kHhbdLa4HGL_zDq8EZdUqL0qtwDMSaIf9-bYUJMamar0b8PbqFcEH47jexRLFNXV2Wdv4i_8CfMurwi67wg/s320/20170603_070102.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Schooner Bar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh478o5JE6yuXUEAczRZr3mmr8I5vopv9uMXWsGWHEKV4dUsIQt8ykF0dKhxGfCcfD4opmp4A0OBAoxlcbBbDJA-yRL6XxjI3Ai-YVHlMSLN3iG1tPt24RjADs8YOzFtOjLAtVRTD3YNJI/s1600/20170604_000223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh478o5JE6yuXUEAczRZr3mmr8I5vopv9uMXWsGWHEKV4dUsIQt8ykF0dKhxGfCcfD4opmp4A0OBAoxlcbBbDJA-yRL6XxjI3Ai-YVHlMSLN3iG1tPt24RjADs8YOzFtOjLAtVRTD3YNJI/s320/20170604_000223.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Towel Elephant Surprise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The suite was gorgeous. Recently refurbished and much bigger than we expected. We were in cabin 1580, on deck 10, towards the aft part of the ship. One of the benefits of booking a junior suite is instead of the tiny typical cruise ship shower, we had a tub and a larger bathroom overall. We also had walk in closet with ample storage including shelves, top and bottom hanger space (bottom rods fold-able and storable if you do not wish to use them, a tie/belt rack on the door, plus ample storage in drawers and cabinets both in the bathroom and the main cabin. The beds can be arranged as two twins or a king. We also had a sleeper sofa and a chair and ottoman with two side tables. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The balcony was smaller than others we've had, but more a function of the size of the ship overall. There was a padded lounger and two chairs and a small bistro table. Since we were sailing Alaska, we did not spend much time lounging on the balcony, but more sitting in front of the glass admiring the scenery as we sailed by. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The muster drill (mandatory) was interesting. Instead of assembling at our actual muster stations (lifeboats), we were directed to Chops Grill. Apparently, all suite guests were there. We sat at the tables and waited for the crew to demonstrate and explain what would happen in an actual emergency. Others had to stand in other common areas in the typical stand in line formation with children and women ahead of the men folk. I guess another perk of being a suite guest. Once we were dismissed, most everyone headed up on deck for sail away. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We sailed away at about 4:45 from Vancover. The sun had come out and it was quite warm! As sail away often is, it was an enthusiastic and exciting time. We chatted with several others around us, many of whom were cruising for the first time. We had a lovely view of Vancouver a we sailed away. As we sailed toward the Lion's Gate Bridge, it looked like we barely made it under! In reality, I believe the Captain said we had about 14 feet of clearance! Eek! It was pretty cool to watch.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We then retired to our cabin to actually sit on the balcony and watch the mountains go by for a while. We then unpacked (we had gotten our bags before the muster drill!) and enjoyed our cabin until dinner time. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We had chosen the late seating for dinner, which was 8 pm. The dining room was about 70% full for this seating, with most cruisers opting for the earlier seating or my time dining. We were actually quite surprised by the number of folks we talked to who never ate in the dining room at all. Seriously, if you are going to cruise, at least try the dining room for dinner and lunch on sea days. It's so much better than the food in the Windjammer/buffet! </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0J5XIcRm2Xavgx3ux3ncUBBy1m8eQoaUwBWDfbgJpjVQTglhQOsbF88I8IUYueJA0ClCclL4m7oaf5YrOtA2GKu2Y13_HDoaqSzuX7xqdlO_PFLsQyWVfRgxganiOXEQ8GHvx493dxA/s1600/20170605_054851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0J5XIcRm2Xavgx3ux3ncUBBy1m8eQoaUwBWDfbgJpjVQTglhQOsbF88I8IUYueJA0ClCclL4m7oaf5YrOtA2GKu2Y13_HDoaqSzuX7xqdlO_PFLsQyWVfRgxganiOXEQ8GHvx493dxA/s320/20170605_054851.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the way finder, touch screen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00-ELUmMvFOjOPDNnTFtD4mVzB1oEl9faq9SxsEBvtGuP995QktVxXIDmJ0GcjXuCuvyPiDZF4CsqL4a03PQ7ylDA9bTOFiG7Mxc0eA4WSOBPyCbBPYNzorAjRrM8di9xfb5sdM-zHg4/s1600/IMG_4614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00-ELUmMvFOjOPDNnTFtD4mVzB1oEl9faq9SxsEBvtGuP995QktVxXIDmJ0GcjXuCuvyPiDZF4CsqL4a03PQ7ylDA9bTOFiG7Mxc0eA4WSOBPyCbBPYNzorAjRrM8di9xfb5sdM-zHg4/s320/IMG_4614.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from our balcony</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3FQZryMYG92R57Ucmr68GWqCjJAAQxq_CHMBEn2O-kmIUDXBZxmGwn-fIrF-fqymj05EPRFHc86fFsqvhFWnNRj-nHrFVPxuF0lSJC0Y1rFwfQKFYoFXVLOjJe8rjmmgrGVF5WyWuw0/s1600/IMG_4617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3FQZryMYG92R57Ucmr68GWqCjJAAQxq_CHMBEn2O-kmIUDXBZxmGwn-fIrF-fqymj05EPRFHc86fFsqvhFWnNRj-nHrFVPxuF0lSJC0Y1rFwfQKFYoFXVLOjJe8rjmmgrGVF5WyWuw0/s320/IMG_4617.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun setting from our balcony</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginhGvdEKo-NJ4e0beON8tgx0TZ9WiDmWXWIrsnx7WN4rBIgXgAIiOAoZD-cJTh3cQatEbxc1PcYxq8-tvHBsJWRfYaDIkwCQA1acWMVGLzK9B5-pBWxyosNJSfsPTxT9LUMEEd4YAG4g/s1600/IMG_4623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginhGvdEKo-NJ4e0beON8tgx0TZ9WiDmWXWIrsnx7WN4rBIgXgAIiOAoZD-cJTh3cQatEbxc1PcYxq8-tvHBsJWRfYaDIkwCQA1acWMVGLzK9B5-pBWxyosNJSfsPTxT9LUMEEd4YAG4g/s320/IMG_4623.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very cool glass elevators overlooking the sea</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiti9CaSzm_mJsvI5T88bZKJnXHECgfVXXxF3J3xuaf5BM2zpRqvVzuVbSDxDBCF55Yzm_lnCo_jPgWhmMS2SnjK8cAyDP6UYccHKqjYAldzZ1yTU_JlXYxhQMmNnzcn8amV8iniIaoYkw/s1600/IMG_4639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiti9CaSzm_mJsvI5T88bZKJnXHECgfVXXxF3J3xuaf5BM2zpRqvVzuVbSDxDBCF55Yzm_lnCo_jPgWhmMS2SnjK8cAyDP6UYccHKqjYAldzZ1yTU_JlXYxhQMmNnzcn8amV8iniIaoYkw/s320/IMG_4639.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing self-leveling pool tables!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4yjpyUmuiRqzjXf_3o3aphtXxeDQAeRBcdEH2XtsGJJtVvetqOv56K82x8c-wzANv0Is0yLhrzTY3w94-7evqrX-XCeruRAdHfKdsDwP3lBvKH1hKfzBuEmV5A7fwAQ_A5Wimdsxb3g/s1600/IMG_4648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4yjpyUmuiRqzjXf_3o3aphtXxeDQAeRBcdEH2XtsGJJtVvetqOv56K82x8c-wzANv0Is0yLhrzTY3w94-7evqrX-XCeruRAdHfKdsDwP3lBvKH1hKfzBuEmV5A7fwAQ_A5Wimdsxb3g/s320/IMG_4648.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ahhhhh, balcony</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We were seated at a table for 10, but there were only 3 couples assigned to the table, or the other 3 never showed up for dinner. We scored a window table for the first time ever and on two nights, we saw whales while we were dining! One pod of Orcas and a few humpbacks! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Our table mates consisted of a couple who were Pinnacle members with Royal Caribbean. To reach Pinnacle, you must have sailed at least 700 nights on Royal Caribbean ships. I'll let that sink in for a minute... We are now Emerald, which requires 55 nights on a ship (we earned it faster by staying in suites, so in reality, we've only taken five 7 day cruises and a 3 day land tour that counts as cruise nights). They were a lovely couple and were probably about the same age as our parents. The other couple was interesting. While nice folks, they tended to have a negative vibe, and did not really "click" with the rest of us. This is the hazard of group seating and with a low # of couples. We prefer to sit at a larger table ourselves, as we like to meet new folks, but it also helps if there is an awkward or uncomfortable silence or presence in the group. Still, we enjoyed our dinners and the company. We learned from all of them. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">After dinner, we checked out the entertainment on the ship and did a bit of dancing. Then we headed off to sleep, as we were still mostly on east coast time. Tomorrow is a sea day and I have a massage at the spa! </span></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com69tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-54535713430995283312017-06-17T13:58:00.000-07:002017-06-17T15:09:31.886-07:00Alaska Adventure: Pre-Cruise in Vancouver, BC. <div>
It's 9:46 am EST on Wednesday, May 31, 2017. I'm somewhere over the midwest, courtesy of Jet Blue. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our day began at o'dark thirty and our flight began at 6:44 am. For those doing the math at home, that's a 4 am wake up call and we were staying at a hotel at the airport! We live over an hour from the airport, and parking is outrageous, so it was as expensive or less to stay at the hotel and get an extra 2 hours of sleep instead of driving or taking a limo from home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I dozed for about 2 hours of the flight, and now, 3 hours in, my neck is stiff, my throat is dry, and my body already tired of sitting, but I'm excited. This day has been over 18 months in the making. </div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<b>Why a cruise?</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My husband and I first took a cruise for our honeymoon, nearly 5 years ago. It was our first. We were not sure if we'd like cruising. We didn't. We LOVE it! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This will be our 5th cruise. All of our previous cruises have been to the Caribbean. In talking to other cruisers and reading about destinations, everyone seems to agree cruising to Alaska is a bucket list cruise, and quite possibly one of the most beautiful one can take. We've talked about doing it someday ever since our first cruise. We decided life is short, so we'd make it our 5th anniversary cruise!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We are loyal to Royal (Caribbean) cruisers, so the cruise line was easy to decide upon. We (mostly I) spent countless hours researching when the best time to sail was. The Alaska cruise season is short, because, well, ice, cold, and darkness. So late May through early September is the window. Given our schedules, the kids' school and summer commitments, and the availability of my parents to be able to fly up from Florida to stay with the kids, we decided on early June. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Planning the Alaska Adventure</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I booked the cruise the day the Alaska 2017 itineraries went on sale for Crown and Anchor members (we get a one day jump on the general public), so we had our pick of cabins. That was in February of 2016. There was also a 30% off sale going on. We chose a junior suite on the starboard side of the ship toward the back. We also booked a 10 day cruisetour, so after the 7 day cruise, we have a 3 day land tour. Royal awards double points for suite guests, and junior suites are not *that* much more expensive than a balcony cabin, especially on the smaller ships. We'll make emerald status once we have completed this cruise! I tracked the price of that cabin category from that day and there was never a lower price, in fact increased by over $1000 at one point. Take home message: Book your Alaska cruise as early as possible. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have spent a lot of hours researching and planning our trip. Trying to decide what tours and excursions to take, what clothes to take, what flights to take, where to stay pre-cruise, what to do pre-cruise, and recently, potential weather we will encounter. We will be on the 3rd cruise of the season. The range of weather we must be prepared to deal with ranges from the low 40's (with a relative wind chill on the deck of the ship) to the mid 70's. Rain is also very likely, and looking at the 7 day forecast, very likely for much of our adventure. Wtih highs in the low to mid-50's. I did not expect it to be gorgeous weather every day, but I am hopeful it won't be cold and rainy every day, either. This made packing a challenge in terms of having to pack for 13 days and two or three seasons of weather. We take far less to the Caribbean!! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And today, it begins! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We landed at Sea-Tac at about 10 am local time. We rented a car from National, the only rental agency that allows you to pick up in the U.S. and drop off in Canada. I had researched the direct vs. a more leisurely and scenic route, but we opted for the direct route. It was less expensive to fly into Seattle and we wanted a rental car for a few days anyway, so this was how we planned it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Driving from Seattle to Vancouver was about a 3 hour drive. It was not terribly scenic travelling Interstate 5, and there was more traffic than one would have expected going around Seattle in the middle of the day, but we did get a nice view of the city without driving through it. Mt. Rainier was hidden in the clouds, unfortunately. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Whirlwind tour of Vancouver's gems</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was about 2.5 hours to the Canadian border. The roads got increasingly more scenic as we approached B.C. Lush, green trees and a gently curving roadway. The border crossing was quick and easy. More like a toll booth than anything else, but instead of paying a toll, you showed your passports, answered a few questions about the purpose of your trip, and you were on your way. We waited maybe 5 minutes for our turn.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwVQfNqYAZmFbGuub3cAjXn-RSUhPqZ6-SnzhpsoJuVRDiSdOwL-R47955PbYQcfp0L638ETjn1lTUi6Atc9_ihemYZRAtQpFoOwFvnD0cYiLapXzyTkWk1gbRgxVjMjYNQX-nr_mtGI/s1600/20170531_122240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwVQfNqYAZmFbGuub3cAjXn-RSUhPqZ6-SnzhpsoJuVRDiSdOwL-R47955PbYQcfp0L638ETjn1lTUi6Atc9_ihemYZRAtQpFoOwFvnD0cYiLapXzyTkWk1gbRgxVjMjYNQX-nr_mtGI/s320/20170531_122240.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Rainier?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-76Rl0Yzp4Wcz8BtgBaM_abOInp9IsIe4w8PCZxyI9KKTFOubVqt3bj5pUlXng1ILJn81VtMIDpbfqT4HOXw1L9oGDw506AV8mwBV1s7ABWvRjfkGTD_rLfLeuITGusQ_VCncILmVEzE/s1600/20170531_132826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-76Rl0Yzp4Wcz8BtgBaM_abOInp9IsIe4w8PCZxyI9KKTFOubVqt3bj5pUlXng1ILJn81VtMIDpbfqT4HOXw1L9oGDw506AV8mwBV1s7ABWvRjfkGTD_rLfLeuITGusQ_VCncILmVEzE/s320/20170531_132826.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road to Canada</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The traffic in Vancouver was also surprisingly heavy for 2:30 or 3 pm in the afternoon. We stopped at Van Duesen Botanical Garden, which was part of the plan. The afternoon was increasingly cloudy and threatening with rain. We walked around the garden for about 90 minutes, which was just enough time. It started to lightly rain just as we were leaving. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJo_Rs9etks8shPRDOOuOFnyqvgkMNBbGD1fczGRBg734JUj-d53CZH76fqCoapP6vNPeIU2L8e4kAYhQTjX11u7YlTj_-5RdH4H0vozEM9f5i9ICV67vrgjQJlCNelD2bdRSn7YskJ4/s1600/IMG_4512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJo_Rs9etks8shPRDOOuOFnyqvgkMNBbGD1fczGRBg734JUj-d53CZH76fqCoapP6vNPeIU2L8e4kAYhQTjX11u7YlTj_-5RdH4H0vozEM9f5i9ICV67vrgjQJlCNelD2bdRSn7YskJ4/s320/IMG_4512.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyEAPJy7g9LpY8AmMSug0x7hG3us4U3IBgVdeqqkOvJpMYbyDxJi9c0SekH6W3LTevYDh_Q-j4A_31sNdKojUL77rwRg4OC4lmq1LEg8yVMchXzm97wX_dvjc1ax4e-eY7e1gzMLBy4I/s1600/IMG_4522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyEAPJy7g9LpY8AmMSug0x7hG3us4U3IBgVdeqqkOvJpMYbyDxJi9c0SekH6W3LTevYDh_Q-j4A_31sNdKojUL77rwRg4OC4lmq1LEg8yVMchXzm97wX_dvjc1ax4e-eY7e1gzMLBy4I/s320/IMG_4522.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIosxwaEZ2MXG-RXDok92wZ1rfvEJlsFPJyxGLwYAtV8v_OPQlTxIgJUsk5G7aLZ6eXHUdD-Zf5JjqbNDjXMPXWhFWx-MlbPMIFscwuj2I8sbWFnjEFry2D9Piu-eSkhV7BnlMjIPE6k/s1600/IMG_4534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIosxwaEZ2MXG-RXDok92wZ1rfvEJlsFPJyxGLwYAtV8v_OPQlTxIgJUsk5G7aLZ6eXHUdD-Zf5JjqbNDjXMPXWhFWx-MlbPMIFscwuj2I8sbWFnjEFry2D9Piu-eSkhV7BnlMjIPE6k/s320/IMG_4534.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yod_OrAufsTJsX5BymFgf53tkfdO1z6x4oXtc9JBYQG606UFR0RLhox_mzKzg1pxSvBXe6srJsyIxVRTqQ61_Tx4iepKSHkSALYImukCclEaMV5ToxsgccgCG1PrXGi9OF-EdlY6Vgw/s1600/IMG_4548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yod_OrAufsTJsX5BymFgf53tkfdO1z6x4oXtc9JBYQG606UFR0RLhox_mzKzg1pxSvBXe6srJsyIxVRTqQ61_Tx4iepKSHkSALYImukCclEaMV5ToxsgccgCG1PrXGi9OF-EdlY6Vgw/s320/IMG_4548.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtix-BwyBUYCm8cW-xr-6o3Ylis9Y1KNY7qafo3egiNJv0AYCQ3UtLxSQB_v2mPsRXeMTXwgdg6egIaOtassQFE4z4DD38moMiBQAcSwFlZBGDjGMrcDCUI4Dvz6MX67n-nvZtkUHpmg/s1600/IMG_4549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtix-BwyBUYCm8cW-xr-6o3Ylis9Y1KNY7qafo3egiNJv0AYCQ3UtLxSQB_v2mPsRXeMTXwgdg6egIaOtassQFE4z4DD38moMiBQAcSwFlZBGDjGMrcDCUI4Dvz6MX67n-nvZtkUHpmg/s320/IMG_4549.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
From there we went to our hotel. It was in an area of Vancouver that was being rebuilt. Many tall office buildings and hotels were under renovation or being built. We stayed at the Marriott Residence Inn. It was easy to find (the city is a grid). There were 22 floors, it was quite large. More than adequate for our needs, and one of the more economical mid-range hotels from what I've read. Breakfast, which was included, was surprisingly good. Quite a variety of options despite it's continental/mini buffet feel.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our only full day in the city, Thursday, we drove to North Vancouver, to Capilano Suspension Bridge park. It was raining and we arrived shortly after they opened. They provide free rain ponchos if you are not prepared. It was $80 CDN for two of us, but worth every penny. What a gorgeous place. It's in a temperate coastal rainforest. Redwoods abound. Damn, they are huge! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The park is so much more than the suspension bridge, although that is spectacular. You do need to cross it to get to the bulk of the attractions on the other side. Those afraid of heights will find this a challenge to cross. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAa2-5luimAjCkBu25ocv_etedv5NdZ88aTbxNEJSbazoevKYVpNHfULKGUXxIvFqnmkwUDzreAzY4fvnroVzlhnGAKVN0mhi9_kzFMpvNChdDSzPnWHfywadoPKI4f6hvn_UYQ2tHqY/s1600/IMG_4560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAa2-5luimAjCkBu25ocv_etedv5NdZ88aTbxNEJSbazoevKYVpNHfULKGUXxIvFqnmkwUDzreAzY4fvnroVzlhnGAKVN0mhi9_kzFMpvNChdDSzPnWHfywadoPKI4f6hvn_UYQ2tHqY/s320/IMG_4560.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capilano Suspension bridge. Yikes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdv9pQ4xWoWTmNoCwbsBe7GLEd_HccwCSu3c57STX2VzsiFjSXeJcbMJ6ugktze_tZsigf1pb8n17Q4TQ7S6ZB4bT0OL59X763MDWtr59FXFCrEaSkogCNz2Z4S66yP-YbGzkRGoD4CM/s1600/IMG_4604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdv9pQ4xWoWTmNoCwbsBe7GLEd_HccwCSu3c57STX2VzsiFjSXeJcbMJ6ugktze_tZsigf1pb8n17Q4TQ7S6ZB4bT0OL59X763MDWtr59FXFCrEaSkogCNz2Z4S66yP-YbGzkRGoD4CM/s320/IMG_4604.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cliff walk! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkx4WFJ7Hnc1IF4fAY5jb4sAfjHfswIjeid92ZQoer5oOydZ-eZeCwY0xoTYM1Oi6YKZJ7LAC8jXV7DDdUwv-TC4neVcGDNovuDckO-3XNnnZLNT190ftz2b8jZg0dgbIp8sj0CqtB98o/s1600/IMG_4591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkx4WFJ7Hnc1IF4fAY5jb4sAfjHfswIjeid92ZQoer5oOydZ-eZeCwY0xoTYM1Oi6YKZJ7LAC8jXV7DDdUwv-TC4neVcGDNovuDckO-3XNnnZLNT190ftz2b8jZg0dgbIp8sj0CqtB98o/s320/IMG_4591.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful nature walk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid4ovYwZ-3J3_HsIwYw3GZo5i8K38CzRS7NNlr995MqmgaroT6o1VK2URnuUaYCgSBYKEbefYyKOCQMWRA9YtqQ5TalUiDFqcsFs3pREuLG8VREA0JsevgyYMb8Og-sg-yio_QqlO684/s1600/IMG_4570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid4ovYwZ-3J3_HsIwYw3GZo5i8K38CzRS7NNlr995MqmgaroT6o1VK2URnuUaYCgSBYKEbefYyKOCQMWRA9YtqQ5TalUiDFqcsFs3pREuLG8VREA0JsevgyYMb8Og-sg-yio_QqlO684/s320/IMG_4570.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cj4UXqn-hA8_fjcnzEqZpNfypO_Q-qEYDlcn99lMTDEQSSyqNxE7oTqKkH89SOqCjHO5nTQ1kX2NZXfglKzejNDuWCd15_iHjbrTXv6lBQJDMg0Juq-_aNQjdKj3TNzqyOqq7B9x9zI/s1600/IMG_4589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cj4UXqn-hA8_fjcnzEqZpNfypO_Q-qEYDlcn99lMTDEQSSyqNxE7oTqKkH89SOqCjHO5nTQ1kX2NZXfglKzejNDuWCd15_iHjbrTXv6lBQJDMg0Juq-_aNQjdKj3TNzqyOqq7B9x9zI/s320/IMG_4589.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BIG trees!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGziaoHJDDuJ-XnvyCvm1na-kQuv75PEB0E2SKlADXwuj0M6sUYan_Ww_qw50AK28xIc0prf3jXKv0EQxeORGSRSkFmLMYY0CYjMXGa6GHuhztxPjTyfkEa8LhEs4q4nyKz4Iifq7L4_o/s1600/20170601_100043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGziaoHJDDuJ-XnvyCvm1na-kQuv75PEB0E2SKlADXwuj0M6sUYan_Ww_qw50AK28xIc0prf3jXKv0EQxeORGSRSkFmLMYY0CYjMXGa6GHuhztxPjTyfkEa8LhEs4q4nyKz4Iifq7L4_o/s320/20170601_100043.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look up, not down! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We were there about 2 hours. We walked across the suspension bridge first. Holy cow. If you've never walked across one before, they are narrow, high, and you can most definitely feel the movement as people traverse it. Most people stopped for photos along the bridge. It spans the Capilano river. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once on the other side, there is a gorgeous and lengthy canopy walk. It involves stairs and mini suspension bridges with informative plaques/signs along the way and gorgeous, literally bird's eye views. There is also a nature walk along trails and boardwalks at ground level. The rain really gave it a unique beauty almost making the green pop. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We went back across the suspension bridge (only way back), and then did the cliff walk, which is an arched narrow (one person single file) suspension arch (no movement) from a cliff. It offers a different perspective on the river below and how nature prevails with trees that grow out of/around the rock. Educational signs and exhibits about water conservation and geology of the area dot the pathways to and from the cliff walk. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course there is a gift shop and three options for snacks, a light meal, and beverages on both sides of the bridge and park. Parking is self-pay for the parking lot or it's accessible but bus from the city as well. It's well worth your time and dollars, especially if you love being literally immersed in nature. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
From there, we went to Stanley Park.The rain tapered off, although it remained mostly cloudy the rest of the day. Stanley Park is huge, 17 miles around the perimeter which is called the sea wall. It offers paved bike and walking pathways on the seawall and many hiking trails through the middle. There is also an aquarium, a few playgrounds, a beach, and several areas to grab a snack or light meal as well as a few gift shops. There are even totem poles. We spent a few more hours there, walking and exploring. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvg3YGYQwXpYreYwZ46E35yMxXGvzl4oKnZ_P5wMjsUYIz96s1O1wL3JqW3sEHCpN8pezQTniLCw1-Fwd8GS_3IcMS8ES0obT6XjsnA90-JzAGDdeSXjM991GYe046WL4t48I36RWrSU/s1600/20170601_132459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvg3YGYQwXpYreYwZ46E35yMxXGvzl4oKnZ_P5wMjsUYIz96s1O1wL3JqW3sEHCpN8pezQTniLCw1-Fwd8GS_3IcMS8ES0obT6XjsnA90-JzAGDdeSXjM991GYe046WL4t48I36RWrSU/s320/20170601_132459.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stanley park sea wall and the Lion's Gate Bridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
From there, we went to Canada Place. Our intent was to check out where our cruise ship would be leaving from the next day. Canada place is interesting as it is attached to the Convention Center. There is also a Fly Over Canada movie, which we did. If you've ever been to Walt Disney World, it was Soarin' over Canada. It was well done. We wandered around for a while, then watched sail away for the Seaborn ship. Given it was now about 5:30 and we had not really eaten a meal since breakfast, I was starving. There was a bevvy of food options and we settled on an Italian place. It was okay, but at least we had food in the belly!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_WWZ9HrlUDsD-MFO4JdSOWU524et4YcW1oty5vc6BPmC6BDTvVjjZsztDGuW39OpT8Kln5WyO9fjlMF8IMA-NDBIW1VwKlCTMBgC161zrYlzHy0T2TDl-a7sfb97NBkXr08wB4YDo2w/s1600/canada+place.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1280" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_WWZ9HrlUDsD-MFO4JdSOWU524et4YcW1oty5vc6BPmC6BDTvVjjZsztDGuW39OpT8Kln5WyO9fjlMF8IMA-NDBIW1VwKlCTMBgC161zrYlzHy0T2TDl-a7sfb97NBkXr08wB4YDo2w/s320/canada+place.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canada Place</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By now, especially with the time change from the east coast, we were tired. We walked a few blocks to to get a case of water for the cruise and sea bands. Then we went back to the hotel and crashed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In hindsight another day at least would have allowed us to see more of the sights in the city. It is a lovely city, and there are parts of the city I had wanted to see, but we are not city people, which you may have guessed given our choice of how to spend our time. :-)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
If you are cruising our of Vancouver, it's definitely worth your time to spend a few days exploring and experiencing this beautiful city and all it has to offer. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tomorrow, we cruise! </div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-83630546092516491722016-12-27T11:27:00.002-08:002016-12-27T11:38:23.572-08:00Death and 2016. What have we learned? What can we do? F*ck you 2016 is a common sentiment in my Facebook feed these days. All related to untimely deaths of the icons of our youth. Prince. David Bowie. George Michael, and today, everybody's favorite Princess, Carrie Fischer. The list goes on...<br />
<br />
2016 seems to be the year of celebrity deaths, or, perhaps, for those of us who grew up in the 70's and 80's, a bad year with a simply a heightened awareness of how death can strike at any time, and perhaps, an unwanted focus our own mortality? Heck, many of these icons were in the 50's or early 60's. A mere 5-10 years older than many of us who grew up listening to their music and watching their movies. But we're still young! Wait... so were they!<br />
<br />
Every year, tribute reels are made to honor those celebrities and icons who have died. Every year, it seems, we forget how much those who died 1, 2, or even 5 or 10 years ago impacted us, or a different generation. It always seems like the current year is the worst, taking the most beloved of legends, most of them far too young and far too soon. <br />
<br />
I totally understand how the death of a musician or actor whose work you adored and followed for years, can be a shock and create a feeling of sadness and an honest to goodness grief reaction, even though you never met them. And of course, although your experience is nowhere near that of their loved ones, it's still real. Many of them were larger than life and their music and their movies shaped who we are to some extent. We associate emotions, life events, and physical activities with them and their craft. It's normal to feel some sadness at their passing.<br />
<br />
I find it fascinating how the prevailing sentiment is anger at the calendar year, as if 2016 were the grim reaper itself. Maybe it's because people are unfamiliar with the feelings around loss, anger being a common one of course, and so they throw it out there on social media. Followed closely by sadness, and reminiscing. Posting their favorite songs or movie scenes, lyrics or quotes. Sharing memories. Writing beautiful tributes. These are great examples of healthy grieving though, whether people realize it or not. There is comfort in knowing you are not alone in how you feel. <br />
<br />
I just wish everyone got the chance to see and hear these things while they were still alive. Celebrity or not. Seems like it would be more meaningful. Especially if the person you so adored and will now miss, knew all that before they died. Still, it's a comfort for their family to see the outpouring of well-wishes and memorial tributes.<br />
<br />
It would be a shame if it ended there. With a social media post. For there are lessons to be learned, choices WE can make now, so that we might not meet the same early fate. OR, if we do, or rather, WHEN we do, we are more prepared. Our families would thank us for that. It lessens the burden on them.<br />
<br />
So what can we learn from the deaths of so many icons of our youth? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzxAbWLfixJLn0HHXt1EglHV0BoG3-ukB3WkCuexxnn2TfNoe6yQqgRsgBCkh4NhUgVmAMuqyw3KHEwj32fMyZeR4CB7b7x33qSNAYfedr4Ok3EhD0FBmUwA8KHFeKes1TYCLaK5mf8U/s1600/buddha+you+think+you+have+tiem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzxAbWLfixJLn0HHXt1EglHV0BoG3-ukB3WkCuexxnn2TfNoe6yQqgRsgBCkh4NhUgVmAMuqyw3KHEwj32fMyZeR4CB7b7x33qSNAYfedr4Ok3EhD0FBmUwA8KHFeKes1TYCLaK5mf8U/s320/buddha+you+think+you+have+tiem.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Death is a mystery. One's life can end quite suddenly and unexpectedly. And that happens more than you think. </li>
<li>Death doesn't care who you are or what you do. It can happen to a celebrity, your neighbor, or someone in your family equally. You can have the best medical care in the world, or appear to be healthy and vibrant, and still die unexpectedly. You could be the sickest person, who "should" have died years ago, and yet, hang on well into your 8th or 9th decade. Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to it. At least not on the surface. </li>
<li>Prepare the appropriate documents now. Health Care Proxy, Power of Attorney, life insurance, Will (especially if you have kids). They are not hard to do, can be done online or with an attorney, but are so very important and not having one can make it a living hell for those left behind, with the state often determining how your assets are distributed, which may not be the way you wanted it and with the added cost of probate court. Consider having those who are elderly or terminally ill pre-pay their funeral expenses (average funeral cost is about $6-8K)</li>
<li>Given we are not guaranteed a tomorrow, or even another hour, perhaps we should try to treat every day as if it might be our last. Say I love you. Don't hold grudges. Forgive. Pay it forward. Choose love, not hate. Spend quality time with your family and friends. Live with no regrets. If you can't say something nice, don't say it at all. Give to others: time, caring, words of encouragement and support, love, meet their needs.</li>
<li>Don't fear death. It's going to come, one day or another, to all of us. Prepare for it. Talk about it. Share your wishes with your family/friends. CPR or no? Breathing or feeding tube? Burial or cremation? Calling hours or a party? Donations in your memory to a favorite charity? What would be important to you in your last days/hours if you had that luxury? Who would you want with you? Who don't you want with you? In a perfect world, how would you want to die? </li>
<li>Be honest about the circumstances of a death when it happens. So many people withhold cause of death when it was due to causes associated with stigma like suicide, drug overdose, murder, or a communicable disease, especially a sexually transmitted one. If we talked about these things, if we knew about them, we could help both the person and their families better cope, and maybe, just maybe, help to break the stigma and save lives...</li>
<li>Realize that while sometimes, we have no idea what causes an otherwise healthy person to just up and die, many of the icons lost this year (and probably every year) had histories of admitted drug abuse. Drugs mess you up. Inside and out. How badly depends on the drug(s) used and how long they were used. They can damage your heart and your brain and have long term residual health impacts years after you stop. So maybe that heart attack was not such a surprise after all, people just don't come with expiration dates.</li>
</ul>
<div>
What else can we do to help others?</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Know the signs of a heart attack or stroke. Take them seriously, in yourself or someone else. When in doubt, call 911. IF you wait, thinking it's "nothing" or "indigestion" or "something you ate" you or your loved one could wake up dead. ER's are no fun, but neither are funerals. </li>
<li>Learn CPR and first aid. Know where to find AED's and how to use them (the machines walk you through it, it's easy). CPR and AED's save lives. While not every life will be able to be saved, no lives will be saved if no one does CPR or uses an AED if available. Everyone should know how to save a life!!</li>
<li>If you know someone who is struggling with depression, mental illness, drugs or alcohol, a chronic illness or chronic pain, reach out to them. Offer to listen, to help, to check in on them. Call them out and show them you care. Know the signs of suicide, know where to get help, and help them get that help. Far too often, friends and even family only learn of one's struggles with those demons after they have died. </li>
<li>Be the change! Honor the lives of your favorite celebrity by learning CPR in their honor, donating time or dollars to a charity related to their cause of death or one they supported, whatever resonates with you.</li>
</ul>
<div>
