“Courage is a wind chime in a storm.  It is loud and singing about a safer tomorrow.”

                                  ~ a favourite quote inspired by Maya Angelou

A couple of weeks ago some friends of mine celebrated an anniversary. 

Five years since her son fell ill, then immediately afterward was diagnosed with Acute Lymphasetic Leukemia.  I remember the emails asking for everyone she knew to keep them in thoughts and prayers that he would keep his strength up through the weekend, that his survival depended on it.  I read those emails, and my heart fell to the floor.  I remember how hard I hugged my nine month old baby, my firstborn.   Her son had just turned two.

The road they faced was long, bleak and hard.  And there were no shortcuts, no easy meanders off the hard trail.  She was a single mom.  Her son, very ill.  And as fate would have it, she had been accepted to attend university that coming fall, having decided it was time to pursue an engineering degree.  I thought, I’m sure we all thought…why them?  Why now?  How is this possible?  But she told me that the reason she had wanted to go to school was so that she could provide a better life for her son.  And that need still existed, so whether she was at work or at school, in some way they would be separated during the day.  She decided to start her degree because when her son got better she would still want that better life for him.

Imagine.  Being dealt such enormous news, not being sure what the outcome would be, yet two months later buying books and taking on the challenge of a degree program because you were strong or stubborn enough to imagine a future without the sickness, without the chemo.  Having the guts to imagine that you could be strong in all directions, throwing off cautions and flipping a giant bird to fate. 

Fast forward through the years of chemo, of hospital visits, of exams and classes and grandmas helping out with childcare.  Fast forward through the struggle, the sleepless nights.  Fast forward through scholarships, through good grades.  Through a boy growing stronger, through milestones passed and a disease held at bay.  Fast forward through the meeting of someone who would become her other half, who would become and help create their family.  Through a boy growing up, getting smarter and stronger and more handsome by the year.  Skip past more good grades, another scholarship, an engagement. 

Two weeks ago, they celebrated five years gone by since the day he was diagnosed.  He is officially in remission, and is busy enjoying all the things other kids take for granted.  She has a year of school left, is engaged to be married, and the three of them together are a great, happy family living in a house they bought last year.  A better life.  A safer tomorrow.  It’s already here…and it will only get better. 

So this is just to recognize the occasion, to say to my friend – I noticed.  I saw you take fate and future in your own two hands and decide you would be stronger.  I have been amazed, and continue to be amazed, at the courage and strength you show.  And that whenever I read that quote about wind chimes, I always think of you and your son.

I’ll leave you all with the quote she has posted on her Facebook page:

“If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them… We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell.”

                                  ~ Lance Armstrong

Hi all!

Just a little hello, and a welcome to the sweet new look my blog will be sporting from now on!  Doesn’t it just make you want to pour a cup of coffee and get cozy? 

Special thanks to 3Fish Media who are my first and only resource for web/media help. 

Have a lovely weekend!

Life has a way

of stripping away the nonessentials

one birthday at a time

until we’re left

with our real selves,

unashamed before the world,

refined by experience,

shaped by the things

we’ve learned

and the passions we’ve pursued…

 And finally,

we know what we know,

and we love

what we love,

and we still have

this precious thing called time.

And it’s enough.

It’s more than enough.”

                                         ~author unknown

The above is my favourite quote to read on my own birthday.  It’s also my favourite thing to share with other people when their day arrives.  It reminds me that no matter how old I am, or who I am becoming, that there is still time to do what I want.  I don’t have an issue with age in the classic sense, in fact, I like who I am more now than I did in my younger years.  The number isn’t what bothers me, nor do a few lines that remind me of the biggest smiles and best laughs I’ve had.  What bothers me is the feeling that I haven’t done everything yet, that I want to do and be so much more…and go so many more places.  No matter how content I am with the status quo, you can bet I’m always three steps ahead in my brain, figuring out what lies ahead.

Today is my birthday.  I always say I don’t like my birthday, but the truth is I actually do.  I love all the well wishes, the people that take a moment to send a little message or note.  It’s like, for that moment, one more person in the world held you in their hand and thought something happy for you.  And in a world like the one we live in today, that’s got to be a good thing, right?  So.  I do really like all of that, I just have never been one for big celebrations.  Send me an email, send me some love, just don’t take me out and sing to me in a restaurant or bar, because oh my chocolate, so not my thing.

When I was young I used to write birthday lists.  You know, gift ideas for my family so they would know what to get me.  (Hey, after you get asked and asked, you figure they’re looking for help!)  And funny, any time I didn’t put up a list, my family would always comment and hint and say they were waiting to see the list.  I was always happy to oblige.

Then I moved out, started making my own money and the birthday lists stopped.  I am not really very good at receiving gifts, anyway.  When I was young and had lots of things I wanted and couldn’t pay for, it was great, but now?  I can buy what I want.  And I don’t need gifts to know who loves me.  Tell me you wish me well, send me warm fuzzies, spend time with me (whether on that day or another) – these are the things that make a birthday real to me.  A card in the mail from someone I really love that made me misty last week?  Better than a gift.  After that, any time they asked, I couldn’t come up with answers. 

What do I want?  What do I need? 

Nothing I can list on a piece of paper or that can be bought in any store.   Today I look at the life around me and see so many things I never guessed I would have.  I have this great, full life and awesome people to share it with.  It’s not that I don’t have irritations or things I wish I could change or that my life is perfect.  It just means that if I look around, there is so much more good than not.  I already have enough.

The only wish I have had lately was to spend more time writing, more time working.  To find a little more “grown up me” time now that my kids are getting more independent.  I wasn’t sure what this would look like, but knew something was coming.  I just had to be ready.   And the last two months have brought me an amazing community management job and writing opportunities with some really wonderful people over at EverythingMom…I couldn’t have predicted it or asked for it, but now it feels like home.  I have also started doing some freelance writing work on the side for WriteSourcing, and again, the chance to work with someone I like makes me feel so fortunate.

So again, this year, I can’t think of anything I want or need.  I can’t even imagine how to hold all the good that’s already come into my life lately.  I’m enjoying all my birthday wishes, messages and love today…and know that if you sent one, for a moment I held you in my hand and thought something happy for you too.

Tiny onesies, wee sleepers, piles of pink and blue.  A collection of infant carseats and other scattered baby items.  Extra diapers in assorted sizes.  I have kept them all.

Even as we prepared for our recent move, I refused to get rid of any of our baby items.  Our second was just over a year, and what a blissful year it had been.  I was shocked to find myself considering another baby.  For someone who once upon a time wasn’t sure she wanted any, thoughts of adding a third were very surprising indeed.  At any rate, I couldn’t make such an enormous decision in the middle of a move.  Slightly embarrassed, I stuck to my guns.  No decision would be made until we were settled in our new home.

And now?  For the most part, we are settled.  We are happy with our move back to our hometown, a routine is slowly taking shape and the two kids we have are happy, healthy and bringing us great joy.

Two years ago, I was about four and a half months pregnant with our second baby.  I was ecstatic to be so blessed.  My first pregnancy, the one that brought us our son, was a road we had walked so easily.   However, the road became distinctly less smooth as we walked it to reach our daughter