2017 is mere days away. What will your resolution be? Might it be to learn CPR? To reach out to friends who seem to be struggling? To say "yes" to family more often? To vow to be positive instead of negative in your social media posts and interactions with others? To take that dream vacation? To live even one day as if it's your last to give you perspective and insight on what's *really* important to you? </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here's to a happy, healthy, joyous and peaceful New Year for all. </div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-69212247800086710682016-09-17T05:52:00.000-07:002016-09-17T05:53:35.440-07:00Helping someone who is suicidal, a true story<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is a true story. The reality is it could be your story or that of someone you know. It probably already is, whether you know it or not. It’s a story everyone needs to hear. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-3a7d6de0-3832-d978-98a4-f5db3c54ef38" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s the story of how last Friday changed my life and that of a dear friend. A story quite literally about life and death. A story that could save the life of someone you know, work with, or love. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's a suicide story. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And you need to know what to do if someone you know tells you they want to kill themselves, or have a plan to commit suicide, or have actually tried to end their own life. This is a great resource if you ever need it: </span><a href="https://afsp.org/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://afsp.org/</span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last Friday was like any other day, until I met up with a friend in the evening. She struggles with depression, but is on medication and sees a therapist regularly. Over the past several months, she has shared with me things about her life and her struggles that she had never told anyone else, other than her therapist. It was clear from her behavior, it was a bad day for her. I could tell she was “off”. She appeared on the verge of tears and more sad than I’d seen her in a long time. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I asked her what was going on. At first, she dismissed it. “I’m just having a bad day.” But I pushed her on it. “Sweetie, I can tell you are having a hard time today, what’s going on?” </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She fought back tears. We hugged. Finally, she said, “I was at your house today.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: “Oh, really? Why?”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: “I brought you a box… for safe keeping.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: “Where did you put it? I didn’t see a box.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: “I came back to get it.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: “Why?”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: “I didn’t want to scare you.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: (alarms going off in my head) “What was in the box?”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: “Letters… dreams.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: (Thinking holy crap, this is way worse than I thought. Putting my arms around her and hugging her as she started to cry) “Tell me what happened”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: With tremendous pain, fear, and profound sadness in her eyes and her voice, “I… (she told me the story of her suicide attempt that afternoon)” The details of the day omitted to protect her identity, but she tried deliberately to take her own life through carbon monoxide poisoning. She didn’t want to live with the emotional pain any more. She did not see any other way out. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. She was “done”. And she was absolutely 100% convinced it was her only option.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: (doula mode) “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry you are hurting so much. I’m so glad you didn’t go through with it. Why did you stop? What made you change your mind?”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her: “I didn’t want to hurt anyone”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Holy freaking crap. She almost died today. By her own volition. And I’m the only one who knows. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What does one do at this point? When a friend isn’t just depressed, doesn’t “just” express suicidal ideation (“I wish it would just end” or “When I’m gone, this won’t be a problem anymore”), but actually has a plan to end their life, or worse, in this case, has actually made an attempt, it’s a mental health crisis. You MUST take it seriously. It is truly a life or death emergency. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s a very delicate dance. One between getting them to the help they need and driving them further into their depression and a future attempt, one that very well could be successful.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I knew she was in a mental health crisis. Obviously. While she stopped her attempt that day, she was in no way out of the woods. She was still in crisis. She needed intervention and help. Yet at that very moment, only me and her therapist knew about her “baggage” and I was the only one who knew she had attempted suicide that day. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She needed to go to the ER. She needed crisis intervention. Her life was literally in the balance. She wouldn’t go. We talked for over an hour. Her therapist was out of the country on vacation. It was Friday night. Of course. Late. Her doctor was not the one on call, and even so, they would have told her to go to the ER. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tried to get her to come home with me for the night. She refused. I tried to get her to let me go home with her for the night. She refused. Adamantly. She was going home to her husband, who was sleeping and had no idea how depressed and suicidal she was. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I told her I loved her, that we’d get through this together, and that she needed professional help. I made her promise that she would not make another attempt that night, and if she wanted to, she was to call me ASAP. No matter what time it was, and I’d talk to her, come to her, do whatever she needed to get through those feelings. Or she could call the suicide prevention hotline or 911. She agreed. I knew it could be an empty promise, and she’d never call 911, but I also felt I had to walk a very fine line between trust and intervention at this point. We made a plan to get together the next morning and she agreed. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mistakes…</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In retrospect, I should not have left her alone that night. Neither of us slept very well. I should have insisted on staying with her. The anxiety I had all night was nothing compared to what she was experiencing. By the grace of God, she kept her promise to me. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The next day, which I later learned, was actually national suicide prevention awareness day, we spent almost the entire day together. It was eye-opening. We talked. A lot. She shared openly and honestly about how she was feeling, some of the things in past and her current life that were contributing to her emotional pain. Some of which I had not heard before. She shared about the history of her depression, what her thought process was on Friday, the planning, the letter writing, how she went about her day, the attempt, what stopped her, and that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">she regretted turning off the engine</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. (more alarms in my head). The only thing keeping her from going through with it then or again, was that she didn’t want to hurt the people she loved. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We talked about how maybe her meds needed adjusting. It can happen that over time, they become less effective. Suicidal ideation can be an ironic side effect of antidepressants. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We talked about others I knew who had struggled with the same situation. Depression, suicide attempts, intensive hospitalization and therapy, and where they are today in terms of coping, thriving, and how they are feeling emotionally. How important support and understanding is for family and friends, but that they need to know to be able to support and help you.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We talked about how she needed more intense therapy than once a week or every two weeks to get through this rough patch. Maybe even an inpatient program for a few days to help her through this until her therapist was back. Or a daily outpatient program. I was trying to plant seeds gently, that she really needed more support and professional help, what the options were, and gently nudge her toward it. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her therapist had NO Idea she was suicidal. No one did, except me and now my husband, also a friend of hers, who she shared with as well. She hadn’t told anyone else. My friend still did not understand why all of sudden, she was so overwhelmed on Friday that she tried to end her life. She admitted to thinking about suicide before, but this time she had a plan, took the time to write goodbye letters, bring them to me, and then follow through with an attempt. This was a big, scary change for her, and for me. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have had basic suicide prevention training in the past and my doula training and grief support work and experience all came in handy in this situation. I had done some research for her that morning (she is not technologically savvy and in her current state of mind, would not have thought of or had the energy or motivation to seek help or information on her own) and printed some articles specifically directed to those considering suicide. They were excellent articles. She looked at one and said, “Yes! That’s it. That’s how I feel!” They were written by people who had attempted and recovered. Others were written by professionals, but specifically to the suicidal person. I also lent her some books I thought would be helpful for her. I gave her the suicide prevention hotline numbers and resources. All in a purple folder, which she drew a heart on.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I reminded her she was not alone. She wasn’t alone in feeling this way. She wasn’t alone in needing help to get through it. And that she could and would get through it. Suicide is a long term solution to a short term problem. The problem is our brains, when we’re depressed, because of the chemical imbalances in there, can’t see that it’s a short term problem, and suicide becomes the only apparent way out. But it’s not!</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the articles included a safety plan or contract. I guided her through it, helping her to make her safety contract with me. I reminded her I loved her. I was there for her 24/7, and she was absolutely to call me if she felt overwhelmed, wanted to talk, couldn’t sleep, or felt like she wanted to attempt again. She still was not willing to share her pain and feelings with anyone else. She still felt like she was a burden to everyone, especially me. But she also didn’t want to disappoint me.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She was still not willing to go to the emergency room. She would still not stay with me or allow me to stay with her. Her husband was home though and they had plans together for the evening that she didn’t want to change. She wouldn’t be alone, even if he had no idea what was going on. She said she felt much better if she was not alone or busy. She was adamant, ADAMANT that he not know. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She did not understand how dire a crisis she was in. The depression was too profound and overwhelming. She did agree to contract for safety with me. We did it together. It concerned me that the part of the contract that said “these are the things I have to live for” was the hardest box for her to fill out. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yet, something in her eyes, her voice, told me she was in a slightly better place than she was 24 hours earlier, but still at huge risk. It was probably the fear of breaking a promise to me that kept her alive that day. Again, I should not have left her alone, but I was still walking that tightrope of trust vs. forced intervention. I wanted her to get to the point of being willing to get the intervention. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We kept in close contact via text and phone that evening through the next day. She went to church and spent the day with her husband and working, she said being busy was good and helpful. She felt a little better. But woke at night scared and panicked not knowing why. She struggled when she was alone. She was not going to be alone at all that day or night. This was a good thing. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I called a friend who is a physician to talk about the situation in confidence and protecting her identity. She was very helpful. She, too, said close observation was really important until we could get her to the doctor or ER. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I realized my goal, what I’d been doing all weekend, was that I was trying to keep my friend alive until Monday morning, when her doctor would likely be the one to convince her she needed the hospital. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Monday was an incredibly stressful day. My friend went to church in the morning, then was going to work. I texted with her from the time I got up at 6, all morning, until she heard back from her doctor. In the meantime, I was managing a rather emotional crisis at work, as well. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then I got the text, “My doctor can’t see me today. She told me to go to the ER. I can’t go. I have to go to work!” I excused myself from an important meeting I was in and called her. We talked. She was in a panic about work. I gently said, “if the doctor thinks you should go sweetie, you should go. We’re all worried about you. At the hospital, you can see a doctor and a therapist. They’ll help you figure out what you need next. I’ll come get you. I’ll go with you. I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you alone. We’ll do it together.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We talked for a while. Finally, we reached a compromise. She agreed to go after work. She agreed to let me meet her at her work so I could go with her. When I got there, she said the doctor’s office had called a few hours ago to ask if she had gone yet. I said that’s because they care and are worried about you, too. We sat in my car and talked for about 45 minutes. We talked about how she was feeling, what might happen in the ER, and why I really, really, felt this was important and necessary, even though I wished it were easier and didn’t involve an emergency room. While we were sitting there, her actual doctor called to see if she had gone yet and to try to compel her to go if she had not yet. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ER system for depression and suicidal ideation is horribly broken</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What happens next is a horror story of sorts. Our emergency mental health system is fucked the hell up. I’ve been in emergency rooms before, and this particular hospital's ER is one that personally, I’d avoid like the plague, but it was not my choice. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And truth be told, from people I’ve talked to, this is the way mental health emergencies are handled in most ER’s. It’s a freaking nightmare, especially for people like my friend, who are *just* depressed and suicidal, not suffering from drug addiction (and combative, restrained, and psychotic), schizophrenia, violent, or otherwise socially disruptive. Unfortunately, nearly everyone else in the ER that night was like that.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We arrived about 6:15 pm. She was triaged, and that was the only point at which we were separated. It was about 15 or 20 minutes. Then I was allowed to join her in the ER bay. Unfortunately, we were brought to the psych ER. Which was packed. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because it was a psych ER, and they had no idea how much of a danger to herself she was, they took everything away from her. This is protocol. She had nothing but her clothes, which they also eventually took in exchange for the sexy hospital johnnie and pants and socks. You couldn’t have curtains pulled unless the doctor was with you, so we were forced to witness the craziness that was happening around us. It was downright scary for her. I’d seen much of it before in my 25 years in health care, but I was horrified that this was the system. It was painfully eye-opening.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who the hell ever thought it was a good idea to bring someone who wants to end their life into an ER for “help”, where they sit for 8+ hours, alone, frightened, held against their will even if they wanted to leave (she was section 12’d, which is a precaution for anyone who is suicidal, which means with a doctor’s order they can be held against their will for 72 hours), and have to witness things that you normally would only see in scary movies? How is that helpful? How does that make them want to see that there is something to live for? How does that convince them an inpatient stay on a mental health unit (which they assume is just like this) is a good thing or something they would want to do?! Seriously? How can anyone think this is a good or helpful thing? Why can’t it change?</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We saw a woman kicking, screaming, swearing, being held down by 3 people, 4 point restrained and then actually break leather restraints. She was then handcuffed to the stretcher. We saw a man come in with a huge backpack, and then the police officer confiscate 3 knives from him. He later escaped the ER. There was yelling, screaming, swearing, chaos, gawking and commenting by the other patients, and it was in overflow. It was noisy. It was loud. The energy was negative and chaotic. There was no way anyone could rest who was not flat out unconscious. It was horrible. It was exhausting to witness, let alone be in crisis yourself and having to process and cope with all that.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Neither she, nor I, are likely to ever go to an ER for a mental health crisis again. Certainly not that one. And that’s really sad. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was close to 2 hours before she saw a doctor, who was not at all compassionate, and came in to say “It’s my job to medically clear you” put a stethoscope on her chest for 10 seconds and said, “You are medically clear, but you have to be seen by our crisis team. They’re busy, it could be a while. I’ve signed a section 12, so you’re not leaving. Then we’ll try to find you a bed here, but it’s really busy.” And she walked away. WTF?</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My friend looked at me, eyes wide and full of fear, “I don’t belong here” She was right. She belonged where she could get immediate mental health support, yet unfortunately, in a mental health crisis, the ER is the gateway to *real* help. There are no direct admits to inpatient mental health programs. There are no direct admits to intensive outpatient programs. Or if they are, they are for those with established histories, not for people like my friend. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And it was the only place for her to go to get TO the help she needed. Every other person in a position to help (therapist, MD) told her she had to go to the ER. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She allowed me to call another friend (the doctor friend) to join us. We distracted her from the chaos around us, we talked, we hugged her when she cried, we watched DWTS (a nice distraction), we praised her for doing this incredibly difficult step to helping herself to get better, we asked for water for her (they never once offered), we fed her a snack when she was hungry, because she never had dinner and barely ate lunch. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We kept asking the staff when the crisis team would come. They kept saying they’d call and then we heard nothing. “Might be 2 or 3 am…” Seriously? When she’s friggin exhausted and scared and has been here for over 8 hours? How is this helping her? No wonder the other guy escaped. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The other friend left around 11. I stayed with her. I was the only visitor still in the psych ER. At one point, a nurse or sitter came by and rudely said, “You’re going to have to leave, no visitors” But she never came back. I think someone saw that my friend was not like the others, and really, she wasn’t. They saw how scared she was, how “simply” depressed she was, and how much having me there was helping her to cope. I was quiet and so, I stayed. I’d have put up quite a fuss if they tried to kick me out. Maybe they knew that too? </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally at about 12:45 am, after asking AGAIN, when the crisis team was coming for her, the social worker came. They went off to a private room to talk for about an hour. I did some work.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They returned about 45 minutes later. The social worker asked to meet with me. We went off to the private room together and talked for about 15 minutes. She was very kind. She asked me about what had happened to make me bring her here, thanked me for being a good friend and for quite possibly, saving her life. She expressed her concern for her, mostly for the level of planning that went into it and the fact that she had actually attempted suicide. She recommended an inpatient program. Said there were no beds at that hospital, so she’d be in the ER for a while, and then either go upstairs or somewhere else for inpatient. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We went back to my friend. The social worker told her she was going to have to stay. She cried. But by then, she realized she needed the help and had given in. She really didn’t fully understand she couldn’t have left if she wanted to. She just wanted the hell out of that ER. IF she needed to stay inpatient, they let’s get this show on the road. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We hugged. She asked if she could have her phone to get a few phone numbers. The social worker got her phone, allowed her to write down the numbers and then took the phone away. She could use the house phone on the wall. The social worker said I could stay as long as my friend wanted me to, they would not make me leave. They would call her husband for her. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We talked for a bit more. She was tired. I encouraged her to try to get some sleep. She told me to go home. I offered to stay, reminding her I’m a doula, I’m used to and good at this all nighter in a hospital thing. Besides, I was now overtired and wide awake. It was 2 am. She said she really wanted me to get some sleep and she was going to try to do the same. I asked for another pillow and blanket for her, turned out the light in her bay, tucked her in with a kiss, told her I loved her and I’d be in touch. I got home about 2:30 am, but couldn’t really sleep. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The next morning she called from the wall phone to update me. She called again that afternoon to tell me they were transferring her to another hospital’s adult mental health unit. From what I’d heard about it, it was a good place for her. I thought it would be better than the unit at the hospital where she was. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ve kept in touch via text messages. She gets to use her phone a half hour in the am and pm, and can use the house phone other times to call. I finally got to visit her yesterday.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She’s in a better place emotionally. She has a new med and it seems to be helping. The education and support on an inpatient unit is proving to be insightful and helpful for her. Her husband and family and some friends now know at least some of the story. They are visiting her as well. Her support network has gone from two people to double digits. There is relief in that for her. She doesn’t have to carry it herself. She doesn’t have to hide her feelings. And of course, everyone is supporting her, not saying she’s a burden or a “horrible” person like she feared they would. She is grateful. Even though the work is hard and the process is long.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yesterday, she said it was the first day she woke up and thought that she actually wasn’t ready to go home. She realizes now, with the distance, clearer head, and perspective of seeing what other people with mental illness struggle with, and the benefit of the group work and hearing other people’s stories, what a bad place she was in and that she didn’t see it at the time. She doesn’t want to feel that way again. She wants to live. She wants to get better. She believes she can now. She knows she needs more coping strategies, med management, and talk therapy. She knows she still needs a safety plan when she gets home. She is glad she is where she is, as hard as it is. She thanked me over and over. I told her the best gift she can give me is to get herself well so we can go out and celebrate the amazing person she is and her life, together. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hopefully, she’ll be home by the end of next week. She’s already getting support systems in place with the help of the staff there. They asked her if she wanted me to be a part of her discharge planning family meeting, because I was the one who saw the need to get her to this level of help and she apparently told them how much she valued my support. She doesn’t want to bother me or make me miss work. I told her if she wanted me to be there, I would be. Not a problem. And even if I wasn’t there, I am still a part of her team as long as she wants me to be. That contract doesn’t expire. Ever. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Caring for the Caregiver</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now that it’s been a week, and I’ve had the chance to talk with her for the first time since that nightmare in the ER, I realize how incredibly stressful it’s been for me. When you are in crisis management mode, you are in that mode. The emotional impact of that often hits you later.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I barely ate or slept all week. Work has been insanely stressful as well, which of course, did not help. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I realize now, I spent 3 full days last weekend, desperately trying to keep her alive and get her to the help she needed. I did so without the full support of my husband, who disagreed with me on how at risk she was and taking her to the ER (despite the fact every therapist and doctor on the planet would likely say the same thing). And that was hard. I knew I was doing the right thing by trying to get her to the ER, but still, I felt very alone.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I realize now, I took a tremendous chance by not insisting I stay with her or taking her to the ER the day she told me, or the next day, or the day after that. And I feel guilty about that. She was incredibly unstable and that contract could have easily gone out the window in a heartbeat. It could so easily have ended differently… and this story could easily have had a much more tragic ending. Easily. And that scares the bejesus out of me. I’d never forgive myself if that had been the outcome. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And so I share this story, because it’s not just mine, or my friend’s.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s the story of far too many people every day. Statistically, 117 people commit suicide every single day. Over 42,000 people a year in the U.S! It’s the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. For every person who succeeds, 25 attempt suicide, like my friend did. While men are at higher risk, women are certainly not immune. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are some of the warning signs </span><a href="https://afsp.org/about-suicide/risk-factors-and-warning-signs/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://afsp.org/about-suicide/risk-factors-and-warning-signs/</span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you are worried about someone, here’s what you should do </span><a href="https://afsp.org/find-support/worried-about-someone/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://afsp.org/find-support/worried-about-someone/</span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How a safety plan can help and the suicide prevention lifeline</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/learn/safety.aspx" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/learn/safety.aspx</span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Please, if anyone shows signs that they may be at risk for or ever confides in you that they are considering suicide, don’t dismiss it. Don’t think you alone can help them. Know the warning signs. Help them to get the help they need. Don’t tell them not to feel the way they do, they can’t help it. Get them help. Immediately. It could literally save their life.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">September is suicide awareness month. I hope in sharing my story and that of my dear friend, your awareness of suicide signs and prevention is greater than it was. Reach out to someone who is struggling. No one needs to go through it alone. </span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img alt="SuicidePrevention-Teaser.jpg" height="308" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/AjaBbVCTgNQ4K3zrB7IDf__Axslvim9JEybAfE4XeRLSTkmyXDzH4kE0WgVQLi2ZgsMz4_bDBFcEQW3P79HcIspdhGbguYt1O5rCy3AEihxi50_wMx7za1e9FWIPrguulycfUyHp" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="615" /></span></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-20947797268628316692016-09-08T03:48:00.001-07:002016-09-08T03:50:19.107-07:00They can't soar unless you teach them how to use their wings. Perspective on dropping your "baby" off at college.Two weeks ago, I dropped my eldest son off at college. COLLEGE. Wasn't it just yesterday I was holding him in my arms as a newborn? Apparently not, as next week, he'll be 18. Time really does fly... Even if I like to tell myself I'm still only 28!<br />
<br />
College is a big deal. It's a big deal for the student. It's a big deal for the parents. Society seems to dictate it's a really big deal for mothers, who are expected to be a blubbering mess when they leave their "baby" at school and drive away. This seems especially expected when their kids are leaving the nest, living away from home, and far enough such that coming home on the weekends is not a viable option. <br />
<br />
I get it. It's a right of passage for many. A ritual of sorts, when our children step over that invisible threshold from child to adult. We no longer know where they are, who they are with, and what they are doing. That loss of control for many parents is frightening. I get it. We want them to succeed. We want them to have fun. We don't want them to do stupid things that get them kicked out of school or worse. We want them to survive and come home to us. And we all remember what WE did that first semester in college, right?<br />
<br />
After 2 weeks, it seems like by society's standards, I'm not nearly emotional enough about this. I have a theory... it's called perspective. Let me explain.<br />
<br />
I was surprised by the number of people who have asked if I was sad, both before he left and since. Did I cry? Is it going to be hard not to see him for 3 months? How am I doing without my eldest son? My "baby"? How am I doing now that it's been 2 weeks? Has it "hit" me yet? Am I sad yet?<br />
<br />
I was taken aback on move in day, when his roommate's mother asked me how I was doing as we were moving them in. I said, "Great! I'm looking forward to a quieter and cleaner house! I'm excited for him and this adventure." She looked at me like I had 6 heads and reported she'd been crying for days. This, as she not only unpacked his things, but wanted to organize his entire room and tell him where everything should go. Crying for days?! Yikes!<br />
<br />
My son chose an excellent school, 4.5 hours away. He won't be home until Thanksgiving. And then, it will be by train or plane because the traffic sucks to drive there from here, especially at holiday time and in the winter months. I knew this the day he started considering schools near NYC. Not a surprise. Over the summer, he worked full time, was gone on an amazing vacation for 2 full weeks on the other side of the world, and spent most evenings out with friends, so he was barely here the past few months anyway. It was good practice for letting go!<br />
<br />
Back at the dorm, I helped him unpack some of his things, but not all of them. I made a few suggestions. We were there about an hour or so in his dorm. We met his roommates and a few other students on his floor who came by to say hi. He was sort of getting antsy, and we had a long drive home. I pulled him out into the hallway to say good-bye. I gave him a hug, told him I loved him, was proud of him, to work hard - yet have fun, try new things, and to enjoy this adventure. Today was the first day of the rest of his life, he had his wings, it was up to him to fly. <br />
<br />
I admit, I got a little misty eyed. Yet it was not because of sadness. It was pride. It was love. It was the desperate hope in my heart that I had done the "right" things as his mother to teach him right from wrong, how to choose from a place of love and truth and not fear, to prepare him for the challenges of being a college student, an adult, to make decisions on his own and fully accept the consequences of those decisions. <br />
<br />
And we left him there and walked away. I was happy for him, not sad for me.<br />
<br />
In the car, my husband gave me "the look". He hugged me. He told me he was proud of our son and proud of me and how I parented him. He asked how I was. I told him I was ok. HE was the one that brought on the tears. He told me I did a good job raising him and teaching him what he needed to know for this journey. That I *was* a good mom. He reminded me my boy loved me. <br />
<br />
My mind immediately went to my failures as a mother. I failed to keep one of my children alive. She would never get this opportunity. I would never have this moment with her. It made this moment with my eldest that much more powerful for me. It helps me to appreciate the gift that this opportunity is for him and for me. I wasn't "losing" him. I was giving him the opportunity to fly.<br />
<br />
I told him the tears were really more about the fact the perceived "loss" of a child going off to college is so very different for a bereaved parent. Perhaps that is why I'm not as sad as everyone thinks I should be. I'm not losing him forever. He's just growing up. I want him to succeed, to grow, to learn, to make mistakes and learn from them, to become a better person, to be the change in the world. My tears were in part, those of pride, of hope, of love.<br />
<br />
If you've followed this blog, you know his sister Meghan died nearly 12 years ago, tragically and unexpectedly. She was a brief, but powerful influence in his life. They adored each other, even though she was only with us for 3 years. He wrote about her and the influence her death had on him for his college essays.<br />
<br />
My tears in the hallway of the dorm and in the car were those of a parent who really *knows* what loss is like. And that colored how I felt about "losing" my son to college. God willing, he'll come home at Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and spring break, and for the summer. He'll keep coming back to the nest as he passes each milestone in his life. He'll come back a changed young man. Yet he'll always be my son. <br />
<br />
He is not "gone", he's at school. He's doing something she'll never get the chance to do. That's bittersweet. It's powerful. It's a gift. For him and for me.<br />
<br />
I know what it's like to truly lose a child. It's hell and it's a hurt that never goes away. So going off to college is far less of a loss to a parent who knows true loss. The perspective that gives me, or any bereaved parent, impacts all other "losses" in your life. <br />
<br />
And I suspect, if she could say anything to her brother right now, it would be "Ky-ooooole. You listen to Meggie!" Hopefully she'd add something about doing your homework, being the best you can be, and calling your mother! I kinda hope she watches over him and steers him in the right direction. I hope he realizes the amazing gift and opportunity he's been given and makes the most of it.<br />
<br />
And Thanksgiving? Yeah. He'd damn well better plan on spending some time with his mother! <br />
<br />
Spread your wings and soar, proud and strong, like an eagle my son. Go forth, and change the world for the better!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja3VqqNzFJaxYmCPPlt1Fg3RPA8HMoZRav9Av8-kwIGXHzIST3wvlOVUNXtQnzoWrE49c1O9mdRG04_KFqVZtZD5crIdLTzwhAEYLG8UwQDKCQOU9sY8G1Xok8JQw_XZUwQfK1KfsSO7E/s1600/eagle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja3VqqNzFJaxYmCPPlt1Fg3RPA8HMoZRav9Av8-kwIGXHzIST3wvlOVUNXtQnzoWrE49c1O9mdRG04_KFqVZtZD5crIdLTzwhAEYLG8UwQDKCQOU9sY8G1Xok8JQw_XZUwQfK1KfsSO7E/s320/eagle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-40819248841556047852016-05-29T14:27:00.001-07:002016-05-29T14:27:14.328-07:00The day he moved into his twin sister's room... 11 years after she diedWell, that was harder than I thought it would be.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I began... no... continued, a journey. A journey of grief. Of love. Of emotional see-sawing. Yesterday, 11 years, 5 months, and 10 days after she died (yeah, we count sometimes), Meghan's twin brother moved into her room.<br />
<br />
His reasoning was practical. His room has only one window and has a northern exposure. There is very little natural light. His window is a casement window and he cannot place a fan in the window and we do not have central air, so his room is hotter in the summer and colder in the winter than the rest of the house. He wanted a change. <br />
<br />
Her room has a southern exposure. It has two windows and has a lot of natural light as well as a nice view of our backyard. The double hung window allows for a window fan or even a window A/C unit. The newness of it is exciting to him. I had offered for years that he could always switch rooms if he wanted to, but it was not until recently, he asked to do it. I had time this weekend, and so it began.<br />
<br />
I thought I was ready. I mean really. Meg's room has been unoccupied by Meg for over 11 years now. It's looked essentially the same for the past 10 years. The dresser that took her life still stood against the wall (now secured). Scrapbooking and jewelry making supplies filling many of the drawers and closet, neglected for years because I've been too busy with other endeavors. A basket of her favorite toys and stuffed animals still sat in the corner. Trinkets gifted to us and things she made sat on her dresser. The jammies she was wearing the day she died sat in the top drawer along with a scrapbook of their birthday, her baby book, and the photos from her funeral and wake. Pictures she drew or finger painted and photos of her hung on the walls. The little satin cross that said "sister" with the dried roses still on it from her casket still hung on the wall. It was still very much Meg's room, with a little bit of mommy's things taking up space. Yet it was not really a functional room. On occasion her brother would go in there and read or play on his tablet or phone, but other than very occasional times, her room was simply there. Holding the space for her memory, my grief.<br />
<br />
So I walked in and began with the closet. Then I began to empty the dresser to prepare for the room switch and moving the furniture. As I piled up the things or put them in boxes, I began to cry. This was going to be harder than I thought. But why? <br />
<br />
Because for the first and last time, Meg's room would be Meg's room, with Meg's things in it. As I gathered all her things and prepared to move everything out to bring her brother's things in, it occurred to me this was a milestone. The day I would no longer have Meg's room as a 'sanctuary'. The place I go on really rough days. The floor I lay on every year on December 18th, where she took her last breath. The place where "her" things were in "her" space. Now her room would become her brother's room. And although her things would still be in my possession, just in different rooms of the house, it would never be the same. <br />
<br />
The last bits of my daughter's personal space were no longer hers and hers alone. I know that sounds bizarre, but if you are a bereaved parent, you get it. If you are not, now, maybe you get it too. <br />
<br />
It was like saying good-bye all over again, but in a different way. And it hurts.<br />
<br />
The dresser. That God-damn dresser. Murderer! As I removed the items in the drawers, I remembered what used to be in them. Her clothes. Her diapers. Her 'pretties' for her hair on the top... How she loved to open the drawers and throw things out all over the floor until she found what she wanted to wear. I wondered what the hell she was doing that morning, as I have a gazillion times before. What was she trying to get? How the hell did she tip it over? Why didn't we hear it? Why? Why did it happen? Why to her? Why to me? Why? Why? Why? God-dammit, WHY?!<br />
<br />
*** deep breath *** <br />
<br />
and I moved on. I know better than to dwell where there are no answers. I'll never know the answers to those questions. Only she knows. It doesn't stop me from asking now and then, though.<br />
<br />
As I unattached the dresser from the wall, I had a little anxiety attack. A flashback of that God-awful morning. I opened the drawers. I ran my hand over the edge of the drawer that likely constricted her throat when she fell over it and the dresser fell on her. I wondered what she was thinking for those seconds she couldn't breathe before she lost consciousness. Was she scared? Did she see an angel? Did she think of me? I saw her face as I saw it when I ran in her room to my husband's screams... blue... lifeless... yet still beautiful. <br />
<br />
I slammed the drawers back in, the top one slid back open as if in defiance. I got angry. I thought I had the anger out at the dresser the day she died. Apparently not. Grief is funny like that. I sat on the floor in front of it and cried some more. I really wanted to kick it over...<br />
<br />
Another deep breath... I stood up. Ok, dresser that killed my daughter. You and I are going to do battle... Finally...<br />
<br />
I slid the moving discs underneath the legs. I pushed it across her floor. Myself. It's freaking heavy! I once again looked up to the Heavens and asked her, "How the hell did you do this?! This thing is HEAVY!" I fought with it pushing and pulling and readjusting to push it across the hall and into her brother's room without scratching the wood floor. It probably took me a half hour and a lot of internal cursing and a few tears. Mind you it was also 95 degrees and humid in the house at the time. I didn't care. I was going to win THIS battle come hell or high water. I needed to do it myself. I didn't want help. This was between me and the dresser.<br />
<br />
I did it. I got it where I wanted it. It was challenging, physically and emotionally. It doesn't look right in there. It doesn't belong in there. None of this is right. None of it. I was supposed to watch ALL my kids grow up and become amazing adults. ALL OF THEM. My heart hurts... It was exhausting emotionally, not physically. I didn't bargain for this today. Although I shouldn't be surprised. That's how grief works.<br />
<br />
Later in the day, it took over an hour and several of us to take apart his bed and move it into her room and reassemble it. The fan went in the window. He was happy. He hugged me and thanked me. This morning, he said he really likes his new room. He has a new comforter. He wants to pick out an area rug and shades/curtains. He doesn't know his head sleeps in the same place his sister took her last breath. EXACTLY the same space. But I do. It's bittersweet. <br />
<br />
Today I am continuing the journey. The bed is made up. I'm moving the smaller items, the clothes, the closet contents. I need to rearrange his room to be the "spare" room that holds his desk (too big to move and not enough wall space in his sister's room for it), his sister's dresser with her things which need to be placed back in the drawers, and the piles of stuff that were in the closet in her room and all the crafty items need to find a new home in his former room. Lots of vacuuming, dusting, rearranging, organizing. <br />
<br />
Part of me feels sad that this final step in holding the space Meg once lived in for Meg's memory/spirit has transpired. Of course I knew someday it would, and I'm thrilled her twin is comfortable sharing her space. It's a beautiful thing, really. Whether he's aware of it or not. <br />
<br />
I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to have that space be hers, mine, ours for the past 11+ years since her death. I know some people want to move from their home when their child dies, or others who have taken an ax to the furniture that fell on and killed their child, but that's not me. Although for a moment yesterday, I could have torn that dresser apart...<br />
<br />
It's just another speed bump on the journey as a bereaved parent. Her step-dad, who never parented her when she was alive, told me Meggie's things are of course always hers and I'd always have them, just in a different place. Which is true. He also reminded me, Meghan would say "Ry Ry did it!" about "stealing" her room and moving her stuff. She did always love to blame her twin for everything, and she'd gleefully say "Ry Ry did it!" whenever something was amiss. I smiled through the tears. Yes, yes she would love to blame Ry Ry for it. *giggle* I can still hear her say it if I close my eyes. Little pointy finger and disheveled hair and all.<br />
<br />
I miss her so damn much...<br />
<br />Secretly, I think she's thrilled. She finally got Ry Ry to come sleep in her room. She always preferred to sleep with him anyway... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGb7tlRFA9mQLx7lpRugz7N3hxMALugjbPNy_Q-nAXbsLB_tJUIWV-J0tsSoVrgfI61xelpeO0gho_gcTnBewc_zRrcWPH7EP3qSpZNQqT_GcLRcs_nW1sODnxNCJKxcwhyHmHWK6Tzp4/s1600/Ry+and+Meggie+Easter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGb7tlRFA9mQLx7lpRugz7N3hxMALugjbPNy_Q-nAXbsLB_tJUIWV-J0tsSoVrgfI61xelpeO0gho_gcTnBewc_zRrcWPH7EP3qSpZNQqT_GcLRcs_nW1sODnxNCJKxcwhyHmHWK6Tzp4/s320/Ry+and+Meggie+Easter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-18252873152577774222016-05-29T10:00:00.000-07:002016-05-29T10:00:52.348-07:00Adventures of a soccer mom: Tournament in Puerto Rico!<span><span>Another installment in adventures of a soccer mom. Written in Evernote and I forgot to transfer tomy blog until now. Information is still insightful to my fellow soccer parents though!</span></span><br />
<span><span><br /></span></span>
<span><span>Hello from 18,000 feet. It's January 27th, 2016. I am on my way to San Juan, Puerto Rico. Why? Glad you asked!</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>It's not exactly for a vacation. In fact I would not even be on this plane were it not for my 14 year old soccer playing son. It was not really in my budget or my plan to take a 6 day trip to a tropical climate in the middle of January. Although I must admit, I am definitely all for a break from winter in New England! I'm sure when I get there and get my toes in the sand, I will not mind the time, expense, and piling up of work that awaits me when I return, at least for a few days! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Don't be too jealous. The day at the beach will be literally a day. Two full days are lost to travel there and back, and two days are pretty much lost to a hot soccer field with a 5:30 am wake up call. The other day will be a transition day. Of course there will also be lots of eating. Growing boys... it's a real thing. Constant eating!</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>No, we are going to Puerto Rico for a soccer tournament, not for a vacation. The GPS Caribbean Showcase. He plays for the GPS U14 Central Ma Elite team. We are playing up one year in the U15 age bracket (eek!) I believe we are the only team from the United States playing in their age group. It will definitely be a challenge given the change from 30 degree temps to playing in the mid 80's with humidity and playing kids a year older, bigger, and used to the climate. I believe in addition to teams from Puerto Rico, we will play teams from Dominica, the Virgin Islands, and perhaps others. Oh, and we don't have a goalkeeper on this trip. That's concerning. Yikes! All the boys are saying "not it!"</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>The boys claim they are excited, but it's kinda hard to tell. They are hormonal, "cool", and presently much more interested in their electronic devices than anything soccer. Of course, kicking a soccer ball on a plane is frowned upon. I think, too, they are still a bit too young to truly understand the impact of being invited to and having the opportunity to actually play, in a tournament like this one. It's their first college showcase. College coaches will get their first glimpse at these boys, who are all in 8th grade. You'd think that's way too early to be thinking about college soccer, but after having gone through this with my older son, it's really not! That's frightening to mama. He's still my baby!!</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>This will be a combination of a day and a half of vacation at a beach resort and 3 days at the soccer hotel with the team. They will play 5-6 games over 2 days, thankfully all in the morning, so they will have the afternoon and evenings free to swim in the pool, hang out, and eat. Dear God these boys eat constantly! We will have a team dinner on Saturday evening. As they are missing 3 days of school, they also have homework with them to do and a midterm to study for. They are not pleased there will be no sleeping in on soccer mornings and bedtime will be before they are used to going to bed at home. Coach runs a tight ship. It's good practice for the rigors of collegiate play and a glimpse at what professional players do.<br />
<br />
It's a great team building and bonding experience and one that affords the kids a glimpse at a different culture, the chance to try new foods, and even give their rudimentary Spanish a whirl. My son is a fairly seasoned traveller, at least on domestic flights, and at 14, it's SO much easier than when the kids were little! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>As I gaze out the window, the sun is beginning to set. There are puffy white clouds below us taking on a pinkish hue, highlighting their tops and emphasizing the contours of the clouds. It's quite pretty. We're flying over land instead of over the water to Ft. Lauderdale, because of rough air. Our flight was also delayed a bit more than a half hour, which gives us precious little time to make our connection to Puerto Rico. The boys are mostly upset their dinner plans for FLL won't materialize. They stocked up on snacks just in case. My son has already eaten half of them. We have 5.5 more hours before we land in PR! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>I am grateful for this opportunity to travel with my son, see him experience a new and different level of competition, and watch him play. When given the choice to accompany him, I quickly cast aside concerns about cost and time because I know all too well how quickly he will fly from the nest. He's already very different than he was when we traveled to Barcelona 2 years ago for soccer. He's much less a child and much more a teenager. On that flight, he wanted to sit next to me, sleep on me, and talk to me. On this one, he made his friend sit between us, only talks to me if he needs something, and is wide awake. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>*sigh* Poor mama. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Addendum: The flights to PR were quite bumpy! We were delayed about 45 minutes leaving PR as well. Thankfully, because when the first flight landed, we had 4 minutes to make the departure of our next one (as in no way, since we were in the back 1/3 of the plane and they opened the door about the same time our flight to PR was to depart. We did quite literally walk off one plane and get right in the boarding line for the next one. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>We landed at 10:30 pm local time (11 pm for our body clocks), and were at the hotel around 11:30. The boys were hungry, but nothing was open, so we walked about a mile to a Denny's where we had a pretty greasy, not particularly tasty or good quality meal. I was amused by the fact it was 74 degrees and a waiter there was wearing a winter coat. A WINTER COAT! I get that it's winter for them, too, and it was probably 68 degrees in the Denny's with the AC on, but even *I* was comfortable in a sweater and jeans! While we were walking back, the boys heard the Coqui frogs "singing" and observed what happens when the local dive bar starts to empty out (as in drunk people literally falling out the door and off the sidewalk while music with offensive lyrics blared from the open door bar. They were amused, especially since a police officer stood across the street by a tree, astutely observing the goings on.</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>We did not fall into bed until about 1:30 am (2:30 to our bodies). So glad we were not playing soccer the next day!</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>February 1st</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Greetings once again from somewhere over the east coast. Looks to be North Carolina from up here. Our short soccer-cation is now coming to an end and it's back to reality. It was quite busy, and I really had no time (or reliable wifi when I did have a bit of time) to write. So here is the rest of the story...</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>I woke Thursday morning before everyone else and headed downstairs to explore the beach/pool area and try to get a run in. It was very humid, but windy, and partly cloudy. It was probably in the mid-upper 70's at 8 am. I went to the gym and hopped on a dreadmill. I hate the dreadmill (hence the term, dreadmill). I did a 30 min run-walk-run but even inside, it was miserable. I went upstairs and everyone rallied for breakfast (an all you can eat buffet), which we ate on an outside covered patio overlooking the beach and ocean. We then walked the beach and found a spot on the lounge chairs. The boys enjoyed body surfing in the ocean as the waves were quite large and the seas rough, with a significant undertoe. There was a red flag for conditions, but it was quite shallow. In the afternoon, we moved to the pool area, which was beautiful and offered 2 pools, 2 hot tubs, beautiful landscaping, and food/drink. We even saw several iguanas of all sizes sunning themselves and looking for lettuce treats. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>After a day in the sun, sand, surf, and pool, we had a "romantic" dinner with the boys on the same outdoor patio. My son had a steak and ate it in record time! One of the things he requested was a "fancy" dinner with steak. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Friday was much the same as Thursday, without the run for me and we did a more casual breakfast on the go, claimed out spot on the beach, and the boys used boogie boards. Several of their soccer friends and their families had seen our photos from the day before and joined us for the day at the beach. The boys had a blast together and the parents all very much enjoyed the tropical day filled sun, food, and drink. It was sure a different soccer bonding experience, not that we were complaining. We don't get to have this much fun for soccer tournaments at home! Especially in the winter!</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>That evening, we moved to our soccer hotel in Bayamon. We had an adventure that evening, trying to get across the street to a mall for dinner. What should have taken 10 minutes took something like 30 because there are no sidewalks and we couldn't figure out where the entrance to the mall was (it was inside the parking garage and we were on foot!). We ended up at Chili's. Yes, we came all the way to PR to eat at a restaurant we could eat at in our hometown. It was food and it sufficed. The boys had a meeting with their coach that evening and then it was off to bed. We had an early wake up call</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Saturday- Day 1 of the GPS Caribbean Showcase</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>We met in the lobby of the hotel at 6:30 am local time. That means we got up at 5 am EST. See why we needed those days at the beach for the moms?! THIS is what soccer tournaments are like, no matter where they are. Early wake up calls, long days at a soccer field, unknown weather/food conditions and a mystery as to the level of competition we would face. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>The boys had a quick continental breakfast (at least they ate and drank) and got on the bus for 7 am. We got the next bus. The fields were about 15-20 min drive away. Being an away team (VERY far away), we did not have our usual chairs, umbrellas, blankets, coolers, etc and they were somewhat missed. There were bleachers, which was nice, but precious little shade, and of course, the fields were in full sun. It rained on and off during their first and second games, but the boys appreciated it since it was quite warm and very humid. It didn't take much to get them hot and needing a cool down. They played two very hard fought games and unfortunately lost both. The first game was lost only by 1 goal and it could have gone either way. The teams were well matched (USVI team) and the boys showed good sportsmanship to their opponents on both sides. The second game was more challenging. Our boys were struggling adjusting to the heat, were probalby all a bit dehydrated (heck we were, and we weren't running in the sun), and have not played an 11 v 11 regulation game since November. They lost. I believe the score was 5-0. It was against the home team and those boys were quite good and of course, not facing the challenges ours were. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>We went out for lunch to the Olive Garden to carb up for the boys and they ate like you read about! Then it was back to the hotel for some down time, showers, and preparing for our team dinner. We ate at a local restaurant in a function room. Between island time and the fact they were really not accustomed to serving large groups, it took freaking forever. Our reservation was at 6:30, we left around 10:30! The boys were tired and wanted to go to bed. Their curfew was 10 pm, but their coach was with us, so he waived it until they got back to the hotel. :-) </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Once back, everyone was asleep in record time.</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Sunday</span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Once again, a 5 am EST wake up call for a 7 am bus departure. This day, the parent bus never came! Our boys had one game at 8 am. At 8:40, we realized we wouldn't make the game so the parents who had rented cars rallied and drove everyone to the field. We arrived just as play began! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Today there was no rain, and it was HOT, even at 8 am. I was sweating standing still from the humidity. They played hard against a team from the Dominican. They dug deep to come from behind and win 4-3. Another really great game by 2 well-matched teams. The boys were thrilled with a win, as were the parents, and especially a few dads who are now hoarse from their yelling. :-) </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Speaking of yelling, I can't help but wonder why anyone who screams at their kid, or in general, can possibly think that helps them. Especially when it's things like "get to the ball", "you need to get a foot on it", "you have to beat them to the ball" and so forth. The kids *know* what they are supposed to do. They *know* when they do something wrong or make the wrong decision. They don't need the distraction or stress of a parent yelling at them, to them, or just yelling in general, especially if it's not simply applause for a job well done. As I was explaining this to a dad who was next to me expressing his frustration with the way the boys were playing, I gently reminded him they were at a disadvantage being in this heat, not having played together on a field this big in 2 months, they were all growing and their bodies and center of gravity was changing, and that distracting them with noise and negative comments does nothing to boost their morale when they are already struggling and know they are not performing the way they need to. I aslo pointed out, my job was to be supportive and enjoy what my son did, whatever it was. I had no business telling him how to play soccer and unless I could get out there and play at this level, I shouldn't be telling him what he should and shouldn't do and personally, I wish all parents thought that way. He did not yell again, but was supportive with his vocalization after that point. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>We were very proud of them for how they behaved and played, bonding more as a team and displaying wonderful sportsmanship. They "borrowed" a goalkeeper from the GPS PR team for all of their games. We sure as heck needed him as our GK was unable to make the trip. He was fantastic and the boys were so grateful to him and included him in their team photos, high-fives, and he also got a rousing round of applause from the parents for his contribution to the team. The coach got a showcase T-shirt and all the boys signed it and gave it to him as a keepsake of their thanks. Such a sweet gesture of sportsmanship and appreciation. He looked thrilled. It makes me wonder if he's ever seen or experienced anything like it in his culture. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>After the photos, everyone went their separate ways. My son was very cranky (hot, hungry, and dehydrated) and once I got enough food and drink into him, he perked up. Our travelling companions arranged for us to tour Old San Juan with her mom, who lives in PR. She drives a beat up, old, barely working jeep style car and it was certainly an adventure. No AC, missing seatbelts, and her driving was... adventurous! Still, we were grateful to her for her hospitality and for driving us around. On the way to Old San Juan we stopped a little beach/reef where the boys did some snorkeling. There was not a tremendous need for a snorkel since you could just stand in the water knee deep and see all sorts of colorful tropical fish swim by! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>After our little beach diversion, we drove and walked the narrow, cobblestoned hilly streets of Old San Juan. We had lunch at an old convent turned hotel and restaurant, which was lovely. We checked out shops and observed the culture and took in the sights. There were old forts and beautiful scenic vistas. The architecture was very similar to what you'd see in New Orleans with the colorful buildings, balconies and railings of wrought iron and plants decorating them, and the narrow, quaint roadways. Rumor is New Orleans was modeled on Old San Juan, at least as far as architecture goes. I was thrilled to find a lovely pendant of larimar in a little shop. It was SO much less expensive than the larimar necklace and earrings I got in Jamaica at a cruise port (although that was very beautiful as well), but this is a much larger piece for WAY less than what I paid for the former set! Lesson learned! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>After our sightseeing tour, we returned to our hotel to shower, pack, and chill. We were exhausted. We ended up ordering Dominoes pizza for dinner and we all went to bed early, the last one being my son at 9:30 against his preference, but he was asleep quickly once the lights were out and the TV off. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>And that brings us to today. I am now somehwere around Long Island. We were up at 3 am EST today to get to the airport on time. Our flights were on time and the weather much better. Very few bumps today and both arrivals on time. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>My mind is now starting to realize all the things I must do to settle back into the reality of day to day. And how much of it needs to happen between now and when I get to bed tonight. I anticipate being home about 3:45 pm and being in bed by 8 pm! </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>As I reflect on these past 5 days, I am grateful not only for the opportunity for my son to play the sport that is his passion with friends old and new, but for the time I got to spend with him experiencing PR. He was often distant and grumpy, as teen boys can be, but when he was not with his friends, he was more the mama's boy I know. He's spent quite a bit of time these last 2 flights playing with my hair and sleeping on my shoulder. He still has no true concept of how lucky he is to have these opportunities and I'm not sure how to convey it. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>I'm also grateful for getting to know my fellow soccer moms and dads better and for the ease and grace of our traveling companions who we shared rooms, taxis, and all other sorts of things with. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>Of course, I am grateful for the brief "vacation" to a warmer climate, two days at the beach/pool, and a break from the day to day. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
<span><span>That said, I look forward to seeing my husband and older son, sleeping in my own bed with my cats at my feet, and returning the normal family chaos that is the life of a mom of teen boys. </span></span><br />
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
Until next time...
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-17994576976866392852015-12-22T03:04:00.002-08:002015-12-22T03:05:06.377-08:00Understanding the importance of anchoring furniture in pictures and a song<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">So often, people ask me how they can get so and so to understand the importance of anchoring their furniture and TV's. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Even after explaining the statistics which you can find at </span><a data-cke-saved-href="http://www.anchorit.gov/" href="http://www.anchorit.gov/" style="background-color: white; color: #ea5aa5; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">anchorit.gov</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> and sharing my daughter's story, as I did in a blog post a few years ago, I called </span><a data-cke-saved-href="http://lovelightlaughterandchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/be-with-me-just-for-today.html" href="http://lovelightlaughterandchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/be-with-me-just-for-today.html" style="background-color: white; color: #ea5aa5; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Be With Me, Just for Today</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">. Far too many people, once they learn of the dangers of furniture and TV tip-over, convince themselves their children are not at risk. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Common excuses include, "I'm always with my child", "My child is not a climber", "My child knows not to do that", "My furniture is too heavy to tip", "I don't want to (or can't) put holes in the walls or my furniture", "I don't have the right tools", "It's too expensive", "It takes too much time", "My (husband, parents, etc.) won't let me or doesn't think it's necessary", "It's not likely to happen, so why spend the money?", or, "We have expensive, good furniture, it's safe." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #6d6d6d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Some people are not compelled by statistics or words or even someone else's heart-wrenching story. Perhaps they are more visual. Sometimes, pictures have a greater impact. Some people are moved by music, not words or pictures. I ask you to take 3 minutes to watch. Then, perhaps you will share it with anyone who still does not understand the importance of anchoring furniture and TV's. Who doesn't fully grasp the potential consequences. Who thinks it only happens to "someone else". I am that someone else. You or they could just as easily be that someone else. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy4WQkT9Z-bKTdZKYGbPdGP9bmjsnadrbRKNskoXWm7OgM31lrluRjJcIcPBuwjG_Y7tNsgw7562t35mEbDrw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">This was my reality 11 years ago today. A day I will never forget. A day that makes the Christmas season incredibly difficult every year. The song is called "Visitor from Heaven" by Twila Paris. It's beautiful. The pictures tell a love story. Heavily punctuated with why it's so important to anchor your furniture and TV's. So you never have to tell </span><em style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; position: relative;">this</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> kind of a love story.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Please, anchor it. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Thank you.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6d6d6d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Meggie's mom</span>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-58512044678446891022015-09-16T15:07:00.002-07:002015-09-16T15:38:08.018-07:00A moment in timeYou know how sometimes, you start to think about the deeper meaning of a certain event in your life, and suddenly, you are taken down an emotional path you didn't expect? <br />
<br />
Today is one of those days. <br />
<br />
It began by waking my son and wishing him a happy birthday. A fairly routine event in all of our lives. Celebrating the birthdays of those close to us. For parents, sometimes those birthdays carry a lot of emotion for one reason or another. First birthdays for example. Or, milestone birthdays like sweet 16 or turning 21. <br />
<br />
Yet today, it got me. It's not really a milestone birthday, but then again, it is. He is my eldest child. Seventeen years ago today, he made me a mom. SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO. How is that possible? I'm still 28! Forget the fact I was actually 29 when he was born...<br />
<br />
No, seriously. How is it possible that 17 years have already flown by from the day he was born? Everyone always says, "Enjoy them, they grow up so fast!" It's so true! There were many days when he was younger, I couldn't wait for him to get older. There were equally as many days I wished I could somehow savor where he was and slowed down the whole growing up thing. <br />
<br />
So why am I so emotional? Well, aside from the obvious that my baby is growing up? It's really a lot deeper than that. He is one year away from official adulthood. He is a senior in high school. Even though he still enjoys birthday streamers on his door, he's really no longer a child. He's a young adult. Aside from the fact he's driving and starting to blossom into a more independent young man, it hit me he'll be graduating next spring. GRADUATING. That means he'll be leaving the nest. He'll be going off to college. I won't see him every day. I won't have any control over what he does, who he spends his time with, or where he goes. I may not hear from him for days or weeks at a time. He's going to leave his mama!<br />
<br />
That scares the bejesus out of me!<br />
<br />
It's already begun... kind of like training wheels for both of us I suppose.<br />
<br />
I know it's as much about letting go for me as it is about learning to be independent for him. I get it. I just don't like it. <br />
<br />
After some thought, I realized that today, it's the anticipatory grief of letting him go. Even though rationally, I know this is how development works. But I've already lost a child. For real. To an accidental and preventable death. My greatest fear is losing another one, be it literally or figuratively. Statistics tell me that's not likely (they also told me Meghan's death was not likely) and statistics also tell me that these next few years are fraught with opportunities for stupid choices on his part or those of whom he spends his time with, and that one lapse in judgement, one moment of peer pressure, and... well, it can rob an anxious mama of her sleep for years to come!<br />
<br />
I know I will need to let go and hope and pray I've raised him to do the right things in life. I have to hope he will embrace the challenges that lay ahead of him and rise to the occasion to take the reins of life and make good, healthy choices. I've taught him how to use his wings properly, it's up to him to fly. I hope he can say, "No." I have to hope he finds happiness and success and that learns from his mistakes without serious life long consequences. I have to hope he will learn to fly without my constant reminders, nagging, and support. I hope he'll want to learn to fly. Hell, I hope he'll remember to eat since he's too damn lazy to make himself anything!<br />
<br />
It's more than that, though. <br />
<br />
It's also a day that makes me look back 17 years to who I was then, and who I've become today, in large part, thanks to him and his brother and sister. Becoming a parent changes you forever. No one and nothing can prepare you for that. He was a very challenging child on many levels. He still is at times. He taught me as much as I taught him, maybe more. <br />
<br />
I am most definitely not the same person I was this day seventeen years ago. I am most definitely not the person I thought I'd be as he embarks on his senior year in high school. My life is really not at all what I imagined it would be the day he was born. Is anyone's? <br />
<br />
A lot can happen in 17 years. I can't help but think about all he's seen and been through in his 17 years. All we've been through together. The birth of twin siblings when he was 3. He lost his beloved sister when he was merely 6 years old. For a time, he even blamed himself, thinking he should have somehow been able to save her. He really struggled with her loss, and still does today. He has learned a lot about grief and emotion, life, love, and death, and the importance of grief keeping, sharing, and honoring life and death. He is a wise old soul. I wonder what his life's purpose is. I wonder where his path will lead him...<br />
<br />
It is worth mentioning, today is also a trigger day for me. Yes it's HIS birthday, but I can't help but wonder what his relationship with is sister would be like today. It is a day that she should be here, celebrating with us, but she is not. It makes my heart ache for all of us. What she would want to do to celebrate her big brother and his bird day (yes, bird day)? I'm pretty sure she'd make it special. It makes me so sad that she's not here to celebrate with us. To celebrate him. It makes days like this very bittersweet for me. I am often on the verge of tears and irritable for much of the day, all while trying to go about my day and make it be all about him, as it should be. Well, I DID give birth to him, and that was no picnic! So I should get a little shout out! :-) <br />
<br />
That's just how grief manifests sometimes. When you don't always expect it to.<br />
<br />
He is also a child of divorce, and has 2 step-parents. That was obviously not what I expected to be the state of our family 17 years ago. He's already been in 2 weddings, ours! He has a fantastic relationship with his step-dad, less so with his step-mother. He has a large extended family and step-family. I know he loves his mama! Even if it's mostly because I feed him. He is the big brother, and is learning to balance that role as a positive role model/mentor role and the obligatory teasing and sibling rivalry that brothers share. He's been to more wakes and funerals and weddings than most kids his age. He's had a lot of loss in his life. Then again, he's also had a lot of love and learned how to cope with all of these things, and he now has an empathy and compassion far beyond most boys his age as a result. He is fantastic with younger children, too. The girls think he's all that. He is a handsome fella...<br />
<br />
Then there is the history that he's witnessed and the state of the world today, not to mention what he and all of our children will inherit in the years to come... It makes a mama's heart ache for her son's future. All I want is for him to be happy, healthy, and safe.<br />
<br />
He's also had a lot of wonderful experiences, lots of love and joy, the opportunity to travel, and an abundance of silliness! Because that's how we roll. He's learned, hopefully, that there is something to learn from everything that happens in our lives, good and bad. We always have choices and all choices have consequences, be they good or bad. No one does anything to us. We choose what we do and how we react. We control how we feel, no one else does. Ever.<br />
<br />
So yeah, 17 years ago today, I woke with cramps. The cat insisted on sitting on my big belly and kneading away. You know, to distract me... He was 5 days "late". I shouldn't be surprised timeliness is not his strong suit these days. I wandered around the house, restless, for a few hours. I remember believing it was actually labor around 10:30 am. Fast forward several hours and at 7:42 pm, I held my newborn son in my arms and my life was forever changed. My heart understanding what unconditional love was for the very first time. I had no idea what was in store for us, but I wouldn't change it for the world. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoy6aCscmL_Hiqpj1cSAEWUusRzQlnQNblAedWj0WjhlE2R9P5ji3222AKxv2z9tX23D3RR4t006EeaZRNWctoPDFsfQLvspjg-5pm-sJ_HyxcpIHDfrcVXPGYG83oQwIA-SRn2Z0zkbA/s1600/boy+who+stole+my+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoy6aCscmL_Hiqpj1cSAEWUusRzQlnQNblAedWj0WjhlE2R9P5ji3222AKxv2z9tX23D3RR4t006EeaZRNWctoPDFsfQLvspjg-5pm-sJ_HyxcpIHDfrcVXPGYG83oQwIA-SRn2Z0zkbA/s320/boy+who+stole+my+heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Happy birth day to my Kyle. You are loved more than you can imagine. You have taught your mama more than you can ever know, and I suspect you will continue to do so throughout your life. You quite literally changed the course of mine. I love your wit, your humor, your silliness, and your perspective. I wish when you blow out those candles, all your dreams come true.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkDtyD_S6MM7q3Nml2z9OAUJnCTDmGr2k9IeDUGxqhoWZ5xtEE7ewRzL8akhNln41k9O1cXZwBOF84KbR2panP4bbw9enI6m-6tXreOqPpdeIXYUGaAucVFzCmM_1d65w9D5yVTLhDes/s1600/pooh+braver+than+you+think.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkDtyD_S6MM7q3Nml2z9OAUJnCTDmGr2k9IeDUGxqhoWZ5xtEE7ewRzL8akhNln41k9O1cXZwBOF84KbR2panP4bbw9enI6m-6tXreOqPpdeIXYUGaAucVFzCmM_1d65w9D5yVTLhDes/s320/pooh+braver+than+you+think.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-72370226447216721072015-08-02T13:28:00.002-07:002015-09-16T15:09:36.313-07:00What does it take to be a safety superhero? <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<o:p>Did you ever wonder what it was like to be a superhero? Or what it's like to have a superpower?</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<o:p>Did you ever wonder what it takes to be a superhero? Are they born that way? Do they choose to be a hero? Does someone else bestow the title on them based on merit of some kind? </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I have just had the honor of attending and presenting at
the Safe Kids Worldwide Injury Prevention Conference, otherwise known as
PREVCON, at the Gaylord National Resort and Conference Center in Washington,
DC. Their theme is “Where safety heroes
meet.” All of their marketing materials
had a comic book feel to them with the theme of safety hero carried throughout
the conference. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3FzwDdF6bvgXNhXSOPP06R6ynQ-kpuc55Nop2kSNa4a-TApUvsFjDtTHvngRxCpDxD10MMfEv3P6PNiTB49giC-h8u43QkPoLjugor2rT5Fr5_OtJygX8uz9LV6gF3P4QXekr8RgP_0/s1600/safe+kids+prevcon.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3FzwDdF6bvgXNhXSOPP06R6ynQ-kpuc55Nop2kSNa4a-TApUvsFjDtTHvngRxCpDxD10MMfEv3P6PNiTB49giC-h8u43QkPoLjugor2rT5Fr5_OtJygX8uz9LV6gF3P4QXekr8RgP_0/s320/safe+kids+prevcon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I’ve been familiar with Safe Kids for some time. I was unaware of how the organization really
worked and how far reaching their programs and initiatives are, how involved
they are, and just how passionate their members are about preventing childhood
injury and death. These people eat,
sleep, breathe and work tirelessly to keep YOUR kids and grandkids safer. I spent the past 3 days with my kind of “people.” There were 500 safety geeks, all enthusiastically
sharing ideas, experiences, and brainstorming ways to keep kids safer. They came quite literally from all over the world to do so!</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
First, you should know, that preventable accidents are
the #1 cause of injury and death to children in the U.S. and around the
world. Over a million children every year die from a preventable accident worldwide. This is why we are all so
passionate about education and prevention.
I heard over and over and over how everyone will work tirelessly until
those numbers all reach zero. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I thought you might like to know what happens when safety geeks gather, so here's a sneak peek. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I arrived on Wednesday.
When I picked up my registration packet, there was a Safe Kids reusable
bag with all sorts of literature and swag in it from Safe Kids and their
sponsors and partners. All child safety
related, of course. I checked into my
room and went through my swag. When I
pulled out the Sanus TV strap, given to every registrant, I smiled and tears
filled my eyes. THANK YOU SANUS! Best.
Swag. Ever. You can bet I told them so when I saw them in
the exhibit hall the next day! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUQEmU7757FIXnAFV5Vcj9iBoN1d70s3raqm3Pa_Lx176vYn9v68hYAUwrmvPJCvMIOhF0MON7hwjpUEqZyeIj1Oj7rbEFygfGWfHUPu4a2VFjm-_iUNGINsS9YrRDkj9s3g2Vak4c0s/s1600/prevcon+best+swag+ever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUQEmU7757FIXnAFV5Vcj9iBoN1d70s3raqm3Pa_Lx176vYn9v68hYAUwrmvPJCvMIOhF0MON7hwjpUEqZyeIj1Oj7rbEFygfGWfHUPu4a2VFjm-_iUNGINsS9YrRDkj9s3g2Vak4c0s/s320/prevcon+best+swag+ever.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The next thing I did, which I do in every hotel, is check
to see if the dresser or TV is secured.
They were not. Disappointing but
not surprising. The flat screen had a wide base, but I was able to pretty
easily cause it to tip forward. We have
a lot of work to do…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
At 3 pm, I met with a representative from Nationwide
Insurance, whom I have partnered with on their Make Safe Happen campaign. We talked about the campaign, safety, and
ideas for the future. I also had the
chance to talk with the other marketing reps in the exhibit hall. All who enthusiastically thanked me for my
willingness to share my story and participate in their program. We all said good-bye with a hug. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
That evening, we were bused to Capitol Hill for a reception at a U. S. House of
Representatives building in the Canon Caucus Room. There, safety heroes had the opportunity not
only to connect and network with each other, but to mingle with some of our U.S. House and Senate members and their staff.
Safe Kids works hard to legislate changes in laws to keep kids
safer. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Two Champion in Child Safety
awards were given. One was given to
Senator Sherrod Brown of Ohio, for his work and support of legislation to
prevent SIDS as well as his work on other consumer safety issues.
The other award was given to the First Lady of Georgia, Sandra Deal, for
her work on heat stroke prevention and other child safety issues. I had the opportunity to meet her before her
award was presented. We had a nice chat in
the buffet line during which she asked about Meghan’s Hope (my name tag had the name of your organization and where you were from). I told her the story and what I did to raise
awareness. During her acceptance speech,
she happened to mention she talked to someone here who lost her daughter to a
furniture tip-over and how these preventable accidents should not be happening. I did not tear up telling her my story, but I
did hearing her mention it. It’s odd how
that happens. Grief is funny that way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Thursday, the conference began. It was two full days of information packed
plenaries and breakout sessions, poster presentations, and fantastic exhibitors
with innovative child safety products, with a good dose of fun and
socialization and networking built in. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBRakt4u6ndU7Zwq5bPf2oEWZ0tvy_KQsZcudFzbz3W3PQhXUUV3up2c6UBt6tbOdp9ZnZ0liFkVtaHmMtW78HDcTwYk8nTaZU4v49UIPkF0sM2vgebGbPhW10Xm3flnULOwTSBdGyLo/s1600/safe+kids+prevcon+opening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBRakt4u6ndU7Zwq5bPf2oEWZ0tvy_KQsZcudFzbz3W3PQhXUUV3up2c6UBt6tbOdp9ZnZ0liFkVtaHmMtW78HDcTwYk8nTaZU4v49UIPkF0sM2vgebGbPhW10Xm3flnULOwTSBdGyLo/s320/safe+kids+prevcon+opening.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
From 7 am to 5:30 pm both days, I attended sessions, visited
the exhibit hall, networked, and made amazing connections, including with SANUS, CEA, Dorel (Safety 1st), and JPMA as well as the Massachusetts Safe Kids Coalition leader. I learned so much that I didn’t know, and had the
opportunity to educate others, too. Topics that day covered a wide variety of safety subjects including pedestrian safety, sports safety,
bike and ATV safety, car seat safety, product
and toy safety, fundraising, planning safety events, safe sleep, advocacy, and
research, and that was just the morning! </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The lunch plenary was a conversation with Dana Points,
Editor in Chief of <i>Parents</i> Magazine and she provided amazing insights to our
target audience, which is of course, parents of young children. The afternoon sessions included keeping kids
safe in and around cars, communication resources, fire and burn safety, impacts
of legal marijuana, forming corporate partnerships, as well as another plenary on sports
safety. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
That evening was unscheduled, so I took some time to walk around the harbor and sit and quietly watch the sun set as the sky changed colors. I even saw a few heart clouds!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pmPu66rKgp3OMkanOPz9R3lTU4u73LUNpjB0QTiXQW1qyk6U11ezvsdX4eLM0x05HBecPQ0n9yiUHkkT1a6XCkDqm1GOVQqtVktl4x47klJdM8I-JiJceTyB8doqpUBs0sCIjEKK1lU/s1600/faint+pink+cloud+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pmPu66rKgp3OMkanOPz9R3lTU4u73LUNpjB0QTiXQW1qyk6U11ezvsdX4eLM0x05HBecPQ0n9yiUHkkT1a6XCkDqm1GOVQqtVktl4x47klJdM8I-JiJceTyB8doqpUBs0sCIjEKK1lU/s320/faint+pink+cloud+heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGpg6HX9gGpZHRAnLA91PjLikHwQlPXh263WR5wJEK3dVwYN2WoenIMmv4vdAZsUo-h8oNahcgALngzATwK5j-6UvReEA-KP1hg69aoQMLmU3kQnMVTPq5xhexxByEyar4vVxIBWA920/s1600/sunset+heart+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGpg6HX9gGpZHRAnLA91PjLikHwQlPXh263WR5wJEK3dVwYN2WoenIMmv4vdAZsUo-h8oNahcgALngzATwK5j-6UvReEA-KP1hg69aoQMLmU3kQnMVTPq5xhexxByEyar4vVxIBWA920/s320/sunset+heart+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Friday brought another amazing but long and information packed day. The morning plenary was a conversation with
National Leaders including the Administrator of the National Highway Traffic
Safety Administration, the Director of Injury Prevention and Control at the
CDC, and The Chairman of the Consumer Product Safety Commission. It was
an insightful glimpse into the work that our government agencies do and the
challenges they face in their role in keeping kids safer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4VwWC8Oe2UQe5DhKVlyMlUOo-kH4jYFP0XDHlirgaN3ii_yh_fAPOFSzssd-VvyvbDsGXuItt6FYNyqTC_tX2DkTtX2Tg9YnmYMixtyO9GlC2eekGCt_UIlJyLhIX3JQvvw2Te27flc/s1600/prevcon+federal+plenary+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4VwWC8Oe2UQe5DhKVlyMlUOo-kH4jYFP0XDHlirgaN3ii_yh_fAPOFSzssd-VvyvbDsGXuItt6FYNyqTC_tX2DkTtX2Tg9YnmYMixtyO9GlC2eekGCt_UIlJyLhIX3JQvvw2Te27flc/s320/prevcon+federal+plenary+photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I waited after that session to have a chance to speak to
the Chair of the CPSC. The Communications Director was also there, who I have corresponded with in the
past, and as I began to introduce myself to him, he made it clear he already knew
who I was, and greeted me with a hug, as did the Chairman when he was
free. I was touched they not only
recognized who I was, but took the time to talk with me and brainstorm for a
few minutes about what else we could do, together, to make furniture safer for
kids. They thanked me for my courage
and willingness to share my story in the way I do. ( I have more to say later on the topic of
courage)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Immediately following, there was a press conference
outside on the dangers of leaving kids in hot cars. It was National Heatstroke Awareness
Day. I attended the press conference
where several speakers including Safe Kids CEO and President Kate Carr and the
NHTSA Administrator, addressed the issue of kids being accidentally left in
cars and succumbing to heatstroke and how it can be prevented. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A dad who lost his daughter to heat stroke
when he was out of his routine and forgot to drop her off at daycare after a
doctor’s appointment shared his story.
Then, they did a re-enactment of a rescue of a child from a hot car by playing
an actual 911 call from a bystander at a shopping center and having the fire
and EMS actually respond and demonstrate how they get a child out of the car
and whisk them away to the hospital.
They did not actually break the car window (a new car was provided by a
dealership for the demo) but made it clear if the doors are locked, they break
a window to gain access as fast as possible.
All I could think of while watching it, was how huge of a trigger that
must have been for that father, and I sure as heck hope someone warned him it
was going to happen! I wanted to talk to
him afterwards, but he was mobbed by the media.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The rest of the day included sessions on booster seat
safety, medication safety, sports policy, new ideas for injury prevention,
drowning prevention, road safety, home visits and home safety, social media,
safety for kids with special needs, and innovative injury prevention and
partnerships (this was the session I presented at).<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyrZjiMbop9gzaluivO08xTrMOp9d3i9saduB3JYaMCSx-HrS_MasFeXHILIS9Lu4UHwExccm2yL5GJlAgai4qsTigP8gWw3DuTxRBJBTJzCfsLnfa7AwF9AL4UQFYQ3TU9hl-39Zaac/s1600/my+session+Prevcon+description.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyrZjiMbop9gzaluivO08xTrMOp9d3i9saduB3JYaMCSx-HrS_MasFeXHILIS9Lu4UHwExccm2yL5GJlAgai4qsTigP8gWw3DuTxRBJBTJzCfsLnfa7AwF9AL4UQFYQ3TU9hl-39Zaac/s320/my+session+Prevcon+description.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
For the session I presented at, I was one of 4
speakers. I only had about 15 minutes,
so I briefly educated the attendees about the way I teach, by presenting to
them in the same way. Which is with
compassion, from the heart, with raw emotion, a dose of humor, and a harsh dose
of reality. Honestly, it's the only way I know how. It's just my personality! I told Meghan’s story, I
explained how I teach, what I teach, and what the challenges are, including the
creative ways I’ve discovered to engage parents and get them to take action to
prevent tip-overs. I explained the
benefit of partnerships and how hard it is to do all of this as a grassroots one woman
organization. I asked for their help, and many offered support.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbmeav3Tqir3j2RO1dEfigAJcCHbafhKNiro6DKcWSAWMu_na9W91Ho9eNvvFddP7Y1cHgRmXqNboId9KlUkAWEx7bttDXzFL8ww_I7q6l-4xOYLki2H0k8F4E8mTLvYuBQsOpOT8280/s1600/Prevcon%252C+my+session.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbmeav3Tqir3j2RO1dEfigAJcCHbafhKNiro6DKcWSAWMu_na9W91Ho9eNvvFddP7Y1cHgRmXqNboId9KlUkAWEx7bttDXzFL8ww_I7q6l-4xOYLki2H0k8F4E8mTLvYuBQsOpOT8280/s320/Prevcon%252C+my+session.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I did not get through all my slides, nor did I expect to
(that was part of the humor), but they will have them for reference. I was touched that when I showed her photo,
there was a collective “awwww” from the audience (she was awfully cute!), and
when I showed her dresser, a few audible gasps.
The energy in the room was palpable in how it shifted just in the first
two slides. They were engaged. They laughed with me. They almost cried when I almost cried. They applauded enthusiastically when I
finished. I received many questions at
the end, more about how I do it, tips for encouraging other families to share
their stories, and a few about the grief process and how they can help other
parents in similar situations. Others
simply approached me to thank me, after the presentation and throughout the afternoon
as they saw me at the other sessions. I guess it went okay...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
From there it was the Safe Kids Awards luncheon, where I
sat by invitation, with the moderator of my session and the Assistant Director
of the Children’s Safety Network. We had
a lovely conversation and she provided some great ideas and resources for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The afternoon sessions included how to launch a campaign,
establish a peer to peer program for youth road safety, ways to extend your
reach, and working in multilingual communities.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
That evening there was a fun BBQ on the pier event (the
hotel is on the Potomac at the National Harbor). There was great food, dancing, and conversation and Mother Nature provided a lovely sunset once again. In fact, I sat with a woman from New Orleans
and we had an amazing two hour conversation that began about safety but evolved
into talking about death and dying in children and in general and how to help
parents cope with impending and eventual death of their child, as she works in
palliative care in a children’s hospital.
We could have talked all night!
It never ceases to amaze me how the Universe put me next to all the right
people at the right time, whether I had something to offer them, they do me, or
us to each other. Absolutely amazing! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Oh, and just so you know, I just happened to look out the
window here at the hotel as I am typing, and there was a heart cloud. Made me cry.
I’ve gotten a lot of love from above in the form of hearts the past few
days. It’s as if Meggie is saying I am
in the right place and she approves. And
those words just made me cry harder. You
know, underneath all this, I’m still a bereaved parent…<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQvPcbX2iPMeikDokbe-7FuH8B0knLGIHfpaGdlbF_bIQmoVHPAxhjZPw979c8pDYv_ewsn9ExaLjRpQEI857_F0ok5OTD_Fgy8GqbwVFYzJWDozXmVsKsMG0M_KxBXwqgRmLtM1oX74/s1600/Prevcon+heart+last+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQvPcbX2iPMeikDokbe-7FuH8B0knLGIHfpaGdlbF_bIQmoVHPAxhjZPw979c8pDYv_ewsn9ExaLjRpQEI857_F0ok5OTD_Fgy8GqbwVFYzJWDozXmVsKsMG0M_KxBXwqgRmLtM1oX74/s320/Prevcon+heart+last+day.jpg" width="178" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So, back to what makes a superhero? Well, I guess I should be more specific. What makes a safety hero? <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJj0-xeTXk_6rCC-Z9aDijuNic5NjpLt2lTUkqqtvkPzUGBoaHM2PjdBX_NdVjy52lfvOI-eIsDTZYOeIWftz3xDRlXRPXb3lOUb0PWgzOmLAq_1hPVFDbctrp3HORr_41ccMw8KCxCgs/s1600/safety-heroes+cartoon+pic.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJj0-xeTXk_6rCC-Z9aDijuNic5NjpLt2lTUkqqtvkPzUGBoaHM2PjdBX_NdVjy52lfvOI-eIsDTZYOeIWftz3xDRlXRPXb3lOUb0PWgzOmLAq_1hPVFDbctrp3HORr_41ccMw8KCxCgs/s320/safety-heroes+cartoon+pic.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Anyone who has a desire to educate parents about a
particular (or many) dangers to kids and who is invested in helping keep kids
free from accidental injury and death is a safety hero. In my eyes, if you share Meggie’s story, you
are a safety hero. You might have saved
a life by doing so! Heroes save lives,
right? They teach others about right and
wrong. They inspire those around them to
do the right thing.<br />
<br />
I hope I’ve inspired
a few folks with Meggie’s story to make their homes safer by securing their
furniture and TV’s.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
What will your safety hero outfit be? Mine is a cape and a tiara, of course! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTR2Eds09BVTqPTmGeQN4HbDr1pq0EBu8mieHeCdIN5Olw9Rayz-ctTQoEYfA4U3cEe_1qgdNx2WosGYItijcWHSIqmVTDxwvRjpQCG_hacWZrBRzgffRHGEtQ4JCg6DfBua0MUjwqu3s/s1600/cape+and+tiara+2+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTR2Eds09BVTqPTmGeQN4HbDr1pq0EBu8mieHeCdIN5Olw9Rayz-ctTQoEYfA4U3cEe_1qgdNx2WosGYItijcWHSIqmVTDxwvRjpQCG_hacWZrBRzgffRHGEtQ4JCg6DfBua0MUjwqu3s/s1600/cape+and+tiara+2+%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com117tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-24480991028852729952015-07-22T04:43:00.002-07:002015-07-22T04:43:17.968-07:00Mom + Cause = Advocate = ???Ever wonder what it's like to be a grassroots advocate? <br />
<br />
I never did. Until I became one. <br />
<br />Do you have any idea what a grassroots advocate does? I didn't. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I've made it up as I go along. At least for my cause. Maybe that's what all advocates do. <br />
<br />
Now, in my 11th year as a child safety and tip-over prevention advocate, I can tell you, it's not a job description most people would covet. It's not something the average person would say they want to be when they grow up. Who wants a job where you earn $0 and spend your own money and free time to sustain your cause? <br />
<br />
I guess that's why most of us who do this sort of work have suffered some sort of tragedy or crisis in our lives before we ventured down this road. It's more of a calling, a choice born of love, grief, and a passionate desire to help others, than it is a career choice.<br />
<br />
As most of you know, it took my daughter's tragic death to send me down this path. It's not a path I ever would have chosen to go down. Yet, here I am. Juggling advocacy and all that goes with it with full time parenting, being a ballroom dancing wife with a tremendously supportive husband, working part time, and holding several teaching positions. I really never imagined when I began Meghan's Hope it would be what it has become, or how incredibly challenging and difficult it is to get what seems to be such a simple message, out there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg98HF5ddGXwgqw2xTYcF9gPrCZqDtmugN4jwDY_rKcqdclq13pa1lzYW0JcEgUAyqoOQxaIt2qv1cEzu_kh_ceU0jCH-NHo6zgoXDlvhGmWnp06TiO6MbVX0k6B_oMGEV5foJB2JKj4/s1600/cape+and+tiara+2+%2528275x183%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg98HF5ddGXwgqw2xTYcF9gPrCZqDtmugN4jwDY_rKcqdclq13pa1lzYW0JcEgUAyqoOQxaIt2qv1cEzu_kh_ceU0jCH-NHo6zgoXDlvhGmWnp06TiO6MbVX0k6B_oMGEV5foJB2JKj4/s1600/cape+and+tiara+2+%2528275x183%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Now, I can't imagine not doing it. I have a much bigger vision for it yet I now know how difficult, time consuming, and expensive it will be to accomplish the goals I've set for my awareness campaign.<br />
<br />
I'd estimate I spend an average 6-10 hours a week on Meghan's Hope. Sometimes less, sometimes more. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it means that after working a "real" job and taking care of my family, instead of watching a TV show, reading a book, or perhaps just doing whatever it is most people do with their evenings and weekends, I choose to devote a good deal of my "free" time to raising awareness about the dangers of furniture and TV tip-over. I choose to try to educate people how they can make their homes and their kids safer. I try to save lives. <br />
<br />
Time is but one of the costs of being a grassroots advocate. There are dollar costs, too. It costs me several hundreds of dollars every year to print brochures, business cards, posters, exhibiting supplies, and for web site fees. If I am exhibiting or presenting at a conference, that adds exhibiting fees and/or conference registrations, travel, sometimes hotel reservations, food, and so forth, and that sends costs into the thousands of dollars. The time spent creating and editing those documents, power point presentations and related materials, and corresponding with others adds up to weeks every year. Then if I add in the blogging and writing I do or time spent granting interviews or pursuing them, along with teaching and preparing for those classes, well, it's a time consuming passion. It also costs time to prepare, travel, to present, and to network. <br />
<br />
It's rare to receive payment for anything I write or for speaking, or even getting waived conference fees, even at large national conferences, when doing this kind of work. I still have to pay to attend the conference I've been invited to speak at the vast majority of the time. Not having non-profit status can hurt me sometimes, especially when exhibiting, although most venues will grant me the discounts they give non-profits if I ask and explain what I do. Even local safety fairs often charge a fee to have a table at the fair!<br />
<br />
I bet you are wondering why Meghan's Hope is not a non-profit. It was, initially. The funds that were donated did help to offset the costs of running the organization, but even then, it wasn't enough to cover all of them and certainly did not pay me for the hours I put into it every day. Unfortunately, I needed to have a job that provided an income to support my family, especially once I was a single mom again.<br />
<br />
The reality is that with a legal organization comes requirements, and those are a lot harder to keep up with in a small organization like mine than you would think. Especially when the BOD is composed at least in part, of family members or friends, which many of these educational and advocacy ventures are. In theory, it sounds great, in reality, it can be an incredible challenge. <br />
<br />
It's tremendously difficult to find BOD members who are willing to be active and involved consistently and can all attend meetings regularly. They need to be as passionate as you are. There were many after Meg died who wanted to help, but they quickly faded away. People are busy with their own lives and as I've previously stated, this is a time consuming effort. You need officers who are responsible and take their role seriously. You need enough people to do the fundraising and work that your mission outlines. You must file taxes and annual reports, you must track income and expenses. It's too much for one person, legally it can't be one person, and it's difficult to find enough people to fill all those roles and devote the time and energy to it that the organization needs to be successful. Especially since they are volunteers. I've sat on several boards over the years, they are time consuming, especially for those who lead busy lives, which most of us do.<br />
<br />
It's great for larger charity organizations, but for education and awareness, it's a challenge. Especially when you do not have the time to devote to it, and honestly, it is a full time job if you want it to really succeed. The greatest benefit of a non-profit is the ability to fund-raise and provide those who donate to your cause a tax deduction. I found that those who donated to Meghan's Hope really did not care about the tax deduction, they donated because they wanted to help the cause. I feel the same way when I donate to a cause. I have never once donated to any organization or cause thinking, "I need to do this for the tax deduction."<br />
<br />
I found I could just as easily do most of what I'd like to do without non-profit status. With social media the way it is today, that is certainly a lot easier than it was to reach large amounts of people quickly. I still offer classes, speak, and exhibit when I can. I'm sure there are events I'd love to attend that I just don't even know about. If you know of one, let me know!<br />
<br />
That said, I was surprised to find out how much of a challenge it is to partner with other organizations when you are not a non-profit. Especially with larger non-profits or big National organizations. It's been frustrating that in some cases, a beautiful partnership was jeopardized because Meghan's Hope is not a 501 C3 non-profit organization!<br />
<br />
Advocacy is not for everyone, especially the grassroots parent advocacy I do. I do not have non-profit status. I do not have a Board of Directors. I do not have anyone donating time or money to my cause. I have no one helping me. It's just me. I'm a one mama organization. It's been that way for 8 years. <br />
<br />
I incur all the expenses. I put in all the time, often early in the morning and late at night or on weekends. I am the only one who has to drop everything (and do so willingly) and clear my often very busy schedule when the opportunity for a TV or news media interview presents itself. <br />
<br />
I am the one who teaches and markets the classes, keeps up with the latest information and resources, maintains the Facebook page and website, and answers all the messages I receive (and there are several every single day). I am the one who needs to seek information that I can share so that others can learn what they need to know to keep their kids safe. I do it very willingly, because I believe in it and because I can't imagine not doing it. I <i>have</i> to do it.<br />
<br />
People think I must have help or I must be getting donations because Meghan's Hope must be a non-profit. Nope. Hell, it's like pulling teeth trying to get some of my friends and family to share Meghan's story, website, and Facebook page most of the time, let alone complete strangers who don't have a personal connection to me and have no idea of what our family has been through!<br />
<br />
With regard to TV and news interviews... I've done several over the years. This post was actually inspired by one I did yesterday. A friend said, "Oh, that's so exciting. I know someone famous!" I know she meant it partially in jest and it was a sort of backwards compliment, but I did not want this "fame." It's not really exciting, it's actually quite stressful. Not the talking part, the rest of it.<br />
<br />
Let me tell you a few things I've learned about TV interviews... It's NOT glamorous. It's not easy. It can be crazy time consuming (a 15 minute TV interview can take 2 hours by the time they set everything up, do the interview, and take it down). It usually needs to be done NOW or at least today, so you have little notice and either you answer the phone when they call and agree to do it or they ask someone else (the "scoop" is still very important). If your house is a disaster and they will arrive in an hour, good luck with that! It can be invasive in terms of time and personal space as they are often done in your home. They are usually requested with a mere few hours of lead time, maybe a day if you are fortunate. Today's news is forgotten tomorrow. Sadly, because of what I do, I'm usually only newsworthy if another tragic death has occurred. The news media definitely subscribes to the concept of Carpe Diem!<br />
<br />
You can certainly say yes or no to things or refuse to answer questions, but they often decide where the interview will take place within your home due to lighting and other factors. Much to my dismay, my kitchen is usually used.<br />
<br />
I've done interviews with local cable TV stations, local network television stations, national news programs like Inside Edition, the CBS Morning Show and NBC's Today show. Sometimes they contact me. Sometimes, I write to or call them to suggest a story. Sometimes I get to suggest questions or get a list of questions that will be asked ahead of time, but that's rare. Despite all the time and effort of the interview, not all of them actually make it to air. Some other story can easily knock mine out of the rotation. Maybe what I said was not what they were looking for. Maybe the audio or video was bad. Maybe someone else they interviewed for the same story was "better" in some way. I never know why the ones that don't air, don't. Just try to get a producer or journalist to answer your email or calls when they have no vested interest in you or your story anymore.<br />
<br />
None of them ever show all or the key sound bytes I'd like them to. I'm not always as articulate as I'd like to be. Okay, I'm <i>never </i>as articulate as I'd like to be. I've learned the hard way that I need to be careful with what I say, how I say it, and think about how my words could be used out of context. Most media outlets have a "slant" for their story. Once that camera is rolling or I start speaking, it's all fair game for their story. I've learned to ask what their "angle" is. It helps. If they are truthful. <br />
<br />
Often, the person doing the interview with me has very little information about why they are even here to interview me. Those with young children, especially young daughters, are often thrown for an emotional loop when I tell them the story. Some moved to tears - men and women alike, and both veteran and green journalists and TV personalities. Many don't know what to ask unless they are familiar with the story, and I'm shocked at how few of the journalists do the research ahead of time even though when I have the opportunity, I send them links to all sorts of valuable information about Meghan's Hope and tip-overs. <br />
<br />
Thus, I have to answer the questions to give the information I want the world to hear based on their vague or leading questions that are going down a path different than the one I want to go down. Sometimes they don't ask questions that even allow for that to make any sense! It's all easier said than done when a 10-20 minute taped interview ends up being 15-30 seconds of spliced tape on a show, sometimes taken out of context or without hearing the complete sentence, question, or response. I've even been blindsided by my husband's 911 call in a story, and the producers did not even think to warn us they were using it in the story! This was shortly after Meghan died and it was a HUGE trigger! <br />
<br />
Interviews with newspapers or magazines are easier. They are usually scheduled and over the phone. We often exchange information and links via email prior. These journalists have usually done their homework, already know the story, have seen the Website and Facebook page, and know about what I do, but they also have a 'slant' and you need to know what it is if possible. They often have more time to write their story, whereas TV media is pushing to meet a deadline for the next major newscast.<br />
<br />
I have no say in how any of the media outlets will use the information I provide, and it's sometimes misquoted in print media or used piecemeal, in a way that is not what I intended or in the order that I said it, but it's closer to the information I want to convey and more of what I say is often conveyed in print media than it is in TV media. <br />
<br />
Then there are the articles and stories I write. Those I have complete control over content-wise. Of course, I have no control over who reads them or agrees to print them and it's much harder for me to reach the same audience as a story in a major newspaper or magazine or on a network TV news station does.<br />
<br />
It all takes a tremendous amount of time, energy, and money. Yet I love it. I love Meghan. I do it out of love. I do it so no other parent ever knows my pain. I do it so no other child every has to die the way Meghan did. <br />
<br />
I get no reward, other than the messages from parents who thank me for waking them up to this danger and saving their child from Meghan's fate. <br />
<br />
That makes it all worth it. THAT is why I do it.<br />
<br />
Meghan's Story is saving lives. Yet its not saving enough of them, because 71 children every single day are still injured by a fallen piece of furniture, TV, or an appliance and every 2 weeks a child loses their life to a tip-over accident. Until those numbers are zero, Meghan's Hope must continue. Her hope is to see a day when children are no longer injured or dying from these easily preventable accidents. We're getting closer, but we still have a long, long, way to go.<br />
<br />
All in all, I'd say the grassroots movement has been successful for me. It takes a passionate and determined person, with a relatively strong backbone (never read the comments!) It takes someone who has the know-how to figure out how to build a website (that took a long time!) or find someone who can, to develop and design and print marketing supplies. Someone who is willing and able to talk about her tragedy and deal with the people who can't cope with the story even when they are the members of the news media interviewing you! Someone who can educate, explain, and reach people on a personal level. <br />
<br />
Someone who cares.<br />
<br />
It's a love story. <br />
<br />
So that's what it's like to be a parent advocate. At least today.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-88615687195729425972015-06-09T16:01:00.002-07:002015-06-10T04:05:06.406-07:00The Soccer Mom's Survival Guide: What no one tells you but you need to know if your child plays soccer at any level!<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
It's soccer tryout season. Did you know that? Yep. Otherwise known as hell week for soccer parents everywhere. </div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<br />
It seems as good a time as any to write this post (which could turn into a novel) as my gift to soccer parents who might be, like I was, clueless. I had NO IDEA how big, how political, how competitive (not just for the kids, but the freakin' parents!), how expensive, and how all encompassing time consuming, as in sacrifice your weeknights and weekends for soccer season, this game can be. </div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<br />
Wherever you are in the soccer "pyramid", it is my hope something here helps you. I sure wish I had this information years ago! Read on to get the low down on try-outs. What to ask and when to ask it! </div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<img src="http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0285/1316/products/20i_Soccer.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<b>The early years</b></div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">When my eldest son first wanted to play soccer, I was all for it. He was six years old, full of energy, and it seemed a good channel for that energy. The benefits of playing a team sport go beyond the physical and I wanted to foster both physical activity and being a team player. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">His younger brother naturally followed in his footsteps, starting town recreational soccer at age 5.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">For several years they played town soccer. They were adorable in their too long T-shirts that looked like mini dresses and they wore them proudly. The commitment was two nights a week in the fall for an hour. The first half hour was "practice" and the second half hour was a "game." It was fun to watch. The kids for the most part loved it. The parents were proud and happy their kids were active and happy. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">The coaches were parent volunteers who may or may not have had any personal soccer playing or coaching experience. It was about the basics and having fun. Anyone could play and anyone was welcome. It was clear a handful of kids had some natural talent for running, kicking/scoring, and being able to control the ball at their feet, but it was raw talent, yet to be "developed" (important soccer word). Just getting the kids to run in the right direction and pay attention for 30 minutes was hard enough! Of course, it was an "everyone gets a trophy" situation at the end of the blissfully short 2 month season. Let me tell you, we have too freaking many trophies the kids no longer care about!</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>There is soccer beyond town rec?!</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">I did not realize there was anything other than town soccer when they were young. How blissfully naive I was...</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Then, my older son asked to play in a multi-town league. Essentially the same level of play, or maybe a notch above, but it really all depended on the skills of the players on any given team and the skill of the coach in teaching them the basics of the game. It meant a little more driving to surrounding towns for games and the practices were one town over instead of in our town, but it was manageable. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>How age groups are determined</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">When my younger son was U9 (soccer team age groups are indicated by a "U" for "under" and a number indicating the age group, so U9 is made up of primarily 8-year olds. The cut off is typically you have to be under 9 years old as of August 31st. Some teams/leagues use birth year instead. Some kids can "play up" to an older age bracket, especially if they are skilled, but they do not "play down" to a younger group. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>A slippery slope: Club soccer</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<img height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b1/6a/f0/b16af06c5ffede7849380c10275297e4.jpg" width="320" /></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">My son played with a friend whose father was the coach for his town rec/multi-town rec club. A fellow soccer mom, the wife of that coach, asked me if my son would like to try out for a new elite team being formed in the area. Elite team? What does that mean? Try outs? Seems serious. Do I want to go down that road? Does my son? I didn't even know that road existed, nor was I aware of the turns and twists and hidden hazards it holds. I sure the hell wish I did...</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">"Okay", I said. We went. He tried out. He was identified as having some raw talent and being very coachable (another key soccer word). He was pegged as striker (the one whose primary job is to score). Note: That's not the position he plays now, but at the time, he was suited to it.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The team was put together and the coach worked with him and several other core players over the next 4 years to create a high level highly skilled team. The coach was amazing. He wanted to teach the boys how to play futbol, not soccer. He taught them the importance of physical conditioning, the fundamental foot skills, the mental aspects of the game, and how to work together as a team. He was far less interested in winning than he was in developing these boys into skilled players who shared his passion for the game. He made it fun. He worked them hard. He really cared about these boys and took their development as soccer players and his responsibility in doing so very seriously. He did it for years without getting paid for his time, or certainly not getting paid what he should have been. They loved him. Over the years, they bonded not only as a team, but as friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Turns out this is rare in coaches. In their U 11 season, they were undefeated and won their league championship. To top it off, they won it by playing solid futbol and being overwhelmingly nice boys. They didn't play "dirty", they played the game with their hearts and their heads and their feet. They were passionate for the game, and it showed.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">In their U 12 season they merged with a bigger elite club with the promise of access to better coaching, fields, competition, and amenities. That was a double edged sword. We had the opportunity to travel (at our expense) to Barcelona, Spain, to train with coaches there for a week, and compete with the future Barcelona players. Holy crap, those kids were AMAZING, but what a once-in-a-lifetime experience for the boys who were selected and able to go. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">About the time my youngest started with that coach and new team, my older son took a few years off. He had been a field player and was good at it but he did not have a passion for it. He came back to it 3 years ago, as a goalkeeper (a position he had also played before), seeing the level of coaching and level of play his brother was getting. It reignited his desire to play.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">We were going to try outs and waiting for call backs or contract offers for both boys. Oh. My. Head. Oh. My. Pocketbook.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Now, with both boys playing on club teams, instead of the $40-$100 to play in the town league, we were talking thousands of dollars per child to play on a high level travel team with former college, semi-pro, and professional players as coaches and consultants. We were driving further and my evenings and weekends were all lost to soccer. I seriously could not work a full time job and get them where they needed to be, yet I need that salary to pay for it! Nuts!</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">My older son tried out for an Academy team, and shockingly was offered a position. It was eye-opening in so many ways, and not necessarily good ones... More on that later.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Wait, what? How did we go from a non-competitive, friendly level of play, to highly competitive and tremendously expensive club teams that include crazy amounts of travel, high team fees, crazy expensive uniforms, tremendous costs for equipment that gets worn out (or lost) quickly, and hours and hours of driving to/from practices and games. Most every night and every weekend sacrificed to soccer. For a full 9 months out of the year!</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><i>And thus, I decided to write this guide. </i></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Over the years I have learned so much about how soccer works in this country, at least in our area, and how much no one tells you. I really thought the coaches would keep us informed of progress, opportunities for growth, and true appropriateness of the child and their skill to the team -AKA how much playing time are they actually going to get on this team and do they even really belong on this team? </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Heads up</b>: </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><i>Your child is not guaranteed ANY game time despite what you pay! </i></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>The alphabet soup of soccer</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">There are many levels of play, even within each club and those levels may mean something different club to club. "Select", "elite", "premier", "championship", "select", "united", and "athletic" are some of the cryptic names given to teams that play in different leagues or to differentiate the level of skill and competitiveness of a given team within a given club. They are not the same from club to club. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">There are also many different clubs with many different coaching philosophies, styles, and expectations for both their coaches and players. It's an alphabet soup. MAPLE, NEP, ECNL, NPL, pre-Academy, Academy, District Select, ODP, and it goes on, somewhat related to your geographic area. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">So here goes:</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Soccer mom (and dad) 101</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<img src="http://33.media.tumblr.com/fbf5997728fb2ded1786b02bae89a1f5/tumblr_mx9jarVttX1qcl8ggo1_1280.jpg" height="320" width="320" /><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Starter Soccer</b></span><br />
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Starter soccer is typically the local town soccer team. It typically begins at age 5 or kindergarten. It's meant to be an introduction to soccer, what the basics are (kick the ball from one net to the other and try to get it in the net), and a fun way to exercise. Most of the coaches are simply parent volunteers, many with little or no personal soccer experience. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Note to parents who think they have a a future professional player: The point here is not to make future world cup players, it's about fun.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The cost of starter or town soccer is usually less than $100 and includes a uniform of a T-shirt and maybe socks and shorts. You are responsible for purchasing all other equipment including cleats, extra socks, shorts, shin guards, and any other equipment your player wants or needs. Most of the time it's a 2 or 3 evening a week commitment for an hour that includes a half hour of practice and then mini "games". Most towns play either in spring or fall, but some play both seasons.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Club soccer</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Club or travel soccer can mean a bunch of different things. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Club teams are often called travel teams because their games are played in locations other than the town in which you live. This requires travel to another town to play a good number of games. How far that travel is depends on the club you join and what league they play in.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Club soccer fees vary tremendously. My boys have played on a local club team (surrounding 5 or 6 towns) that cost a mere $150 for a season (included shorts, game shirt, and socks) as well as larger clubs affiliated with European teams or with highly experienced and credentialed coaches that cost upwards of $3000/year not counting uniforms and additional equipment like cleats and goalkeeper gloves which add up over the course of the 9-12 month season. Yes, that's right, it's now nearly year round for most of these clubs!</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Club soccer can offer tremendous opportunity for good coaching, a higher level of competition, true player development (but that is not universal and really depends on the coach and philosophy of the club), and access to resources you might not get elsewhere, especially if you don't know to look or ask for them.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Club soccer is tryout based. Most coaches are looking for three things: general fitness, skill level within the position you play or want to play, and coachability. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Sadly, I've learned for some club teams, it's also about the business aspect, because club soccer is a very serious business. Some clubs will roster nearly twice as many players as they need to pad their bench and their wallets, and not all coaches give all the kids equal game time. Some kids will get none or just a few minutes a game as a sub. While this may come to be expected at very high levels of competition for the older teenage kids, when this happens to younger kids, it's unfair to them and their development.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Most club teams play 9 months a year, competing in the fall and spring seasons, with winter training or futsal leagues (indoor soccer on a hardwood floor) and this is variable depending on the team and what facilities are available. Your kids will play in all kinds of weather. Hot, cold, rainy, snowy, brutally cold and freezing wind. The only thing that will usually cancel a practice or game is thunder and lightning or a full out blizzard. My kids have had outside practices through the winter in New England, with snow on the ground (they plow turf fields and have lights) and wind chills in the single digits as coaches threw ice melt on the sidelines and parents sat in their cars. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><b>Tournaments</b></span></span><br />
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Club teams typically also play in several tournaments each year, and these are almost universally over long holiday weekends like Columbus Day, Labor Day, and Memorial Day. Expect to play on the minor holidays and Mother's Day and Father's Day as well. They may also have games the Saturday before a Sunday holiday (as in the Saturday before Easter) or the Monday of a long holiday weekend. Games are often scheduled on the weekends of school vacation weeks as well and practices typically still happen. This is not unusual. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Tournaments are fun, but they usually are multi-day events with more than one game per day, several hours apart. You basically can expect to spend the day (and weekend) wherever the tournament is. Bring appropriate clothing, blankets or rain gear, your camera, snacks and drinks, and a camp chair. Some people bring coolers and some form of shade. Many teams make a day of it setting up a pop up canopy, creating a pot luck sign up, and making it a fun day for all the teams playing for that club that day. The kids not playing at any given time will watch the other games to support their club mates and perhaps observe a different level of play.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">For the younger age groups, club tournaments are fun and offer different competition than they might normally get during their regular games. There is usually a playoff for the final four in each age group with a trophy/cup for the team that wins the tournament for each age group and medals for the players. No longer does everyone get a trophy. In club oriented play, only the best team at the end of the tournament or end of the season gets the medal or trophy. As it should be. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">For the U 16 age groups and above, the tournaments are called college showcases. Instead of playing for medals and trophies, they play with the hopes one of the many college soccer coaches in attendance see them play and approach them about potentially playing for their school in college. It's tremendously competitive, but a great way to be seen my multiple college coaches in one place. I'll talk more about the college ID process a bit later.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">While club soccer can be fiercely competitive, not all clubs are. You need to do your homework and try out for several before making a choice. There are many things you need to take into consideration when deciding which team to play for, I will address these later.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>School based soccer</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Most of the time, playing for your school does not start until middle school. High school play can vary tremendously depending on the skill of the players any given year and the coaching. Typically there are 3 levels of high school teams, Freshman, Junior Varsity, and Varsity. It is try out based and like club teams, a focus on fitness as much as raw skill in the position you play matters.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Try out 101</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Once you've decided which level of soccer your child wants to play, they have to go through the try out process. Tryouts can be challenging for both player and parent. The player can be nervous and it can be hard to stand out when there are literally 50-100 other kids there at the same time. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Most teams require tryouts be anonymous. So although you typically register and provide a waiver, the player is asked to dress generically (no identifying club information on their attire, just a pair of black shorts, white T-shirt, and black soccer socks for example) and they are given a numbered pinney or a number to pin on their shorts to identify them to the coaches evaluating them. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Most teams also require all their current players to also attend tryouts. This is for two reasons. First, so new potential players are "competing" with the actual players they are likely to play with if chosen, but also because they need to earn their spot each season. Just because they played on the team this year does not in any way guarantee they'll be invited back next year. There could always be a better player for that position who comes along. The coaches typically want to win, not just keep the kids they've always had because they are "good kids." This is a harsh reality of the game, but it's true of any competitive sport.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">For the teams that require try outs, typically any higher level club team (elite, premier, championship are suffixes that give you a clue), they are usually held right after the spring season ends. That usually means the first week or two in June. Sometimes, these try outs conflict with practices, especially for Academy level teams or those in playoffs, as they tend to go later in June.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Try outs require you to do your homework, BEFORE JUNE if possible, to find out what clubs you and your child are interested in, where they are, what the level of play is like, and where there games are played. Knowing this before you go to a try out helps you eliminate teams that are not compatible with your child's ability, time, or geographic area. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">You can search for youth soccer, elite soccer, club soccer, or some other similar terms to try to find out about the teams in your area if you don't know the names of the club teams. Most every club has a website. You can also ask around. Although to be honest, some parents don't share what teams their kids are trying out for, even with their good soccer mom friends, especially at higher levels, because the competition is so fierce, they want to give their child a better chance. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Around here, most of the club teams hold 2-3 nights of try outs and encourage kids to come to more than one to allow for the coaches to get a good look at them. Some clubs, especially the higher level teams, may only hold one night of try outs. Most of the try outs are the same length as a typical practice would be and may vary by the age of the group. Most are 90 minutes for the club teams. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The most annoying thing is that the clubs all also typically have their try outs the same week! This makes it really difficult to try out for more than 2 teams! </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Insider tip:</b> </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">If you have a strong interest in one or two clubs, consider finding out who the coach is of the team your child would be playing on next season. Contact the coach in late April or early May and express your interest in their team. Ask if your child could attend practice one or two nights as guest player. This gives both your child and the coach a low pressure opportunity to see how your child might fit in with that level of team, and for the coach to evaluate them before try outs. It ensures the coach's attention will be on your child, and not 50 children at a general tryout. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">This may result in an offer to play well before try outs begin and eliminate the need to attend try outs at all. Of course I recommend you only do this for teams you have a strong interest in for if you get an offer prior to try out season, they'll want you to act on it or risk losing that offer to another player come the official try outs.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Finding out where the team practices is also key, as you will spend far more time at practices than you will at games. Be wary of the general "in the area" sort of response. Also be warned, clubs can and may change the location(s) of practices at any time during the season without warning. I know of more than one team that moved practices from a half hour drive for some parents to over an hour away in the middle of the season. Time of practice can also be an issue. A 5 or 5:30 pm practice time on a weeknight, especially if you have a substantial drive, could be virtually impossible for a working parent to manage.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Once the try out is complete, you wait. The coach will usually meet with parents briefly at the end of try outs to notify you of when and how those who have been selected will be informed of their offer to join the team. The next 24-48 hours can be stressful for some parents and players, especially if they are really invested in playing for a particular team. Most offers will come within a day or two of the tryout. You may also get a callback instead of an offer. This is a good thing, for it means your child is on the "bubble" and they are still considering them, but want a second look, and may be deciding between your child and another player for the same position. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Not all tryouts are position based</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">If your child plays midfield, and the coach needs a defender or forward and thinks your child would do well in that position, that may be their intent with an offer to play. If you don't ask specifically, you may not know that and your child may be disappointed that they were not selected to play the position they thought they were. Not all kids care about their position, but many do, and not all coaches assign positions to the kids. Some prefer to move them around so they become more well-rounded players or to figure out who plays best in what position as they develop. My boys have both played several positions throughout their soccer careers, both settling into a favorite and best position around U 12/13 after several years of play.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">One thing you typically won't find out about is cost until you get the contract offer. These are typically contracted positions. Once you sign up, you've agreed to pay the full amount. If you sign up and end up hating the team and want to leave, you can, but you don't get any money back (save for maybe a season ending injury early on). They can also be expensive, costing thousands of dollars per season for club tuition alone! </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The clubs usually want a response and an immediate down payment if you accept the offer and within 24-48 hours of the offer being given. If you do not respond or wait too long, they can, and may offer the spot to someone else while you are "thinking about it". Their goal is to fill their roster and get parents/players to commit quickly, before they have time to talk themselves out of it or sign on with another team. If you don't hear back from them for 3 or 4 days, your child was probably not their first choice, but their first choice said no. That is not necessarily a bad thing, just something to be aware of.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">You can ask for more time to decide, especially if your child still has other tryouts to attend or if you are on the fence between two teams, but it may not be granted. You really have to to go in knowing what team your child prefers to play for and be ready to say yes or no to any offers to play.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Most clubs offer a payment plan for tuition, but it's usually front loaded so the first payments are higher and the entire season is typically paid for by December for a season that lasts August to June. Some clubs offer scholarships or monthly payments over the entire season, but you should ask about it as early as possible. The process may take longer for discounts and scholarships, and you still have to make a decision on a team to play for now, often before you receive word on the scholarship being granted.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b>Do your homework! Parents and players!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><br /></b></span>
Aside from being armed with all the above information, there are many questions you should consider asking in order to be fully informed about what you are getting into. Especially if this is your first experience with a large club organization. There can be a lot of surprises, more so for parents, so it's best to understand what you are actually signing up for. The commitment, politics, and expense involved really demands you ask questions. I wish I knew these things years ago. </div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b>Questions to ask BEFORE you sign that contract, or maybe even try out!</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Knowing what questions to ask before you agree to have your child play for any team, can help minimize surprises and help you make a decision that is practical in every way. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Be wary, not all coaches are 100% truthful when providing information or answering questions, and may omit information that you did not specifically ask about (or outright withhold information or even lie) that could significantly impact your child's experience with the team and game time. Things also can and do change. A better player may come along after your child's been offered a position and told they'll start, and suddenly and without warning, your child is merely an occasional sub. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">How often are the practices?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">When are the practices? Time of day? </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Where are the practices?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">How long do practices last?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Are practices mandatory? Is there a penalty for missing a practice?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What league does this team play in? If you can, check the stats for the team at the league website.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is this team's win-loss record? This may or may not be important to you but a team that plays at the highest level and loses most of their games will move down a level next season. Likewise, a team that does really well may move up a division next season. Coaches don't usually share this information, especially the moving down part! This impacts the level of competition the team will face.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Where are the games played? How far/long will I need to travel?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is the cost to play for the year and what does it include?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">For far away games (out of state), will there be a team bus or will I have to drive (or fly)? </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What other costs might I expect to incur (tournaments, hotels when travelling, travel expenses, etc.)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Is transportation provided for travel out of state/distant games, or is the parent responsible for that?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What day are the games on? Will it change at all or are they all on the same day of the week?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Is the cost of the uniform included in tuition? If not, what is the cost? (many kits as they are called can cost several hundred dollars and the entire kit is required to be purchased). What # jersey will my child have? (this is typically assigned by the coach, be sure you know before you order the uniform!)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What can I expect this to cost me? Is there a payment plan? What if I decide the fit is not right or my child gets injured, is there a refund policy?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Will my child play every game? How much game time can I reasonably expect them to see?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Is my child able to play any other sport or for any other soccer team?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What position will my child play? </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is the experience of the coaches? Are they certified? How long have they coached this age group/level?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Did they play soccer and at what level? </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Are the coaches CPR and First Aid certified or is there a trainer at all the games and practices? Is there an AED in the coach's possession, at the practice fields, and at all game locations?</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> If not, are you willing to work toward getting one?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What education and support is available for players and parents?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is a typical practice like? (foot skills, drills, fitness/strengthening, scrimmages, psychology)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is the coaching style? </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">How many coaches/assistant coaches are there? Are they both/all at every practice and game? If not, what can I expect?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Do you assign "homework"?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Do the coaches coach any other teams? (college, other age groups)</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">How early do players need to arrive before a game for warm up typically? (some say 15 min, some say an hour! This will factor into your time commitment.)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What is your policy on parents vocalizing during the games? (shouting, coaching from sidelines, saying your child's name in praise or instruction, etc)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">How many teams play in this club and at what levels?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Is there an opportunity for moving to a higher or lower level team if my child shows they would be better suited to those teams? Can it happen mid-season or do they need to wait until try out time?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Do you provide player evaluations? When? Is any feedback given to the player and parent on a regular basis?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">When are try outs and where?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">If my child can only make one try out, is that going to hurt their chances?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">My child wants to play for their school team or another recreational team, is that problem?</span></span></li>
</ol>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Uniforms</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Uniforms may or may not be included in the club tuition and depending on the required "kit", uniforms can cost anywhere from $200-500 per season. Many clubs use the same kit for 2 years, then the uniform styles or colors change and everyone must buy a new kit.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>What's in a uniform kit?</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">What is required will depend on the club. Many of the clubs are affiliated with European or MLS teams, so the uniforms often bear the name or emblem of the parent or affiliate club. There is some debate, but this likely increases cost. The uniforms are also typically well made tech material by either Nike or Adidas. Whichever it is, many clubs forbid wearing anything on the field that is made by any other manufacturer. So if your club is affiliated with Nike and you have Adidas shorts, socks, hats, whatever, you cannot wear them on the field. I am currently in the middle of a switch from a team that used Nike to one that uses Adidas. Thankfully, my son is also in a huge growth spurt, so much of his Nike gear he will outgrow by the fall season! </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Speaking of growing, when ordering your kit, plan for growth! Buy it for the end of the season! What fits them well in the fall may be waaaaay too small by spring! You've got 9 months to play!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">A typical mandatory uniform kit contains the following items and all items have the team logo on them Jerseys have your child's number on the back:</span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Practice uniform (shirt, shorts, socks)</li>
<li>Home uniform (shirt, shorts, socks of one particular color)</li>
<li>Away uniform (shirt, shorts, socks of a different color)</li>
<li>Warm up gear (warm up pants and jacket)</li>
<li>Backpack</li>
</ul>
<div>
Other uniform gear needed, but not included in the mandatory kit. These items can substantially increase the cost to play, with many items needing to be replaced more than once per season due to growth, wear, or because they lose them! </div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Cleats (expect to purchase at least 2 pair per season, plus indoor or futsal shoes for winter)</li>
<li>Shin guards</li>
<li>Soccer ball</li>
<li>Goalkeeper gloves if your child is a keeper. Expect to purchase a pair at least every season. They are not cheap! </li>
<li>Winter hats and field gloves for outdoor play in cool and cold weather</li>
<li>Extra socks</li>
<li>Extra practice shorts unless you want to do laundry every day</li>
<li>Under layer for cooler weather. Check with your team on what color is required (usually black or white)</li>
<li>Compression or sport underwear</li>
<li>Sport goggles if needed and your child does not wear contacts</li>
<li>Water bottle</li>
</ul>
</div>
</div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Other Elite Clubs to be aware of </b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Pre-Academy and Academy</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The Academy system in the U.S. is overseen by U.S. Soccer. There are very specific rules that the teams must adhere to with regard to their rosters, their practice time and methods, and game time and play. The focus is on more practice and skill development and fewer but highly competitive games. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">These are among the most elite players and there are not Academy programs in every state. Academy is geared toward the U16 and U18 groups. Pre-Academy is U-11 to U14/15 as a development program to groom younger players for the Academy teams. </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">These teams are incredibly competitive. Try outs are intense and only the best of the best will be granted an offer to play. Being rostered at the Pre-academy or Academy level one year does not guarantee your spot the following year. This is actually true of any high level or elite club or other team. Try outs must happen every year, even for the team you currently play for and being invited back to play is not guaranteed. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>Olympic Development Program (ODP)</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">ODP is also overseen by U.S. soccer. This is a great player development program and that is the focus - player development. There are friendly games that are played with other ODP teams, but it is not a competitive league in terms of games. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">It is, however, a highly competitive try out based program. It is for elite players who have potential to progress to perhaps someday being a member of the U.S. National Soccer team. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Kids develop their skills in soccer throughout their years of play. Some will peak at U 10 or 12 with others not fully developing and playing at their peak until U 16 or 17. The reality is, the better the coaching, and the more coachable and dedicated the player to skill development and practice, the better the player will develop. Of course some raw skill is needed, but that is not enough.</span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Finding out about ODP try outs in your area requires you to do your homework. You are most likely to find it by searching for your state's youth soccer organization or simply doing a search for ODP or Olympic Development Program for soccer. Here, try outs are in the late summer or late fall (depends on when the training is to begin). </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">The practices are once a week for 2-3.5 hours and focus on foot skills, fitness, drills, and scrimmages. The most wonderful part about ODP that it really fosters players taking responsibility for their preparation and their play. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">It includes a sports psychology component that is classroom based for both players AND parents. Let me tell you, if they taught parents at the town or club level what they teach parents in ODP about sports psychology, I bet there would be a lot better soccer player/parent relationships! </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">They teach parents what it's like for your player to hear your voice while they are playing, how distracting it is, how coaching from the sidelines undermines what their coaches have told them to do and distracts them from attention to their task in the game. It can undermine their confidence and squash their love of the sport or desire to talk with you about it. They encourage letting your child initiate the conversation about how their practice or game was and to refrain from offering advice or feedback. Simply saying, "I love watching you play" is the best thing you can say to your child, especially after a tough game.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">ODP leads to a regional development camp at the end of the season where players scrimmage against other local ODP teams (Northeast, Southeast, etc.) and the National coaches observe and I.D. the best of the best to join the regional teams. The regional teams feed the National Team. Last year, I believe there were two players out of the several ODP teams in MA (over 100 players) that were invited to regional team. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>NPL</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">NPL stands for the National Premier League. It's on par with the Academy system as it's National and highly competitive with only the most elite and skilled of players typically making the cut for the team. </span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><b>So much more...</b></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">This is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the world of club and elite soccer. There is so much more I have to share so stay tuned for some of my personal experiences and what I've learned from them along with other insider tips and helpful information as you embrace the crazy that is having a soccer player for a child.</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">The realities of being a soccer mom and dad can be shocking if you are not prepared. In short, prepare to sacrifice your nights and weekends until they stop playing or move out, especially if you have more than one child playing! I say that in jest, but it's also a harsh reality. For 9 months out of the year, I spend most every night at a soccer field somewhere. It eats up 4 hours of my day almost every day. Games can eat up an entire day if not an entire weekend when you factor in travel time, warm up time, game time, and the need to eat, pee, and prepare. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">It will serve you, your child, and your family well if you learn what to expect not only for this year, but in the years ahead, especially if your child aspires to play at a highly competitive level or in college. </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">For now, good luck with the tryouts! </span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">copyright 6/9/15, All rights reserved</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Kimberly Amato</span></span></div>
<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"> </span></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-69385381911457563292015-06-02T08:14:00.001-07:002015-06-02T08:14:45.532-07:00UnravelingDo you ever feel like a ball of yarn? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pgHsQc3Si-oX7XZHwZS1x2iZNuogvNX1NTirn5jChK3q7GTTiVuqhJsg0uAN9Oq9R_YMQGfqRzeH2dH6jp1-RbOSHkHXbLKmlPW9c00GqZafehmks9oYoDbtantK7EjfblWftzT-nIY/s1600/ball+of+yarn+multi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pgHsQc3Si-oX7XZHwZS1x2iZNuogvNX1NTirn5jChK3q7GTTiVuqhJsg0uAN9Oq9R_YMQGfqRzeH2dH6jp1-RbOSHkHXbLKmlPW9c00GqZafehmks9oYoDbtantK7EjfblWftzT-nIY/s320/ball+of+yarn+multi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Seriously. I was thinking our lives are not unlike a ball of yarn that grows over time. It may be made of different colors and textures of yarn, but the one end in the middle is the core, the essence of who you were at birth. That core is surrounded by the weaving of the yarn and your life experiences over time. In the beginning, your parents help you grow your ball of yarn. As you get older, you take control over it's growth and development.<br />
<br />
The loose end is the one that keeps weaving the ball. Wrapping it around itself in different ways and patterns. It, and you, grows over time. Each new layer a testament to how you have grown and what you have learned along the way through each of your life experiences and choices.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, you unravel a bit. Intentionally. Usually to create something with your yarn. Friends. Relationships. Jobs. Families. A new hobby. That little bit of unraveling leads ultimately to a bigger ball of yarn. A bigger and better you. A more tightly woven and intricate you. A beautiful you. A wiser you.<br />
<br />
Of course, with each relationship you weave, you in part, join two balls of yarn. Sometimes the result is a beautiful new creation that grows out of both of your balls of yarn. Sometimes, when relationships end, the string is traumatically cut. Sometimes, it's just frayed. Sometimes it's patched back together.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, the unexpected happens. You may find yourself unraveling unexpectedly. Not by choice. You feel a bit out of control. Perhaps someone throws you, like a ball. You land with a thud on the floor, unraveled and tangled. Or the cat chases you around the house like a toy, because you roll so nicely with your round-ness. It makes you feel out of control, dizzy, confused. You might even roll underneath something and be seemingly forgotten or feel lost and alone. Someone might unexpectedly and traumatically sever a part of your string, leaving you quite literally, broken.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmliFd3_LyvkqlW_GTpmTTgseMK2LxLJjMvA142ioeSjjWb44YpMM-twz8EtCvKvfhYqlH595_veMcTAt05KFPmoA6f8s5STh1dS2qxvemKg7f-cL65244FxlF5AeUWCWRBlDJBHvaJA/s1600/cat_tangle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmliFd3_LyvkqlW_GTpmTTgseMK2LxLJjMvA142ioeSjjWb44YpMM-twz8EtCvKvfhYqlH595_veMcTAt05KFPmoA6f8s5STh1dS2qxvemKg7f-cL65244FxlF5AeUWCWRBlDJBHvaJA/s1600/cat_tangle.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
You are not always recognized for the amazing ball of experiences you are. Your essence is not noticed by everyone. You may not be understood for who and what you are. You might even forget who you are and how you got where you are.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, you simply stumble or fall, and begin to unravel. This is not done with purpose, rather seemingly by accident (or maybe the cat did it), and you - the ball of yarn, rolls along like an unfurled yo-yo that doesn't come back to it's starting position. You might be rolling down hill, or bouncing down a flight of stairs, feeling out of control and chaotic. It may happen slowly over time, or be quite sudden and fast.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds10ABX72l98nNMtuEtTnO2yPYwG-XJ_TnJ8AbOIeB9KoBFYvRyMn4eCGTbWt7pk9YOqHvbOzYosKXWm__04wKNUKOFVspI1OUODpe3fZaWVACslU3tb5HaBoOXW8gslIVe1N7dh70W4/s1600/a-yarn-mess+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds10ABX72l98nNMtuEtTnO2yPYwG-XJ_TnJ8AbOIeB9KoBFYvRyMn4eCGTbWt7pk9YOqHvbOzYosKXWm__04wKNUKOFVspI1OUODpe3fZaWVACslU3tb5HaBoOXW8gslIVe1N7dh70W4/s320/a-yarn-mess+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then, you come to rest. You are a mess. No longer a neat ball of yarn. Now, you are all disheveled. You are all in a tangle. You might even have knots in your string. Others may not notice or care that you are lying there askew. They might step on you, kick or push you out of the way, pick you up and place you somewhere else, but not try to fix the mess you are in. They might even make it worse! You might be ignored or forgotten. You might want to just hide, because you feel ugly, confused, and unworthy. Unsure of how to wind yourself back up to be a vibrant,healthy, happy ball of yarn again.<br />
<br />
Perhaps you are wondering where the hell this analogy came from. Today, I am feeling like that disheveled, unraveled, lost ball of yarn. I feel frayed at the edges. I am quite exposed but wish I was under the bed. Before I fix my unwoven and frayed end, I need to sit in this place of being a tangled mess and be with it. I need to figure out why I feel so unwound, unbalanced, and chaotic. How it happened and how to fix it so when I wind myself back up, I do it smoothly and with purpose, not half-assed and in a hurry just to 'make it better.'<br />
<br />
If we try to wind ourselves up too fast, we don't truly figure out why we became unwound in the first place. We just cover up the problem that caused us to unravel in the first place. Lots of people do this. They are cautious to be sure they never unravel or if they do, that no one ever sees them do it. They cover the knots and dirty bits quickly with their loose end, without doing the work. Without understanding or truly taking the time to figure out what the lesson was in their loose strings. Without truly healing before they add to their ball. Soon those bits of chaos get buried by new experiences, but they are still there.<br />
<br />
The unraveling helps us to go back and understand, do the work, figure out where our pattern of weaving went astray, and to fix it by healing and re-weaving our ball of yarn in a happy and healthy way.<br />
<br />
Introspection is good for us yarn balls. As we grow older, we find our sphere of fuzzy goodness is made of many interwoven strings. Sometimes it's just one of those strings that gets frayed, unwound, or even cut. Sometimes it's more than one. Sometimes it's superficial and sometimes it's a deeper string. <br />
<br />
I need to tie off some of my strings. I need to end them with purpose and let them go with love. They are still a part of my yarn ball, just ones that are no longer in need of being attended to. They are draining me, their frayed edges demanding time and attention I don't have or even want to give to them anymore. They served their purpose. Their lesson has been learned and integrated. Their time gone full circle. <br />
<br />
Other strings, I need to add to my yarn ball, or nurture and grow.<br />
<br />
I have decided I need more sparkly yarn in my ball. <br />
<br />
Yes. Sparkles. That's what I need. <br />
<br />
Right after I roll under the bed and take a nap...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bp2YE-PXkvc0rB-o0uzV4s3EZ7cQU9wEDLvNKi0S7OS7NYes-8gEU-HyR7Z3LBT7FfOgDG2y547hvRYS4zAhK3FvBcVJL4y3K7atKs7vivEvwfDsAoNUWQmr8Qcc429JaIkFrIvWGnQ/s1600/sparkle+yarn+purple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bp2YE-PXkvc0rB-o0uzV4s3EZ7cQU9wEDLvNKi0S7OS7NYes-8gEU-HyR7Z3LBT7FfOgDG2y547hvRYS4zAhK3FvBcVJL4y3K7atKs7vivEvwfDsAoNUWQmr8Qcc429JaIkFrIvWGnQ/s1600/sparkle+yarn+purple.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-51881243029288197902015-04-14T04:05:00.001-07:002015-04-14T04:06:18.124-07:00Driving Lessons: SO much more than a rite of passage The past few months have been quite a ride. Literally and figuratively.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My eldest son has his learner's permit and is learning to drive. I *may* have used more of my Lamaze breathing the past few months than I did when he was born! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Teaching your children to drive is one of those parental rites of passage as much as it is a rite of passage for your child. It's a milestone in your child's development and in your parenting. A stepping stone to adulthood for your child. A stepping stone to letting go and fostering independence in your child for you. Once they get their driver's licence they are one step closer to fleeing the nest and with that document, they can legally operate a motor vehicle to do so! It can strike fear into the heart of many parents on many levels! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It is also an opportunity for the parent to practice safe driving habits. Your kids will model you, so don't expect them to refrain from talking on their cell phone or texting while driving or at a stop sign if they see you do it. They pay attention to you more than you think. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="http://9imb150dy03dci7w3gxvi91b.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/BsTcFOmkKGrHqQH-EEu+2dFMhPBL3Zfp5Ntg_35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://9imb150dy03dci7w3gxvi91b.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/BsTcFOmkKGrHqQH-EEu+2dFMhPBL3Zfp5Ntg_35.jpg" /></a>Teaching your children to drive is a task that seems to often fall to the dads. I'd be curious how many moms are the primary educator and supervisor when it comes to teaching their kids how to drive, by choice. Let me tell you moms, DO IT! It could transform your relationship with your child in ways you never imagined.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Given his father and I are divorced, and I have more time, responsibility for transportation to soccer and other activities, and an active interest in participating than his father or step-father, the bulk of the parental hours (40 required by the state) of supervised driving have fallen to me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'll admit, at first, it was a bit nerve-wracking. My husband (his step-father) took him out the first time because he wanted to have that role. The first time I drove with him, I was a nervous Nellie. He has improved tremendously (ah, the benefit of practice) and now he actually asks to drive (everywhere) instead of us having to convince him he should. I'm sure he will be a good driver. I pray he will always make good choices in his driving. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Aside from the parental rite of passage that is teaching your child to drive, if you are fortunate, you might just discover an amazing, unexpected gift in the process. A unique opportunity to capitalize on that one on one situation an enclosed vehicle provides to connect and bond with your child. You have a captive audience, use it to your advantage!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We spend a lot of time in the car. A LOT of time. With soccer practices an hour away, each way, several times a week, there are many hours of having my son as a captive audience and having... a real conversation with him. About real things. School. His girlfriend. His friends. What he wants to do when he grows up. What makes him tick. What pisses him off. What kind of music he listens to. Where he wants to go to college and why. It gives me a wonderful opportunity to share with him, educate him about the realities of life now, and in the future, in such a way that he does not feel threatened, and as a result, he's opened up and shared so much more about the inner workings of his mind, his thoughts, and his feelings, than I ever thought he would or even could! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is something about being in a confined space without requiring eye contact, in dim light (at night), where somehow, one's guard is dropped, he feels emotionally safe enough to share with me. Something, given his personality and history of avoidance of any meaningful conversation up until this year, I never thought would happen. Certainly not to the extent that it has. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As a result, we've connected on a new level. There is more trust on his part that I'm not the most evil mommy in all the land, but I might actually know something or two about life. That I really am looking out for his best interest while also trying to teach him the skills he needs to succeed on his own. There is a vulnerability about him that I've always known was there, but he lets me see now, and accepts my advice. Okay, at least most of the time he at least listens to what I have to say. I'm a fan of natural consequences. I will give him tools and reminders, but I won't do the hard stuff for him. Not that it stops him from trying to convince me to do so...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've also seen him really start to blossom. His humor is definitely an asset (thanks, Dad). He is compassionate and sweet. He struggles with confidence and shyness, although it's not nearly as profound as it used to be. He's starting to not only grow those feathers, but starting to stretch them out a bit. He's figured out (FINALLY), how I work and why. He actually tries to accommodate my needs because he's learned he's much more likely to get what he wants if he does his part. He's becoming a fine young man. He's starting to become eager to get his license and fly. Such a change from a year ago when he wasn't sure he even wanted to apply for his permit when he was able and was afraid of operating a vehicle!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Knock me over with a feather. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm kind of sad our days of driving lessons and supervised driving are coming to a close. He is eligible to take his license test in mid-May. Then, he will no longer require my presence. I fear he will reject it. The right of passage will have passed. He will be one step closer to independence. I will be one step closer to my baby bird leaving the nest. I'm not ready! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You can bet that our last few sessions in the car together will involve discussions around the importance of connection to your family, safety, and imparting whatever other knowledge and insight I can about life's lessons I can. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am so grateful that we've had this opportunity together. The one on one time has been such a gift. After all the challenges we had in his early childhood and the struggles he had with anger management and ADHD, he is turning into a really amazing, bright, mature, compassionate, and articulate young man. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In those tears I'm sure I'll shed, will be ones of pride. I guess I've done an okay job after all. I hope he remembers this experience as fondly as I will. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So when it comes time to teach your child to drive, embrace the opportunity. It's truly a gift in many ways, especially if you long to connect with your child on a new level. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those driving lessons are about so much more than learning to drive. They are about learning to live, love, laugh, cry, and be a good human. They are about parent and child and establishing, in a way, your future relationship, at least, it presents that opportunity to you. It can be so much more than just learning how to operate a motor vehicle and the rules of the road.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Seize the opportunity! It really does go by fast. When he asks for the keys, I might panic. Not because I'm worried about his driving, but because my baby is growing up! I promise you, I'll be less worried than I was 6 months ago, and not just because of his improvement in skill. Because I feel like we have a much better relationship now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*smushy heart*</div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-22058153496280175622015-03-09T11:32:00.000-07:002015-03-09T11:32:42.607-07:00Of sun and solaceI am sitting in the sun as I type this. We're in the midst of a heat wave! It's in the 40's! The snow is melting! It's a gloriously sunny day with a deep blue sky and puffy white clouds drifting by. <br />
<br />
No, I'm not outside, but it's the next best thing. I'm sitting in our newly built sunroom. I have always wanted a sunroom. I am solar powered, I swear. Living in New England, especially this winter, where we have received over 110 inches of snow, most of it in just over a month's time and had the coldest February ever, I am desperate for vitamin D from the big ball of fire we orbit. <br />
<br />
This sunroom has literally saved my sanity. I've been feeling out of sorts, lost, and at a crossroads of sorts. This room is providing insight in ways I'd not anticipated but am grateful for.<br />
<br />
It's only been complete and usable for about a week. I've been in it every day. The cats are also enjoying it for the warmth, the newness, and the fact the bird TV is outstanding with all the windows and my feeders strategically located for our viewing pleasure.<br />
<br />
The benefits of the sunlight alone have shifted my mood, let alone the quiet sanctuary this room provides for me. It is quiet. Blissfully quiet. No TV. No music. Just the sounds of nature from the outside in the form of birds chirping, ice and snow melting, and the wind along with the occasional purr or even snoring of a cat. I am surrounded by windows, and currently, the glare of the sunlight off the way too high snow pack (currently about halfway up the slider, but it was nearly to the top of the slider a mere 3 weeks ago) but no worries, I have sunglasses! <br />
<br />
I am marveling at how this room makes me feel. I knew I would love it, but it didn't occur to me just how much and why. Of course I love the light and warmth the sun provides without the cold! I am fascinated by watching the birds. I watch them eat, play, fly and glide, and see where they are choosing to nest. I could watch the clouds drift by for hours, captivated by how they change and evolve as they move across the sky. Of course I most enjoy glancing up and seeing heart clouds! At night, I watch the moon rise and traverse the sky. I gaze at the stars. I need to bring my telescope in here!<br />
<br />
One of the drawbacks of the room is that it seems to have hijacked my motivation. It has killed my productivity (self-imposed by a never ending to do list). I just want to sit here and be. I don't want to do anything but sit in the sun, listen, observe, perhaps meditate or ponder the meaning of my existence. Clearly, because that's exactly what I need to do.<br />
<br />
Which is most interesting, because as the Universe would have it, I've been feeling rather indecisive and overwhelmed as of late. The "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up" syndrome totally clashing with the long standing issue of there are too many things I want to do, not enough time to do them, the fact that I've been trying to do them all, and as a result, I do none of them well and never finish anything. *sigh*<br />
<br />
I've been rather "lost" the past few months, trying to figure it out. Trying to find focus, direction, to carve out of all the things I love. To choose a passion or two (of the many near and dear to my heart) to follow, to grow, to serve others with, and that pays the bills. No easy task I tell you! I've been busy as all get out and productive in many ways, just in all different areas of interest to me. I've been checking things off my to do list that have been there for YEARS. Surprisingly, or, perhaps not so surprisingly, I just as quickly add more things to the list, with some of the longstanding ones still there. No wonder it never gets shorter!<br />
<br />
Today, it occurred to me that my desire to be in this room, soaking up the sunshine and connecting with nature is born of a deeper need. I feel a strong calling to sit quietly and listen. Listen to spirit, the Universe, my higher self. To ask the question and listen patiently for the answer. It's something I've not done as much as I should or need to. I realize I've lost that connection and I need it. Partially because of the challenges of the weather, partially because I got so caught up in writing last fall and all that followed with Meg's 10th Angelversary, I forgot to rest. I forgot to take care of me. Now that I have the chance to do so, I keep filling the time like the Type A overachiever I am. It's an easy cycle to repeat. <br />
<br />
Except my heart and my spirit are screaming at me to stop. Apparently they've been doing that for a while, but, well, I was too busy to listen. Okay, I heard it, but I didn't honor it. <br />
<br />
I need to just be. Here. Now. Until I figure it out. I'm sure the answer is within me, I just need to turn off the commentary in my head long enough to listen to what my soul knows I'm supposed to do.<br />
<br />
This room brings me peace. It quiets my mind. It begs me to slow down. It's connected me to nature again. It reminds me life is short and I should enjoy it. <br />
<br />
I was hesitant to build the room for it was a pretty penny to build, but I'm not getting any younger so it was now or never. Best. Decision. Ever.<br />
<br />
I long for the warmer days, once the snow is gone and the deck is completed outside. I can open the windows and feel the warm breeze. I will be able to hear the birds without the buffering of the window glass. Maybe instead of writing, I will read! <br />
<br />
In the meantime, I will invoke the wisdom of my cats. Surely they know the benefits of lying in the sun, they do it all the time! They seem pretty calm and peaceful... <br />
<br />
I have two signs in this room. They both speak to me. One says "May every sunrise hold more promise and every sunset hold more peace" The other is about the rules. To it, I say, Amen.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg75xmB0Dk7hF9sGcXqsnpzFgpAH4CaXFpbs5okff9XYrt-ZXcv-s8e4zG2NMF2KbDy3vLRqJtmxAKl_VtkTQfTib8QFs9APi4xH3B2Lvex9veKj6Euq9OErAif6wxcXA90RBHkLhhp65w/s1600/porch+rules.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg75xmB0Dk7hF9sGcXqsnpzFgpAH4CaXFpbs5okff9XYrt-ZXcv-s8e4zG2NMF2KbDy3vLRqJtmxAKl_VtkTQfTib8QFs9APi4xH3B2Lvex9veKj6Euq9OErAif6wxcXA90RBHkLhhp65w/s1600/porch+rules.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></div>
Life is short. Make it matter. Make it fun. Live it from a place of love. <br />
<br />
Namaste.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-4138210023461993362015-02-22T06:35:00.001-08:002015-02-22T16:42:16.864-08:00We need to talk...I've spent the better part of the last several weeks writing. Blog posts, Facebook posts, and Twitter posts on multiple sites and pages I manage. I've also spent a good deal of time reading and commenting on the posts of others. This post and it's subject matter have been swimming in my head for several weeks. <br />
<br />
The crux of it is, we need to talk. There needs to be a conversation that not only starts, but continues. It's already started, but the focus is not where it needs to be. Perhaps I can help shift to focus to where it should be. Where it needs to be. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The Conversation</b><br />
Most of the conversation the past few weeks has revolved around two things. Child Safety and kids dying. Two things I am clearly passionate about, and for me, have been part of my conversations for the past ten years. It wasn't my choice to have these passions. It was born of circumstance. Circumstances that are now part of the fabric of who I am, what I do, and why I write.<br />
<br />
Oddly, it seems many people don't understand how these two things go together. Or, perhaps more accurately, they do understand, but they don't want to think about it. They don't want it thrown in their face. Especially at a time when they are having a good time, gathered with friends and family, and expecting to be entertained by both by the people around them and what they are watching on TV.<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm referring to the Superbowl and the highly controversial <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKUy-tfrIHY" target="_blank">Nationwide ad for Make Safe Happen</a>. I've written about it before and you can refer to that post for my feelings on the ad itself. <br />
<br />
Having read many comments on many social media, news, and blog sites, I am saddened. Not just because so many people did not *get* the message, but the actual reason they did not get the message or outright refused to get the message, even when it was explained to them. DEATH SCARES THE S*IT OUT OF PEOPLE. Especially when it's about kids. <br />
<br />
<b>Death: Don't Wanna Even...</b><br />
Am I wrong? Does the thought of a loved one dying, especially suddenly and unexpectedly, scare the pants off you? You don't want to think about it do you? You certainly don't want to think about what it would be like to get that phone call, that visit to your door from an officer, or the doctor and the social worker at the door of your loved one's hospital room. So many people refuse to create wills, health care proxies or power of attorney documents because they just don't want to think about death. Or think they can put it off until "later" and then, when death comes, later turns out to be tomorrow...<br />
<br />
You fear your spouse having a heart attack or being in a fatal car accident. You know your loved one with cancer is fighting for their life but you don't want to consider they might not win, even if they have. You absolutely don't want to ever have to go to a child's wake or funeral because it's just too hard to even think about, let alone have it be for YOUR CHILD. <br />
<br />
So what do you do instead? You get pissed off when someone else confronts you with it. Especially if they confront you with it out of nowhere, when you were not expecting it. Even worse, if it's a time when you are gathered with friends and family in celebration. <br />
<br />
Guess what. That's the point. That's what it's like for thousands of people every single day. Their perfectly happy lives are shattered when a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly dies. Death, like that ad, doesn't come when you are "ready" for it. It does not always come with a warning. It comes when it damn well pleases. Sometimes you can prepare for it, sometimes you cannot. Sometimes there are things you can do to prevent it, sometimes there are not. There is no good time for a loved one to die. None.<br />
<br />
There was no better time to air that Nationwide ad. Why? A huge audience, full of parents. Who is their target audience? Parents. What was their goal? Education and yes, maybe even shock value. They wanted to get your attention, and they did. The message, preventable accidents are the # 1 cause of death to children and a kid can die just this fast, and when they do, this is how it feels. Don't like it? MAKE SAFE HAPPEN. It was that simple.<br />
<br />
<b>Misplaced Emotions or No Idea What to do with Them?</b><br />
Of course people got pissed off. How dare Nationwide make me confront a subject I'm not comfortable with? How dare they do it when *I* am having a good time? How dare they not warn me they were going to "kill" my Superbowl buzz by killing a kid? They (you?) didn't want their happy family and friends feel good party "ruined." I get it. <br />
<br />
Neither did I. On December 18th, 2004 I was supposed to be wrapping Christmas gifts and making cookies and crafts with my kids. Instead, I woke up to find my daughter crushed beneath her dresser. I spent half the day at hospitals. I came home with a box of her hand and foot prints and a lock of her hair. And overwhelming guilt. She went to the morgue. I didn't want Christmas ruined in 2004 (and for the rest of my life) when instead, I had to bury my daughter who died from a preventable tip-over accident 3 days before Christmas. I COULD HAVE PREVENTED HER DEATH! <br />
<br />
Your Superbowl party might have been brought down by a commercial. My entire life came crashing down around me when my daughter died from a preventable accident. One I could have prevented, had I known of the danger. Had I believed the danger. Had I known the statistics. If only... Their goal was to educate you so you don't ever have to know what it's like to be me. Get it? That ad, might have saved my daughter's life if I'd seen it ten years ago. <br />
<br />
Despite my pain, despite the trigger, I loved the ad. Why? IT CAN SAVE LIVES! It can prevent you from ever having to feel the pain I do. The pain millions of parents feel every year. The pain of losing a child to something you could have prevented. I already live with the pain of losing a child. An ad is not going to change that. If only it were that easy... <br />
<br />
So I'm sorry your SuperBowl viewing experience was ruined for a few minutes. Really. But guess what? You then went back to your eating, drinking, laughing, and regularly scheduled life. My "regular" life is nothing like it was supposed to be. I'm sorry, but get over it. <br />
<br />
<b>Must Know Info: Grief is a Journey and it Lasts a Lifetime</b><br />
You know, it's also interesting to me how many bereaved parents were outraged. They slammed Nationwide for being insensitive to bereaved parents. That bereaved parents were triggered by the commercial and it should not have been shown during the Superbowl. That showing an ad that depicted a child dying was in poor taste. They were angry they were watching with the bereaved siblings of the child that died, and they siblings may have also been upset by the trigger. Or fellow bereaved family members who took offense to their escapist Superbowl viewing being hijacked by a commercial that reminded them of their loss. <br />
<br />
Look, I get it. I am a bereaved parent. I know the spot was a trigger. I know it blindsided people whether they had ever lost a child or not. Grief is forever. Triggers happen. They suck. I hate them as much as the next person. I knew what was coming and I <i>still</i> cried when it aired. It was powerful and compelling. Nationwide did not deliberately try to upset bereaved parents. Parents who did not lose a child to a preventable accident may have also missed the point of the ad, because of their own grief. That's understandable. Would there have been a "good" or "better" time to air that ad? If it triggered you then, it would have triggered you whenever you happened to see it. Perhaps you'd have been less likely to see it if it were not aired during the Superbowl. <br />
<br />
Many of us prefer to be alone in our grief, or when triggered unexpectedly, but what about the benefit of having the support of others in our grief? What about taking advantage of having friends and family around to support each other, have a conversation, and help us work through our grief? Especially when something like this happens? That was the gift inside of this commercial for families who are bereaved for any reason, but especially the loss of a child. The opportunity to start or continue the conversation about death and grief. Of course if your loss was recent, this is often harder to do and I am sensitive to that. Really, I am.<br />
<br />
Even if you had not ever lost a child, if you didn't like the ad during the Superbowl, you would not have liked it any better during your favorite reality, sitcom, or drama show, either.<br />
<br />
<b>The Truth</b><br />
Let's be real and honest here. Your objection to the ad was not *really* that it aired during the Superbowl. It was that it involved the death of a child and it made you uncomfortable. That discomfort was likely amplified by the fact you were probably in a social environment, and with other people who were equally uncomfortable with a serious subject like the death of a child. You probably did not have much experience discussing death and/or are uncomfortable with it, or even if you did, you might have felt peer pressure to go along with the crowd and their reaction. Chances are you stuffed whatever emotion the ad dredged up in you, or, impulsively blamed Nationwide for YOUR discomfort with the death of a child (and likely completely missing the point of the ad), and went back to the party and the game. <br />
<br />
I was watching with my two sons, who are obviously bereaved siblings. We talked about it right after it aired. They were not upset by it. They *got* it. Once they understood the reason the ad was made that way, and what it was really about, they were able to see the benefit. They were proud their sister is helping to save lives through Meghan's Hope and my involvement with the Nationwide Make Safe Happen campaign. <br />
<br />
Why were my kids not upset? Probably largely because we *do* talk about death in this house. We talk about how Meggie died, why she died, and what we can do to prevent it from happening to others. I don't shelter them from death, I never have and I never will. Even when they were 3 and 6 the day she died, they were involved in all of it in an age-appropriate way. We are an open, honest, real family. We talk about triggers and that it can be upsetting when things remind us of her and the way she died. We talked about how others might not feel the same way we do and why. I want my kids to understand and be comfortable talking about death. <br />
<br />
While talking about triggers, what about the 911 ad? How do you think victims of domestic violence felt about that ad? Don't you think it was a trigger for them? What about people who lost children to cancers or other illness and their reaction to the St. Jude commercial? What about alcoholics and people who lost loved ones to drunk driving and all the beer commercials? Triggers can happen to anyone, anywhere, anytime and for any reason. Yes, for those who have lost a loved one and especially a child they may be more intense, but there are other kinds of losses that cause just as strong of a grief reaction. <br />
<br />
To a point, we can only relate to what we know and what we believe to be true. When it comes to grief, everyone does it differently. Everyone brings to any discussion their personal, cultural, religious and spiritual beliefs along with their personal life experience. <br />
<br />
<b>The Power of Choice </b><br />
Yet we always have a choice. We can choose to be pissed off and self-absorbed about our personal feelings about anything, in this case the Nationwide ad, and the fact they used a child that died from a preventable accident to educate parents that preventable accidents are the #1 cause of death to children. That <i>their</i> kids could be at risk. Really. Not someone else's kids. THEIR kids. <br />
<br />
Nationwide made it real. Reality, when it involves death, makes most of us uncomfortable. <br />
<br />
Instead of getting the message. Instead of going to the makesafehappen website or checking out the app to see what it was all about, people lashed out against Nationwide for "killing a kid during the Superbowl." They <i>chose</i> to place blame on Nationwide for how it made them feel. Nationwide did not "make" you feel or do anything. That's all you. They created an emotional, compelling, PSA. How you chose to react to it was all you. Really, we need to start owning our feelings, understanding them, and stop blaming others, no matter what it is we feel. The only person responsible for how you feel is you. <br />
<br />
Let me say that again. <i> The only person responsible for how you feel is you.</i><br />
<br />
I propose it was much less about how people felt about the commercial itself and a whole lot more about how death-averse we are as a society. People missed both messages embedded in that commercial. In doing so, they missed both an opportunity to learn more about preventable accidents and making kids safer and they missed the opportunity to have a real, honest, and important conversation about death, dying, and grief.<br />
<br />
<b>The Conversation Begging to be Had</b><br />
Here is the thing. Death is part of life. We are all going to die. We all know that, but no one seems to want to actually acknowledge it until they have no choice. Yes, we would love to believe that we will all live long, happy, healthy and full lives and die of old age when we are damn good and ready to. <br />
<br />
Except life doesn't always work that way. <br />
<br />
People die. Some after living long, fulfilling, wonderful lives. Some before they are born. Some die of horrible diseases they did not ask for or deserve. Some die in car accidents or plane crashes that were no fault of their own. Some will have a heart attack or stroke with no risk factors or warning signs. Some die trying to save the lives of others like the members of our armed forces or first responders. Some are horribly murdered. Some commit suicide. Some die in an accident that may have been preventable. Sometimes the victims of these accidents are kids.<br />
<br />
There is never a good time to lose someone we love. When kids die, it hits us especially hard. Even if we don't know them. Why? Kids are not supposed to die. Certainly not before their parents. Of course not everything that takes the life of a child can be prevented. But many accidents can be prevented. Why would you not want to do everything you can to protect children so they have every opportunity to live long, happy, and healthy lives? <br />
<br />
<i>Nationwide started a conversation</i>. They want to educate people that accidents are the #1 cause of death to children. They want to teach parents and those who care for children what the dangers are and how to make their homes and their children safer. It's that simple. It's that important. They provided a wonderful resource and information in the <a href="http://makesafehappen.com/" target="_blank">Make Safe Happen website</a> and app. They want to save the lives of children.<br />
<br />
I want to take it one step further. Let's also let it be a catalyst for talking about death, dying, and grief. Let's learn how to support others who have lost someone they love. Let's learn how to support someone who is dying and those who love them. Let's talk to our families about what would be important to us when we are facing the end of life or after we die. I've tried to start this conversation, at least with regard to understanding and supporting bereaved parents, with my book <a href="http://www.outofthedarknessgriefsupport.com/" target="_blank">Out of the Darkness. </a><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>What you can do</b><br />
I ask of you two things. <br />
<br />
First, If you've not yet done so, please visit the<a href="http://makesafehappen.com/" target="_blank"> Make Safe Happen Website</a> and download the app or, if you don't have young children in your life, share it with someone who does. <br />
<br />
Second, make a date on your calendar to talk to your spouse, significant other, children, family members and/or friends about what would be important to you if you were dying. What you'd want after you die for services. Create a health care proxy, power of attorney, and will if you've not done so already. Don't wait for a health crisis, or for when you get older, or allow it to be put off over and over again. Do it now. It will make everything so much easier when death does come knocking for everyone involved. <br />
<br />
Be the change. <br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApjaq0h5LFUdjc8PFx_eI2mj80qpiTeB05Gltj6iwHGY7aENX8iKU1SHrLTvDMVMPrOcORl5QFRBO2jf3FwvBypgdZc5p3ISYl3dQPVj-W1q-PcIqmviYM1CGp8_w-OtAwZqElr2sEKU/s1600/wayne-dyer-quotes-on-life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApjaq0h5LFUdjc8PFx_eI2mj80qpiTeB05Gltj6iwHGY7aENX8iKU1SHrLTvDMVMPrOcORl5QFRBO2jf3FwvBypgdZc5p3ISYl3dQPVj-W1q-PcIqmviYM1CGp8_w-OtAwZqElr2sEKU/s1600/wayne-dyer-quotes-on-life.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>Meghan’s Hope and Nationwide are partners in the Make Safe Happen campaign. While all opinions expressed here are my own, I have received compensation from Nationwide for promotion of their Make Safe Happen campaign materially or financially.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-56815945248706334682015-02-21T08:37:00.001-08:002015-02-21T08:37:29.215-08:00Lost and confuzzledMy get up and go has definitely gone. Where, I do not know. I'd kinda like it back...<br />
<br />
I feel... lost. I can't seem to find my motivation. I have a gazillion things to do and actually, in theory, have time to do many of them, yet I can't seem to execute. At least not in a manner that shows any true progress on the to do list. <br />
<br />
It's rare that I have this problem. Usually, I am crazy busy. A multi-tasking queen. I hardly have time to think, let alone sleep, before I move on to the next things. Yes. Plural. Things. I truly wonder what it's like to focus on just one thing start to finish. I bet it's nice. <br />
<br />
Speaking of sleep, that is one thing I've actually been doing a lot of. Normally, if I'm lucky, I average about 5-6 hours of sleep a night. The past few weeks it's been more like 7-9 with an occasional double digit in there! Even when I wake, I laze around in bed, either trying to go back to sleep or pondering what I should be doing instead of lying in bed. Sometimes I doze off. Most of the time, I end up frustrated that I wasted all that time lying there instead of getting up and being productive. I'm honestly not sure sleeping longer has been a good thing for me. <br />
<br />
As I tend to be introspective about such things, here is my analysis: The working diagnosis? Seasonal/situational frustration, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up-itis, and winter. :-)<br />
<br />
The questions? What to do about it and how?<br />
<br />
The problems and challenges are:<br />
<br />
1) I don't have a consistent income at the moment. I am working per diem, and although I'd like to have more hours and more clients, my current job is not able to provide them for a myriad of reasons beyond my control. I have been fortunate to be able to generate income from other sources, but the time has come that I need to find another job that provides both the flexibility in scheduling I need and a more consistent income. This is not as easy as it sounds. <br />
<br />
2) When I look back over the past few months, I have been fortunate, that because of #1 above, I have been able to devote much needed time and energy to other projects. The jobs that are more of my passion, but that are done because they are important to me, not because they generate income because, for the most part, they don't, especially when you subtract what I spend to maintain them. This includes being able to devote more attention to Meghan's Hope through partnerships with Nationwide and the CPSC, re-designing the website, and the ability to be more active with social media and blog posts. <br />
<br />
I wonder if, given the whirlwind of opportunities that came together right around Meg's 10th Angelversary, and the fact my book was published that same week, that I'm finally feeling the depression I typically feel in December. Hmmmmm.<br />
<br />
3) So many ideas, too many ideas. Oh, squirrel! I have also been able to work on and re-design the websites for my other business ventures, neither of which I've nurtured much the past few years because of the book, work, and family commitments. I must say, they look much better! There is still work to be done, but I'm happy with the new look. I've also finally cleaned and mostly organized my "teaching closet", quite a project that was on the list for years. As for the rest, I start one thing and then think of something else. My lists have lists! Precious little ever gets crossed off as complete. Partially because I keep finding new things to do.<br />
<br />
4) Since I have the time, I've been taking online classes for a certificate in Thanatology (the study of death, dying, and grief). This is a subject that has always interested me, and one I feel called to learn more about in the hopes I can help others as they cope with their own death or that of a loved one. It's been a long time since I went to school! Unfortunately, the challenge is not only in finding the time to do the reading and the homework, but of course, there is a cost to take the classes. Until I am able to resume a more steady income, this will end up on the back burner after this current class is finished in a month. That said, I'm really enjoying the information and the challenges of "school."<br />
<br />
5) While soccer is a year round thing, spring soccer is around the corner and the schedules for my boys ramps up this week. There are conflicts abound and soccer 4/5 weeknights for one or both of them and practices and/or games every weekend, to the point our weekends are completely filled with soccer in some way, shape, or form until July. There are, of course, tournaments thrown in there, too. Usually on holiday weekends, because, who needs a long weekend anyway? This is a stress I am used to and try to do without too much complaining, but it is a stress. Managing dinner, homework, laundry, and all that goes with managing a household is a challenge and a half every spring and fall. It's near to impossible to see family and friends. We miss many social events. Just looking at the calendar gives me chest pain and zaps my energy. <br />
<br />
6) Because soccer is all-consuming, it means my husband and I will not be able to continue our ballroom dancing to the level we would like to. In fact, I'm not sure we are going to be able to get lessons in at all for the next several months. This is the one thing we do for us and together and it makes me sad that we are not going to be able to continue. There is also the financial piece, because it's also expensive (in money and in time) to take the lessons, practice to actually get better and progress, and even more so to enter showcases and competitions, neither of which we are likely to do for the rest of the year. Mostly, it makes me sad that the one thing we do for us, together, is what has to give. We have precious little time together, since even with soccer, we each have to take one somewhere. The lack of couple and family time adds stress. Parenting is demanding and I want to support my boys to be their best selves, but they damn well better appreciate what I've given up to drive them and their smelly cleats all over creation! I must admit, I wonder what it would be like to have normal family dinners together every night, hell, what it's even like to BE home every night, and to have weekends free to do family stuff, house stuff, RELAX, because what the hell is that like?!<br />
<br />
7) THE WEATHER! This has been the longest, damn near snowiest, and coldest winter ever. Seriously, it really has been. I don't like winter. I don't mind the snow if I don't have to drive when it's a mess, but I hate being cold. Absolutely hate it. Even worse? Because of this snowstorm every few days pattern, and when it's not snowing it's barely 10 degrees with a wind chill below zero, it has not been safe for me to run outside. I'm training for a half marathon and instead of running 3x/week I'm lucky if I run 2, in less than ideal conditions, in yak tracks. Long runs are near to impossible of more than 5-6 miles because the roads are just not safe to run on, too much snow and ice and poor visibility due to the height of the snowbanks on corners. I don't have access to a treadmill nor do I have time to drive to where I could use one. I like to run outside. I need to run outside. My feet need to hit the ground, I need to breathe fresh air, I need the sun on my face, I need the quiet, the time to clear my mind, the endorphins! I'm not getting it and I'm feeling it. :-( Given the weather pattern, it's unlikely to improve for many more weeks. Damn groundhog...<br />
<br />
8) Indecisiveness. This is perhaps the biggest problem of all. I've long said I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. While all of my dreams are important to me, it's obvious I cannot do them all. I've given up the two I began with, oddly enough. I'm not longer teaching childbirth classes or being a birth doula. Oddly, I don't miss that. I guess that part of my life is over. That life mission, accomplished. <br />
<br />
The problem now is I have 4 websites and associated social media accounts I maintain, each of which, could, in theory, stand alone as ONE full time job and business. Meghan's Hope is one of them, the one I devote the most time to, and the one that costs me money to maintain. Another one is geared toward my Reiki practice and teaching of metaphysically oriented subjects. One is devoted to my book and grief support, and I'd love to grow that. The last is devoted to home and life safety and is sort of a sister site to Meghan's Hope. I teach a myriad of subjects in a variety of settings that incorporate all of these business ideas. I'd love to do more of that. I'd love to be presenting and doing more public speaking. I wish I could get it all on one business card! <br />
<br />
Of course what have I not done? A press release for the book. Why? I'd say no time, but really, I've not been compelled to yet. Honestly, the weather would have mucked it up anyway if I planned a book launch or party. The time is coming, but it's not yet. I'm not sure why. I'm working on it, though. <br />
<br />
9) Frustration and overwhelm. Given the 8 things above, you can probably see why I'm stuck, lost, and confuzzled. One one hand, I know what I want to do. The problem is that is too much! I know I need to focus on one or two things and devote the time and energy to grow them that I need to. I've been trying, but the financial rewards are not yet recognized and I'm not sure how much more time I can take before I need to table them and get a "real" job again. The Universe has been kind in bringing abundance into my life in other, somewhat unexpected ways and for that I am grateful. <br />
<br />
10) Time needed to devote to college planning for my oldest, who is a junior in high school. Trying to plan and schedule college visits between soccer commitments and ID camps/clinics and a summer job for him is no easy feat. He also needs and will need a lot of guidance and gentle nagging to do what he needs to do to be prepared to apply come the fall. <br />
<br />
11) The realization that I can't do it all, certainly not well. I also cannot save the world, or even a portion of it. I'm not even sure I can get my own ducks in a row.<br />
<br />
The solutions?<br />
<br />
1) SPRING! Seriously, warmer weather and the ability to get back into my running routine will likely help tremendously.<br />
<br />
2) Eat better. I eat horribly. I always have. When I am stressed and or in a funk like I am now, I don't even have an appetite or I turn to quick, easy, foods that are nutrient poor and sweet. <br />
<br />
3) Figure out what I want to be when I grow up and stay focused on it. <br />
<br />
4) Enjoy the time I have with my boys. They are growing so fast... I guess I can dance in a few years instead. ;-) <br />
<br />
5) A good cry. Tears cleanse the soul. My soul is frustrated and tired. It needs some cleansing, some clarity. <br />
<br />
6) Did I mention spring? Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-65998543150124807762015-02-02T08:53:00.001-08:002015-02-02T17:22:18.567-08:00The Nationwide SuperBowl Ad was a Wake-up Call. Are you Going to Answer it?<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I’m sitting on the couch right now, snuggled up with my
cat and my son. I’m watching the snow
fall outside. Blanketing the ground in
peaceful, pure, white snow. You know
what I’m thinking? I’m wishing his twin
sister was sitting here with us. But she’s
not. You know why? Because she died from a preventable accident
ten years ago, when she was three. I
buried her three days before Christmas because I didn't know or even believe a small
dresser like hers could fall and kill her.
But it did. Had I known the
dangers and how to prevent it, she might be sitting her with us today. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Yes, I've lost a child to a preventable accident. Yes, the Nationwide ad made me cry. Yes, it was a “buzzkill”. It was probably a huge trigger to bereaved
parents, especially those who have lost young children, especially those who lost children to an accident. Anything that reminds a bereaved parent of
their pain is. It blindsided people, on
purpose. That’s exactly what happens
when a child dies from a preventable accident, too. One minute your child is fine and then,
without warning, they are dead. Trust
me, I know. It happened to at least one
parent while they were watching the SuperBowl yesterday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKUy-tfrIHY">Nationwide
SuperBowl ad</a> was also brilliant.
Why? It was raw, real, honest, and absolute truth. It was creative and emotional. It started a
conversation. One no one wants to
have. Yet it’s one everyone should
have. One everyone <i>needs </i>to have. It hit at the fear of every parent; that their child
could die. It made millions of people
aware not only that preventable accidents are the #1 cause of death to children,
but gave them a place to find information so they can prevent those accidents
and protect their children.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
In the time that commercial aired, at least one child
died from a preventable accident. That's 60 children that die every single hour! In the
time it took you to watch the entire SuperBowl, At least 12 children (3 every hour) were
victims of a furniture or TV tip-over alone! At least 240 children died around the world from accidents that could have been prevented! All while millions "escaped" their problems and watched a game on TV. Many were upset their good time was interrupted by such a dark and depressing ad. Really. They were upset Nationwide was trying to save the lives of children by using the largest audience of the year on National television. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Were you among the people who took offense to the
ad? Why?
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Because it was “inappropriate”? Do you not find the blatant promotion of
alcohol, sex, and violence on TV and advertised during the SuperBowl also inappropriate? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Because it was a “downer?” Because it made you sad or cry? Because it
was about an adorable child that died and that made you uncomfortable? A child just like mine, or perhaps, just like
yours? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Because you had to explain to your children why that
child died? Have they ever watched a
Disney movie? Did you not see the
teachable moment there to explain that going into water alone, playing in front of a
TV, or eating things that are not food could be dangerous or even deadly? Death is everywhere, it happens to everyone - eventually, and that conversation
needs to happen. No one is invincible.
Were you upset because it made you afraid something could happen to your child? Don't get mad, get smart. Be pro-active.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Did the ad stir up some sort of emotion in you? Good. That was the point. To get your attention. To make you stop and think. To educate you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
People need to get their heads out of the sand! Ignorance is not bliss. Nor does it protect
anyone! Preventable accidents happen for
two reasons, either because parents don’t know of the dangers, or worse, they do
know and don’t believe that “it” can happen to their child, so they do nothing
to prevent those accidents. It <i>can</i> happen to your child. It doesn't matter what "it" is, who you are, where you
live, or how good of a parent you think you are. No one is immune. No one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Accidents happen, but they are ALL preventable. Why wouldn't you want to do everything you
can to prevent them and to protect your child?
If you already have, thank you. This ad was aimed at those who don’t
know or don’t believe their child could be at risk. Unfortunately, a recent study revealed that most
parents think they are doing everything they can to make their homes safe, yet they
are still unaware of many of the very things that are killing children in the
home like tip-overs, strangulation, drowning, and poisoning, all of which can
be easily prevented. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Are you angry that the ad hit you in the gut? Perhaps you had that pissed off feeling that
the ad “ruined” the warm, fuzzy, and funny SuperBowl commercial experience for
you? It killed your feel-good buzz? Think about this: that’s how it feels to bury a child who died from
a preventable accident, only a thousand times worse, and then you have to carry
that pain with you for the rest of your life. 240 parents had that feeling too while you watched the Superbowl, only it was because their kids actually did die from a preventable accident. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Lucky for you, your warm fuzzies returned with the next
ads. You complained about it, perhaps tweeted your disgust and went back to your regular life. For parents who have lost their children to a preventable accident,
nothing is ever the same again. Nothing. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Think about that. Imagine for a moment what it might be like if
your child unexpectedly died today. Now
think about how you’d feel if you could have prevented it. Do you get it now? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It’s not surprising the ad had so many negative reviews and
comments. It brought up a subject no one
ever wants to talk about – death to children.
I can assure you that no parent that lost their child for ANY reason
ever thought it would happen to them. I
sure as hell didn't. Yet if any of us
could have had information that might have saved our child’s life, we’d have
given anything to know how we could have prevented our child’s death BEFORE
they died! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Nationwide’s ad didn't stop with the message that preventable accidents are the #1 cause of death to children. It began there. They have also created a free
website at <a href="http://www.makesafehappen.com/">www.makesafehappen.com</a> and
a free<a href="http://makesafehappen.com/get-the-app" target="_blank"> interactive app</a> for both IOS and Android so parents can learn about
these accidents and how to prevent them.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpUT1F499v-megCcnAqt1qLEf9xddEVH-QVu35LRmo8cYbk3syUTY7vMRIPhIQv-LpFAkp1COfJmWuV9bxqf1eEb3XvbJ-DCT0fnQ0qRzBRL7IetrpPVcwSsC947kKqNxcW_bo9HzDUs/s1600/make+safe+happen+category+screen+shot.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpUT1F499v-megCcnAqt1qLEf9xddEVH-QVu35LRmo8cYbk3syUTY7vMRIPhIQv-LpFAkp1COfJmWuV9bxqf1eEb3XvbJ-DCT0fnQ0qRzBRL7IetrpPVcwSsC947kKqNxcW_bo9HzDUs/s1600/make+safe+happen+category+screen+shot.png" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Unfortunately, far too many people missed this valuable
information. Why? Because thousands of people used the emotion
the ad stirred up in them and jumped to a conclusion without having all the
facts, without actually visiting the <a href="http://www.makesafehappen.com/">www.makesafehappen.com</a>
website.
They may have been so shocked by the message of the ad that they did not see the link to the website at the end of the ad. They assumed because
Nationwide is an insurance company that they were trying to use the preventable
death of children to sell insurance!
Nothing could be further from the truth.
It does however speak to a different social problem we have, the one
where misunderstandings are taken as truth and facts are not checked. Shame on those who were reactive and formed
an opinion before having the facts.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Think about this.
Had that ad been sponsored by <a href="http://www.safekids.org/">Safe
Kids</a> or <a href="http://www.meghanshope.org/">Meghan’s Hope</a>, anyone other than Nationwide, would you have come to a different conclusion? Would you have been more likely to go to the website
and pay attention to the message of the ad?
I’m curious. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Nationwide has a long history of advocating for child
safety. In fact they published a
brochure on child safety in 1954 titled “Your Child’s Safety.” They have a
60-year partnership with Nationwide Children’s Hospital. They have partnered with Safe Kids Worldwide on
the Make Safe Happen Campaign as well as with other child safety advocates like
myself and Meghan’s Hope. There is a
longer PSA about Make Safe Happen. It
was too long for the SuperBowl, but it explains the program in greater depth. I encourage you to watch it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JoELI1h7nM">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JoELI1h7nM</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Do you want to learn what hazards may lurk in your home
and how to prevent them from injuring or killing your child? Then go to <a href="http://www.makesafehappen.com/">www.makesafehappen.com</a> and educate yourself. Download <a href="http://makesafehappen.com/get-the-app">the app. </a>Let's Make Safe Happen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Maybe if everyone does, every child will be able to get
cooties, learn to fly, and get married. I sure as hell wish my Meggie could have…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Disclaimer: Meghan’s
Hope and Nationwide are partners in the Make Safe Happen campaign. While all opinions expressed here are my own,
I have received compensation from Nationwide for promotion of their Make Safe
Happen campaign materially or financially.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com177tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-25565560330768279582014-12-28T17:37:00.002-08:002014-12-28T17:37:45.434-08:00Self-publishing: Was it worth it? So, now that I've come down off the high of holding my very own book in my hands, I've had a chance to reflect on what it took to get to that point. For those of you who may be aspiring writers, friends and family wondering what the hell I've been doing for the past 18 months, or for those who just want to know what it took to make this dream a reality, read on!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had been toying with the idea of writing a book for years. Fifteen years ago I had gone as far as writing a proposal for a book about twin pregnancy and birth. Then, the same week that I was actively seeking an agent, my 3-year old daughter died, suddenly and unexpectedly. If you follow this blog, you know all about Meghan and what has happened in the ten years since that day. Needless to say, my focus shifted. That venture. That dream. That part of my life, dropped off the radar. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After I started writing to Meggie a few weeks after she died, I pondered turning some of my "letters" into a book. But how? <br />
<br />
No matter. Grieving got in the way. Life got in the way. Collateral losses got in the way. There was no energy. No time. But the desire was still there, waaaaay in the back of my mind but ever present in my heart. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For the past several years, I have had the idea to write a book for bereaved parents. Then, I began to wonder if I could write a book that served two purposes. Both a book for the bereaved and those who support them, but also part memoir, as supporting "evidence" for the self-help portion of the book. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a daunting task. Not so much the writing part, but the logistics of it. I worked nearly full time between all my jobs. I had two boys to raise who played soccer almost every night and weekend. I managed Meghan's Hope in my "free" time, a time consuming but voluntary labor of love. With what little was left, I fostered relationships with family and friends. I don't sleep much as it is... when the hell would I find time to write?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Two years ago I wrote the blog post that was a call to action and cry heard around the world. It was called <a href="http://lovelightlaughterandchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/be-with-me-just-for-today.html" target="_blank"><i>Be With Me. Just for Today</i>.</a> Perhaps, if you've been here before, you've read it. It went viral. The thousands of comments and messages I received was astounding and overwhelming. I wanted to raise awareness about the dangers of furniture and TV tip-overs. Which I did, and I was thrilled. That has evolved in ways I only dreamed of and will write more about that soon. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What I didn't expect from that blog post, were the hundreds of messages from other bereaved parents, who in reading it, reached out to me to thank me for sharing what it's like to be a bereaved parent publicly. To tell me they felt the same way and thought they were the only ones. That they were frustrated their family and friends kept telling them to get over it and move on. That other people did not understand what it was like to lose a child. How it hurts so much and for so long... forever. My grief keeping and sharing encouraged them to do the same. We all helped each other to heal.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKy_9pWwYtaW1F4y7WKTBCW7nd8AxPv2Sj0yYZf3NO5_4DTWwLWeziilQ1Fjrdk36qLqEDluHZmq_pOLCIrJUUuRIPjK9EsQbtxt8GlPvWh5qt687Ab3PPP1IfDog2CBpZuEgb3xYtkY/s1600/tears+can+heal....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKy_9pWwYtaW1F4y7WKTBCW7nd8AxPv2Sj0yYZf3NO5_4DTWwLWeziilQ1Fjrdk36qLqEDluHZmq_pOLCIrJUUuRIPjK9EsQbtxt8GlPvWh5qt687Ab3PPP1IfDog2CBpZuEgb3xYtkY/s1600/tears+can+heal....jpg" height="148" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In talking to other bereaved parents, they encouraged me to write more about it. I found myself having similar conversations with many different people about child loss and coping. What to say to bereaved parents. What not to say. How to tell your family how you feel. What to do if they don't get it. Where to find help when they feel so alone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then, I found, through my work as a home care physical therapist, there are a tremendous number of bereaved elderly, who lost their own children. Some as babies, some as teenagers, some just last year and yet their pain is no different, no less than had it happened yesterday to their only child born still. Then I started to get referrals to talk to other bereaved parents. As a lay mentor. When I mentioned my plans for a book they all said, "Yes, oh please... that would be so helpful... I can't wait to read it"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thoughts of a non-fiction book, part self-help, part memoir, began to swim around in my head again. It was daunting to consider actually undertaking writing a book! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I received one unsolicited publishing offer as a result of my blog post. I researched the company, which was a hybrid "self-publishing" and part traditional publishing company. They were offering me a discount of $1500 (that I would pay them) to publish it. They sent me a contract. I didn't like the terms. They could not be changed. I said thank you but no thank you. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I sought out information with another popular self-publishing company, who gave my ego all kinds of stroking and would be more than thrilled to publish my book for anywhere from $1500-6000 depending on what services I wanted. They were more pushy, doing the car salesman thing of "let me talk to my manager to see if I can get you a better price". I don't play that game. After doing further research, I also rejected that offer. Interestingly, the sales person sent me the vibe that I did the right thing. Not with her words at all, it's just the energetic feeling I got from her tone of voice and my intuition. Validation, I guess. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It seemed to me self-publishing should not cost thousands of dollars and then the publisher still has control of pretty much everything and royalties amount to about $1.20 per book sold if you are lucky. It's pretty hard to recoup the initial expense, let alone make money, especially when you add in your own marketing costs since they don't do that for you! This book was too important and too personal to give up control of content, the cover, the price... anything to someone who knew nothing of the content or the intended audience. Such emotional and delicate subject matter with such a niche audience. No, this was my baby... about my baby. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I also talked to one traditional small publisher. No cost to me up front but they still got most of the money from the sales, which is more appropriate than the other offers, but again, I was not willing to give up creative control for this particular book. They dealt in books close to my target audience, but still with small reach. I was close to taking this offer though, just because the pressure for editing and cover and all of that would be off. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally, after literally months of research and soul-searching, I decided to truly self-publish. I chose <a href="https://www.createspace.com/" target="_blank">CreateSpace</a>, which is an Amazon affiliate. I did this after days and weeks and months of reading and researching different options out there. My head was spinning! You know what it costs to truly self-publish? Nothing! Well, except time, which you probably have to devote more to when pursuing this route. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are other costs that are worth factoring in, like finding an editor and perhaps a cover designer. Still, it's a hell of a lot less expensive and you retain full rights, creative control, and will see a much higher royalty payment per book sold as a result. You choose the size of your book, the font, the title, the content, the price, everything. Great! So now I had a plan! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The challenge was in finding the time to do it. Writing can be time consuming. Writing about something so emotional and personal requires uninterrupted time. Research also had to be done. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are actually courses out there that teach you how to write. How to write a book proposal. How to market. How to find an agent. There are also a plethora of books out there. There are courses on how to meet media and sell your story. How to write a bio. It goes on and on. They all cost money. They may or may not help you. It depends what you need and where you can access that information. I purchased a few. To be honest, I have read nor watched many of them. A colossal waste of money. </div>
<div>
I took the <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a> challenge in November of 2013 (National Novel Writing Month) and wrote the bulk of the book then. November-December and the summer months are the only relative "down" time I have with the soccer schedule of my boys.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then I took a break. I got back to it in the spring and over the summer. I began to look for an editor. I asked friends and family and other bereaved parents to read it for me to give feedback on content and flow. Of those that even agreed to do it, only one actually read the entire book and provided the feedback. The others either couldn't get through it or didn't have the time. Most didn't even take me up on the offer. I get it. People are busy. The subject matter is very emotional. I was sad more people didn't follow through. It made me wonder if anyone would really buy it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I plowed on. I found an editor. I finished the first draft. I began incorporating the line edits. It is very tedious and time consuming work. It took months of on again, off again editing and re-editing. Then I read it again. And edited it, again. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. Over and over and over. I understand now why a good book editor can cost a few thousand dollars.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It got to the point where I couldn't get the distance I needed to do the developmental editing anymore, let alone find the few and random punctuation and grammatical or spelling/word choice errors. I again asked if people would be willing to give it a quick read for feedback. Crickets. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was on my own. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I formatted it for CreateSpace. Formatting errors then needed to be corrected and it also made for previously missed errors in punctuation and grammar easier to spot. Great! More tedious line editing. I did have the support and assistance of my tech savvy husband, which was a Godsend!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Next began a process of uploading the file to CreateSpace for approval. Their return of the proof was usually less than 24 hours, which was great. You could order a digital proof, which was free and immediately available, or you could order a printed proof of the book, which took about 5 business days expedited delivery. It's a print on demand system, so overnight or 2 day delivery really isn't an option. Cost of author copies depends on the size of the book and number of pages. You had to pay for a printed proof. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I ordered one printed proof for the first print ready upload, just to see the cover for real. It looked blurry in the PDF proof. It actually wasn't in the printed version. You can do both the printed and the digital PDF proof, which I did. So, in the meantime, other errors were found once I received the PDF print ready proof, so then I had to go back and change the original formatted word doc and re-upload it (you can't edit in their PDF proof reader). I did this 3 or 4 times before I finally hit the wall and let it go. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then there is the cover design. I am blessed and fortunate to have generous friends. Two edited it for me, one line edits only, the other both line and developmental editing. My friend Steve, who is an amazing photographer and Photoshop guru, helped me with the cover design. No, scratch that. He did the entire cover design. I just gave him my vision, he found some pictures, I chose one. I gave him the words, he did the rest. It's amazing. He kicks all kinds of cover design ass. For payment, he has requested a nice dinner with our respective significant others. Done and done. If you want to see his photos, check him out at this Flickr site <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/sdowen/">https://www.flickr.com/photos/sdowen/</a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once you approve the print ready proof in CreateSpace it's locked and cannot be changed. It is immediately available for purchase in the CreateSpace store. It took 3 days before my book was <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Out-Darkness-Recovering-Resources-Bereaved/dp/1505441315/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1419816704&sr=8-1&keywords=out+of+the+darkness+coping" target="_blank">available on Amazon</a>. <br />
<br />
The author gets a higher royalty, almost double, from the CreateSpace store than they do from Amazon sales because Amazon takes 40%. Still, it's far less than what most traditional or so called "Self" publishing houses take. Amazon is probably where the vast majority of books are sold today. It's where I buy all mine. So having my book in a brick and mortar bookstore was not necessary for me. I also didn't want the hassle of trying to sell the books on my own Website, as that adds cost, the need for a sales tax permit, shipping cost determination and challenges, and a lot of trips to the post office. I'd also have to keep an inventory, which has it's own logistical challenges.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Is the book perfect? No. I'm sure there are a few grammatical errors I missed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Is the content perfect? No. I did the best I could. If I had written about everything I wanted to and with the level of detail I would have liked, the book would be too heavy and too expensive to manage! There is some repetition, but it's intentional because of the way the book was written. It's designed to read like a conversation between the reader and I in a down to earth, person to person manner. it's also written so any chapter could stand alone. Not everyone will read it in order. Not everyone will read the entire book. Not everyone will like it. Not everyone will understand it's purpose, although I tried to make it clear from the cover copy and introduction and in my marketing efforts.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm sure with some distance and a re-read in a few months, along with feedback from readers, I will be able to see it with fresh eyes and update it if need be. Therein lies another beautiful thing about self-publishing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can always revise it! It just means while I am going through the process of revising the content, the book is unavailable for sale since it's also unavailable for printing. It means potential lost sales for a few days. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once you have published your book with CreateSpace, you have the option of converting the files to the Kindle Publishing Platform or <a href="https://kdp.amazon.com/" target="_blank">KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing)</a>. Turns out the conversion of the Word file did not prove easy. The formatting got all messed up. It had to be reformatted for Kindle, which proved to be no easy task. Thankfully, my husband is savvy because I could not have figured it out easily, if at all. He converted it to a mobi file, wrote some HTML code to make the table of contents work the way it ideally should in a mobile device or e-reader, and an entire day of reformatting later... it's 90% compatible with the most popular Kindle reading apps. It looks different in every device. What a royal PIA! There is really no way to get it perfect for all of them so far as I can tell. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, after almost 2 years since I began this process, and a very concentrated last 2 months with all kinds of glitches at the end, I am a published author. Had I known about all the formatting inconsistencies, challenges of cover design, and the likely need for multiple revisions and 24 hr lags between proof returns digitally, I'd have factored that in. I was on a self-imposed publishing deadline, which was a good thing, because otherwise it might never have gotten done! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The beauty of self-publishing is the only deadline is your own! You do need to plan ahead though as editing can take a few months for your editor and then you have to incorporate all those edits which can take weeks if not longer, depending on how much time you have to devote to it. You also have to plan for cover design, which can also be quite time consuming unless you have mad Photoshop skilz.<br />
<br />
You could hire someone to design a cover, but that will also take a month or two and add cost that must be factored in. How long it takes you to write is all up to you. Obviously, if I were not also working, being a mom, and managing an educational awareness campaign, I could have done the writing a lot faster and the same is true for editing. Then, of course, a good few weeks should be budged for unexpected glitches at the end like Kindle formatting. If you don't have the skills to understand and do the formatting, you may need to hire someone to do the conversion for you, and that adds more time and expense.<br />
<br />
Do I regret any of it? Absolutely not. While I was honored and thrilled to be offered 3 different publishing contracts, I knew in my heart of hearts, this was meant to be a truly self-published book. My goal is not to sell a million copies, although that would be nice, to know all those people are getting the information and support they need after suffering the worst loss ever. The reality is this is a book no wants to ever have to buy. It's a niche audience. It's a book hundreds of people need every single day as newly bereaved parents, and one hundreds of thousands could use because they know someone who is a bereaved parent or are one themselves who has never been offered the support and guidance or even permission to grieve. <br />
<br />
If this book helps but one person in their journey out of the darkness of grief, then it was worth every single second. <br />
<br />
If you'd like to learn more, visit<a href="http://www.outofthedarknessgriefsupport.com/" target="_blank"> http://www.outofthedarknessgriefsupport.com/</a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-24961854713770628502014-12-22T16:46:00.002-08:002014-12-22T16:46:24.805-08:00Visitor from Heaven...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When a loved one dies, certain days are harder than others, even years or decades later. Anniversaries seem to be the hardest for many. The anniversary of the day your loved one died being the most significant. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What many people don't realize is that there are many other days that may be just as significant or perhaps, even more so, especially to a parent who has lost a child.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Many people cope with these difficult days through a ritual of remembrance. It may only take a few minutes, or it may be something they devote hours or even an entire day to. It's a way to mark the day as significant. A day to honor your feelings, then and now. A way to honor your loved one and the love you shared.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today is the 10th anniversary of the day I buried my daughter. Yesterday was the anniversary of her wake. It was on the winter solstice. The solstice will forever be the day we held her calling hours. Three days before Christmas will always be the day I buried my little girl. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Not unlike a birth story, death stories need to be told. The ritualistic remembrance is not morbid or bad or a sign of not coping well. Quite the contrary. Grief keeping is healthy. It's a way of saying, "Hey, remember this person? They were significant in my life. Remember this day? This day was also very significant in my life. I want you to remember them and the significance of this day, too." </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br />You'll see a lot of grief keeping at the holidays. People posting messages to or about loved ones who have passed on, saying they miss them and love them. People posting photos of their loved one who has died. Remembrances of wonderful times they had together. Even remembrances of the times that were not so wonderful. I think this is a beautiful and healthy way to cope with your grief. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Below is a keepsake I've had for ten years. Every year, one <i>this</i> day, I watch it. The photos were taken by a friend at my request during Meghan's services. I never even noticed her presence. Others thought I was nuts to ask her or that she was nuts for doing it. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So many people want to help the newly bereaved. So many offer "If there is anything I can do..." This was one of the very few things I ever asked directly for. I'm so, so glad I had the courage and presence of mind to ask her to do it. It was a last minute decision. I don't regret anything about it. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She put together the slide show/video of her photos to the song <i>Visitor from Heaven</i> by Twila Paris. The same song was played at Meggie's funeral. It was written about the death of a child as I understand. Little did I realize at the time how grateful I would be for these photos and this keepsake. Especially all these years later. It is beautiful and powerful. I've included it below. I encourage you to watch it and listen to the words of the song. It is absolutely beautiful and so perfect for a child's memorial.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For what I notice now is not only the pain and sadness on our faces, but more remarkably, the love. I can almost feel it. Still. After a decade. Through the photos. The energy was powerful then. It is powerful today. Love...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dycyo0Pc3cAUlmSdk_qrxT0fZyk-fpNZroyZ7hmY-5RiAOCv6-ZPMhI6ikGAEQswSOYfSEXClOex6F58eUf3A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
I have an accompanying scrapbook I made of these photos, plus ones I took at the funeral home, which I go through every year on this day as well. I initially took the photos for Meghan's twin, who was only 3 at the time she died, and her brother, who was 6. I wasn't sure if they'd remember and I wanted them to have the photos to look at someday if they asked or wanted to. I wanted them to see the people who came. To see their own expressions. To see the love that was shown to us. I had no idea at the time how much it would help me then and all these years later.<br />
<br />
The act of scrapbooking the photos was also incredibly healing for me. It was not easy, but I was surrounded by good friends while I worked on it. It helped me process. It helped me heal. <br />
<br />
I realize photos or videos like this one may not be for everyone. Making a scrapbook or video slide show of your loved one in any way could be a beautiful, loving, and moving tribute to their life and your love for them. It also makes a wonderful gift for anyone who is bereaved. <br />
<br />
May you feel the light and love of your loved ones who have passed on to the next place at the holidays and always. Share your memories, a photo, their name. Share it on social media. Share it with friends and family. Open your heart. Let the love shine!Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-39501977610742261172014-12-19T07:15:00.002-08:002014-12-28T17:38:09.437-08:00Furniture safety: Activism 101 - We've come so far and yet we have so far to goAs I sit and reflect on the place I was in emotionally ten years ago today, I am filled with a combination of sadness, gratitude, and awe. <br />
<br />
This is the anniversary of the day I had to visit a funeral home, to plan my 3-year old daughter's wake and funeral. The first day I woke up without her gleeful "Moooommmmmeeeeeeeee" squeals. The first day she wasn't at the table for meals. The first day I called her name and she did not answer or come to me... This is the day friends and family came to us with heavy hearts and tear filled eyes, having no idea what to say or do, but they brought love. We needed love...<br />
<br />
What I am reflecting on today is the way in which Meghan's Hope has grown these past ten years. It was born the night she died and ten years ago, was mere hours old. The mission as clear then as it is today. Prevent any other child dying from a furniture tip-over the way Meghan did. Holes in walls and in furniture don't matter! They can be fixed! The hole in my shattered heart, dark with guilt, will never, ever be fixed. I will live the rest of my life knowing I could have done something to prevent my daughter's death. A few dollars and a few minutes was all it would have taken. If only I had known... If only I had access to the very thing that could have prevented it. Furniture straps.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX-gi06RPzJKSRnppcCoaNEMje-4s0VFCkvCVs1NAN3VTolq56A5P-PqMdA_MsGMD4zWbWp86crT4F_PraGlTgN-VrIaOSy42GvtQWtx9JbgVjEBNPC6KcLB3TsY0Xv-fxFVqRiV0FBQ/s1600/meg's%2Bdresser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX-gi06RPzJKSRnppcCoaNEMje-4s0VFCkvCVs1NAN3VTolq56A5P-PqMdA_MsGMD4zWbWp86crT4F_PraGlTgN-VrIaOSy42GvtQWtx9JbgVjEBNPC6KcLB3TsY0Xv-fxFVqRiV0FBQ/s1600/meg's+dresser.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meghan's Dresser</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2400651792180366460" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJ8LpQhUhCG0nQvsHzm1XeuqtJYH4uqkuCuhh8l0ktwg3bfMo1yv2qwJZD1edKt_8Vjd39lpp1hamvfViFO66q503vJ9Pk0Y_rMIS01HrPtP7nNgJv9uKas8cb6jJcgkINke-4OQWEkA/s1600/Safety+first+wall+strap+out+of+package.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJ8LpQhUhCG0nQvsHzm1XeuqtJYH4uqkuCuhh8l0ktwg3bfMo1yv2qwJZD1edKt_8Vjd39lpp1hamvfViFO66q503vJ9Pk0Y_rMIS01HrPtP7nNgJv9uKas8cb6jJcgkINke-4OQWEkA/s1600/Safety+first+wall+strap+out+of+package.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safety First Furniture Wall Straps</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Come hell or high water, it would be my mission that every parent know what I didn't. Hell hath no fury like a mama whose child just died. For the record, that holds true ten years later, just on a different level.<br />
<br />
I dreamed of our local community, state, and region rallying and helping us to spread the word. I dared to hope that it became a nationally recognized problem and one that the media would help us solve. I contacted TV and print media outlets asking them to help me raise awareness. Initially, there was a burst of support. A few newspaper and TV stories, some even nationally. Flyers went out. Emails were sent. Written letters of appeal were sent. There was no social media like there is today, it was word of mouth. But it quickly dwindled.<br />
<br />
We established Meghan's Hope as a 501 C3 non-profit organization. I exhibited at safety fairs and conferences. I gave out furniture straps at these events. I created all my own documents and brochures and informational presentations. I spoke about it wherever I could to whomever would listen. Still, I struggled to reach beyond our local community and even then, there was a whole lot of "it won't happen to us" going around.<br />
<br />
I truly (and naively) expected furniture and local box stores to immediately start carrying furniture straps, as people were running in with Meghan's picture asking for them. Most did not. I was shocked to discover they were made by popular childproofing companies, but not sold in stores, at least near us. Why the hell not? On-line shopping was in it's infancy when Meghan died. I had no idea these devices existed!<br />
<br />
I expected the furniture stores and box stores I wrote to to at least reply to me, and ideally, follow through on my request to post information about the dangers and sell the very straps that could prevent the type of accident that took my baby girl's life. Crickets. Not a single one responded! <br />
<br />
Congressman Jim McGovern offered to help. With his support, and that of a Congresswoman from PA, Allyson Schwartz, the Katie Elise and Meghan Agnes Act was born. It was a bill in the US house in two different sessions of Congress. In 2005 and 2007. I wrote to every member of Congress I could asking for their support. Neither bill ever got out of committee but it did get the attention of the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) and the Consumer's Union.<br />
<br />
Eventually, and painfully slowly, some of what we asked for in our bill became incorporated into a VOLUNTARY furniture safety standard written by ASTM. It continues to be revised periodically. It's not ideal in my eyes yet, but at least progress is being made. In 2009 tip-restraints being sold with certain types of storage furniture have been part of the standard. <br />
<br />
There is, however, no testing or requirements for that restraining device, so it may or may not actually safely hold the weight of the furniture! Honestly, I rarely use the device sold with the furniture, even though it brings tears to my eyes when I see one included, my little girl was a part of that... I don't trust the cable ties or plastic L brackets to hold a 100+ pound piece of furniture, full of stuff and with a child pulling or climbing or bumping in to it accidentally. No way. I think they are creating a false sense of security for parents and setting manufacturers up for lawsuits that way.<br />
<br />
There needs to be testing of the straps with that specific piece of furniture or at least some standardized testing of the restraining devices. Both the ones sold with furniture and the ones available from the childproofing manufacturers. There are very few with documented weight capacities. No certification or description of how that weight capacity was determined. Was it tested? How? With all types of furniture? With a giant weight? What if it's pushed? Pulled? Climbed on? Bumped into? Or is it just your best guess?<br />
<br />
Parents should not be left to play a guessing game. While any restraining device is better than no restraining device they are not created equal. In fact I adamantly recommend against any cable tie type restraint. They become brittle and crack. They likely won't hold a heavy piece of furniture, loaded with stuff, and with a child on it. In fact I had a set of Mommy's Helper straps (cable tie style) on my son's dresser after Meghan died. While showing them to a TV news crew a few months later, one had broken! I almost had a heart attack when I saw it. His dresser was not safe, even though I thought it was safely secured. ATTENTION FURNITURE AND RESTRAINING DEVICE MANUFACTURERS: THIS IS NOT OKAY!<br />
<br />
I don't understand why this is not already part of the standard. I don't understand how childproofing suppliers or furniture manufacturers can sell a safety device that has not been tested. Forget potential litigation for failure of the device to work. What about social responsibility? What about protecting children? Any cost manufacturers concur could be passed on to the consumer, or, perhaps taken out of the CEO's bonus check at the end of the year. <br />
<br />
Let's forget about profits or inconvenience or expense. It's about lives. Imagine for a moment that it's your child or grandchild that this device is protecting. Because it is. Do you want to take that gamble? What makes you think your child won't be one of the 71 injured every day in a tip-over accident? What makes you think your child won't be the one to die like Meghan did? If you think it won't be yours, and/or you do nothing to protect them, you are a fool. Yeah, remember that hell hath no fury? She's me and she tells it to you straight. Used to get me in trouble all the time as a kid. Maybe now, it will motivate people to act. It will save a life...<br />
<br />
I am beyond thrilled to be collaborating with the CPSC on their Anchor-it tip-over awareness campaign. They recognize the dangers and the need to get the information to parents. <br />
<br />
The thing is, it's not just parents that need to know. It's not just our homes that we need to be concerned about tip-overs in. Yes, they are of the utmost importance, because we all have furniture and we all have TV's and they ALL need to be safely and properly secured to the walls.<br />
<br />
But there is also unsecured furniture and TV's everywhere our children go; in our schools, in our churches and religious halls, in hotel rooms, at recreational facilities, and in stores. The wall of TV's at any box store gives me panic attacks! <br />
<br />
There is also the often overlooked danger to adults, especially our elderly. Not only in their homes but in assisted living facilities, senior centers, elderly housing and nursing homes/rehab facilities. They are often less mobile, less agile, tend to have a lot more clutter, and have large furniture and TV's that are not secured and on inappropriately sized devices. They are at risk, too. The armories, dressers, and entertainment units in elderly facilities should be secured! Elders should be made aware of the risk in their own homes not only to themselves but to their grandchildren and great grandchildren. <br />
<br />
We have a long way to go in raising awareness. <br />
<br />
I spend a lot of time on Meghan's Hope. I'm a one mama show. I receive no financial compensation. My "pay" is knowing someone "listened to Meggie." My return on investment is people sharing Meghan's Hope, doing that news story I requested, selling restraining devices in your stores, handing out our brochures, taking action and securing furniture and TV's to the walls. Invite me to present to your organization or group. Interview me. Talk to me. Listen to Meggie!<br />
<br />
It's a difficult job, especially since it doesn't pay my bills, so I need to do it in my "free" time, which as a mom of 2 boys, is not a whole lot! I'd do it full time if I could, but I can't. I do need to pay the mortgage and put food on the table. I need to support my boys in their educational and extracurricular endeavors. <br />
<br />
I'm not the only parent doing this. Others have lost their children the same way and they, too, are trying to raise awareness. There are small communities all over the country who have a heightened awareness, but it's so hard to break those barriers and cross state lines. Go national. Go global. Be heard.<br />
<br />
In the past 2 years, with the advent of social media, and especially Facebook, Meghan's hope has taken off. A viscerally raw and emotional blog post I wrote went around the world. Awareness started to spread. People started to listen and act. Still, the statistics are sobering. Children are still being injured. Adults are still being injured. People are still dying. Not enough people are sharing. Not enough people are taking the risk seriously.<br />
<br />
Why? Is it fear? Is it ignorance? Is it poor marketing skills? For the love of God, why are people not hearing the message and if they are, and not taking action, why? Please tell me, so I know how to help them understand. <br />
<br />
More needs to be done. I can't do it alone. I'm so grateful for everyone who has shared and helped us along the way. I'm so grateful for the support of the CPSC and other organizations who recognize the danger and are taking steps to raise awareness at a national level and beyond. Who are supporting Meghan's Hope and I am grateful for the recognition of the work I've done. I just wish it was more successful...<br />
<br />
Activism is not for the faint of heart. It's a labor of love. Believe me, I'd much rather be mothering Meggie by taking her to dance class instead of through Meghan's Hope. But now, it's the only way I can. And so it is.<br />
<br />
Save a life. Secure your furniture and your TV's today. All of them. Then do the same at your parent's house. Inquire at your child's pre-school, school, after school program or day care, church and gym child care, the nursing home your parents or grandparents are in. Be proactive. <br />
<br />
Need a stocking stuffer? Furniture and TV straps make great gifts! Offering to install them for a family member or friend, even better! <br />
<br />
Anchor it today. Tomorrow may not come...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-4286291578210083732014-12-18T12:18:00.003-08:002014-12-28T17:38:43.397-08:00A Letter to Meggie on her 10th Angelversary<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dear Meggie,</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e4f91513-5f08-84fa-cf4e-ef6b789e57f8" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I sit in your bedroom on this, the 10th anniversary of your death, I find myself thinking not only of your short three years here on earth, but wondering what you would be like today, had the unthinkable not happened. Who would you be? What would you have become? You would be a teenager now! </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your twin brother is thirteen. He is growing like the proverbial weed. Ky-ole is over 6 feet and already a junior in high school! How tall would you be now? What would you look like? What would your voice sound like? Would your eyes still hold that same wisdom? Would the boys be chasing you or would you be chasing them? Never mind, I already know the answer to that one...</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I gaze at the little lock of hair tied with a pink ribbon the nurses gave us the day you died. I can’t help but wonder, would your hair be long or would you prefer a pixie cut? You never were one for keeping the “pretties” in for very long. I wonder if your hair would still be that beautiful golden blonde or if it would have darkened like both of your brothers’ hair did. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Would you be a girly-girl or more of a casual tomboy? You liked to dress up but you also liked to be naked just as much! You loved both your Tinker Bell jammies and your dinosaur jammies. Your grandmothers would have kept you well supplied with girly clothes whether you liked it or not! </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I glance at the finger paintings and drawings you made, I can’t help but wonder, would you have been an artist? You loved to paint! You were very crafty. Your hand and foot prints look so tiny now. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember how active and busy you were. Would you be a dancer, gymnast, or soccer player like your brothers are? I bet you’d have done all three of them! Or, maybe you’d have done something entirely different. My money is on gymnast. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Would you still have a love of kitties, all things pink and sparkly, and Tinker Bell, or, would your tastes have changed? Would you still be silly and playful? I hope so. I bet you would be. Bampy would make sure you didn’t lose that! </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Would you enjoy running 5k’s with your mother in silly costumes or would you roll your eyes in embarrassment like the boys do now? You always did run fast! I probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. I can’t keep up with your brothers, either. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What would dinner time be like if you were here? Would the family dynamic be significantly different? Would you still like Veggie Booty? Does anyone else even eat Veggie Booty? </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you continued to command attention the way you used to, I’m sure it would be different! You would have had your big brothers both wrapped around your little finger! I bet there would be a lot more arguments about which movie we watch or what game we play. Your brothers would have learned so much more about dealing with girls… and young women. No doubt, you’d have set them straight and kept them in line. They would have been fiercely protective of you, too. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wonder if it would have been a Frozen Christmas this year… Maybe we all would have gone to the Village for Christmas. Auntie T would have totally sucked you in to glow with the show ears at Disney World! Grammie and Bampy probably would have spent an arm and a leg to take you to the Bippidi Boppity Boutique so you could be a princess. We would have had matching Tinker Bell wings and wands! :-)</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Speaking of Christmas, I know the joy of the season would be back if you were still with us. So much of the joy and sparkle of the season died with you. It’s been such a struggle to get it back. I try, but it’s so hard. I know you send love and light every year, and occasionally throw down an angel or an ornament just to let us know your playful side is still with us. Still, we miss you so much it hurts. It literally hurts. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead of holding a photograph of you for the big family picture, I wish I was holding you. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s so hard to believe it’s been ten years Meggie. There are so many things I thought we’d share together that we’ve already missed. The double birthday celebrations and parties for you and Ry. The first days of school and the last days of school. Holidays and birthdays and gatherings with friends. Family vacations and summer day trips. The dance recitals and sporting events we never got the chance to share. Trips to Disney. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And now, all I have to look forward to are more milestones without you. I won’t ever get to celebrate the rites of passage into womanhood with you. I’ll never have the opportunity to teach you to drive. I won’t get to see you grow into the amazingly beautiful and bright woman I know you would have been. I won’t see you graduate, get married, or have your own children. There will be no mother daughter mani-pedis, or girls only shopping trips. No prom, no first dates, no bridal or baby showers… I’ll never be the mother of the bride. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead, I spend all of these transitional moments missing you. Every holiday. Every milestone your brothers reach. Every milestone I reach. Every milestone you should have reached. Every Mother’s Day. Every day. Wondering who you would be at each of them. How it would be different if you were still here with us. Feeling the pain of your absence.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am alone in my pain of missing you, because it, like you, is invisible. At least most of the time. Others can’t see it, or don’t understand it, so they don’t acknowledge it. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Ry gets his learner’s permit I will cry. When he graduates, I will cry. When he goes to his first formal dance, I will cry. When he marries, I will cry. When your brothers achieve all of their milestones, I will cry. Tears of happiness for him. Tears of sadness for me, because there is forever one, where two should always have been. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How will Ry feel? Will he miss sharing these moments with his twin sister? Does he wonder what it would be like if you were still his best friend? His telepathic partner in mischief? What would your twinship be like now? Would you still insist “Ry Ry did it?” He’d probably deny it now… I think he’d catch on eventually. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How will Kyle feel? Does he ever think about what life would be like now with his “baby” sister? How it would be different? </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The world will forever see I have 2 boys where 2 boys and a beautiful little girl should have been. Some will know what is missing. Most will not. I will always know. I will always miss you. It will always hurt. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All I can do now is hope that wherever you are, you are at peace. You are happy. You are free. You are flying with the angels. I hope your wings are sparkly! I hope you can feel the love we hold in our hearts for you here. We can feel the love you send us. Keep it coming! </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You always wanted to fly high in the sky…</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Happy 10th Angelversary my sweet baby girl. May your wings help you soar high and free. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kiss.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hug.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Snuggle.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Love,</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mommy</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3X1RtaZchvbEiYsCOAZ-a6Fz1zUrtByP30bOQ8T1MYleRAQSJ5fvoranf_Dv8bSC7LanE6UkF64v_2pyb7gYfkp86fTH7VXSIsGm_QRlFCvyJTd_VFb2F0JO8ea74n7TTBNifXe5NSPQ/s1600/perhaps+they+are+not+stars....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3X1RtaZchvbEiYsCOAZ-a6Fz1zUrtByP30bOQ8T1MYleRAQSJ5fvoranf_Dv8bSC7LanE6UkF64v_2pyb7gYfkp86fTH7VXSIsGm_QRlFCvyJTd_VFb2F0JO8ea74n7TTBNifXe5NSPQ/s1600/perhaps+they+are+not+stars....jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkiioch7I-WVMaWRWAvPjn6HXNrGf9cxNXEPRURnmOX3EWnq_QM5YcsjQ9Geh0o6kdxgFd1wP1AymRSKAn_LCkDyfNcWj4fqwb6x7J3Ap_ODU2bNfikfasdFd96o7PAoiWjiBeIRJl-Rk/s1600/someone+in+heaven+loves+me+i+am+their+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkiioch7I-WVMaWRWAvPjn6HXNrGf9cxNXEPRURnmOX3EWnq_QM5YcsjQ9Geh0o6kdxgFd1wP1AymRSKAn_LCkDyfNcWj4fqwb6x7J3Ap_ODU2bNfikfasdFd96o7PAoiWjiBeIRJl-Rk/s1600/someone+in+heaven+loves+me+i+am+their+mom.jpg" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2400651792180366460.post-50682848379067755652014-12-16T17:49:00.002-08:002014-12-16T17:58:12.266-08:00I gave birth today! It was a long labor of love...I gave birth today. <br />
<br />
It was the longest labor I've ever endured. <br />
<br />
Like all labors, it was born of love. A love story between a mother and a daughter. The contractions were difficult and painful at times. The process long. The rest periods between the contractions welcome opportunities to recharge, collect myself, shift my focus and redirect myself to my purpose. <br />
<br />
Transition was fast and furious these past few months, with everything falling into place and happening in the way you dream of. Until the very end. Surprises. Unexpected changes in plan. Stuck at 10 centimeters for so... very... long. Interventions needed? No, just wait patiently and let the process unfold. Don't rush it, Kim. All in good time.<br />
<br />
Time to reflect...<br />
Unlike other labors, my gift was not a beautiful child. No, I already had that. She died almost 10 years ago. My labor began the day she died. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rD5gTVTql0J6aEGsTHqrNKaCDAS4CFq4m4uvHapdlp9Ja5sbBf8VizfKD8HwdeBWIbLPvKHMggqrPrT0QX1gxzSCUP2Mea4Ts6GwusaXYwq7JhhBWIafKcdZwIoJxByHJMO-X0eo5k8/s1600/I+thought+of+you+today....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rD5gTVTql0J6aEGsTHqrNKaCDAS4CFq4m4uvHapdlp9Ja5sbBf8VizfKD8HwdeBWIbLPvKHMggqrPrT0QX1gxzSCUP2Mea4Ts6GwusaXYwq7JhhBWIafKcdZwIoJxByHJMO-X0eo5k8/s1600/I+thought+of+you+today....jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The day my daughter died, I was thrown into a deep, dark, abyss where a storm raged in and around me, relentlessly. It hurt. So. Damn. Much. How I didn't die myself from the pain of a broken heart is beyond me. It was a dark, lonely, confusing place. I felt as if I'd never find my way out. I didn't think there was a way out. I didn't really care at that point.<br />
<br />
What began in part as a letter written to her to foster an ongoing relationship, was coupled with an advocacy and awareness campaign. For the past ten years I have tirelessly devoted as much of my free time as I can to trying to prevent the same tragedy that took my daughter's life from happening to any other child.<br />
<br />
Slowly, I began to emerge from that abyss. The storm subsided. At least for periods of time. When another storm came along, it didn't last as long and I was learning how to ride out the storms. The darkness began to fade. Things were more gray. Then, a glimmer of light. Of hope. Of... happiness? Over time, color began to creep back in to my life.<br />
<br />
Yet there was still a broken heart inside this mama. Still a strong and passionate drive to prevent other children from dying the way my daughter did. I was frustrated. No one seemed to be listening to Meggie.<br />
<br />
Two years ago, a breakthrough. A post, right here, about the day she died, was the cry heard around the world. A call to action from a deeply bereaved parent. Social media was the vehicle that carried my voice, my emotion, my pain, my pleas. It resonated with literally millions of parents around the world. They answered the call. They shared Meghan's story. They secured their furniture and their TV's. They joined the community of Meghan's Hope on Facebook. They became more aware of potential hazards to children and how to fix or prevent them.<br />
<br />
Among the thousands of messages were messages of thanks from fellow bereaved parents. They identified with the emotions I wrote about. The pain I still feel. The way their family and friends didn't "get" their pain and their grief. Some told me things they had never told anyone else, because they were afraid they were broken. They were afraid others wouldn't listen. They didn't think anyone cared. <br />
<br />
I began to write more. I had long wanted to write a book about Meggie and I. The book I wrote was not the book I thought I would write. The book I wrote was the book I wish someone had handed me the day I walked out of the hospital 10 years ago without my daughter... forever. It was the guide I wish I had all these years. The guide I wish my friends and family had then... and now. <br />
<br />
A parent's grief never ends. It changes over time, but we never "get over" the death of our children. There is nothing that eases that hole in our hearts, that empty chair at our holiday table, or the name called that will forever go unanswered. <br />
<br />
It's a journey. It will continue to be a journey. It has hills and valleys. Sunshine and storms. I am not "cured". Grief is not something that you can cure or fix. I am healing. I am integrating. I am memory keeping. It's about love.<br />
<br />
Today, the fruits of that labor, of the past ten years, was born. That book was published. It's aptly called Out of the Darkness: Coping With and Recovering From the Death of a Child<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2400651792180366460" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtOVQud0JCw5GicKc7eepALrC6DdiYVeCuY0SlYfvGPIsC0g44yFGvLJLXehAIGK1m60y6JVwSbGorhR66WR_CfQpfqx1H4tPM3HY82pp-710CD1sNIbvBBtZSrZ9sRcH9QacUCUBV0M/s1600/COVER_ONLY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtOVQud0JCw5GicKc7eepALrC6DdiYVeCuY0SlYfvGPIsC0g44yFGvLJLXehAIGK1m60y6JVwSbGorhR66WR_CfQpfqx1H4tPM3HY82pp-710CD1sNIbvBBtZSrZ9sRcH9QacUCUBV0M/s1600/COVER_ONLY.jpg" height="200" width="138" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
You'd think I would be elated. I'm a published author. A dream come true. A major goal fulfilled. On some level, I am. I feel accomplished. It was a long journey. It began with NaNoWriMo in 2013. I wrote the bulk of the manuscript then. Then it sat for a while. Many hours of writing and many more of tedious line and developmental editing followed over the past year. Many hours of sleep lost. Many social invitations declined to meet deadlines. Many amazing friends and family to help and support me along the way. It feels... wonderful to finally hold your own book in your hands. <br />
Yet the tears fall today. They are not tears of joy. They are tears of bittersweet pain. People are listening to Meggie now. <a href="http://www.meghanshope.org/" target="_blank">Meghan's Hope</a> is a world-wide go to resource for furniture and tip-over safety. I am so very grateful for that. Meggie's beautiful face and heartbreaking story are saving lives. She's so amazing. The tears are because of the painful fact that this book would never have been written by me if my beautiful daughter had not died. THAT still hurts like hell.<br />
<br />
And by tears, I mean sobbed. Over the past several days I have cried some of the longest, most painful tears of the past ten years. I've cried in public, in my car, at my computer, in my husband's arms, and when I opened the box that held the physical proof of my book. I cried when I hit the publish button on CreateSpace today. Hell, I'm fighting tears now. All the emotion, the pain, and even the gratitude in my heart, the stress and challenges of the past several months just burst forth like a tsunami. Of course part of my goal was to publish it before Meggie's 10th Angelversary. It is in two days...<br />
<br />
I want nothing more than for no other parent to ever know what that pain is like. I want parents to have the information and resources they need to keep their kids safe. For those that do know this pain of losing a child, I want them to know they are not alone. I want those that love them to know how to help them. I want them to have the information and resources they need to heal. I want us, as a society, to learn how to "do" grief, not fear or avoid the work it demands. The work required for us to heal. We're in it together. All of us. <br />
<br />
And by us, I mean you. Everyone knows a bereaved parent, whether you realize it or not. There are people in your life who have miscarried, had babies born still, who lost children to cancer, accidents, suicide, and murder. Not everyone talks about it, but you all know at least one person, I promise you. They all want you to acknowledge their pain and their child. Someone has to get the word out. One of those someones is me.<br />
<br />
44,000 parents lose children in the US every year and that's just the children under 19. It's millions world-wide annually. That doesn't even include the countless parents who lose adult children every year, who hurt as much as those who lose young children. A parent's grief is a parent's grief. it doesn't matter how old the child was when they died or the circumstances of their death. Their child is gone and it's so, so wrong. This book is needed by so many... <br />
<br />
It was hard to allow myself to give the final approval and release the book. I know I could do better. Write more. Improve the content. What if it's not good enough? What if I forgot something that is important? I know I couldn't include everything, no one would be able to lift a book that full. That's the Virgo perfectionist in me. That's what second editions are for, right? Self-publishing was my only comfortable option. I had other traditional contract offers. I was not willing to give up creative control, not for this deeply personal project they knew nothing about. It was worth every second and every challenge I encountered.<br />
<br />
It is my greatest hope that this book helps even just one bereaved parent or one loved one trying to understand and help them through their journey. If that one person is helped, it will have been worth all the hours, all the tears... it would mean that someone knows they are not alone. That there is hope. There are resources. There is a way out of the darkness. A way to incorporate your grief into your life and move forward. It's so hard to see that in the beginning.<br />
<br />
So, now that I've given birth, it's time to mother and nurture this baby. Please, share it with your friends and family. Gift it to a parent or grandparent or friend or family member of someone who has lost a child. Read it yourself to glean a better understanding about coping with grief of any kind. We will all lose someone we love someday. Being prepared is far better for effective coping. Trust me. I know. <br />
<br />
If you read it, I'd love your feedback. You can find out more about the book and where to buy it at the <a href="http://www.outofthedarknessgriefsupport.com/" target="_blank">Out of the Darkness Grief Support Website</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Out-of-the-Darkness/285668381642776?ref=bookmarks" target="_blank">Facebook Page.</a><br />
<br />
Thank you for your support.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02168884410153801082noreply@blogger.com1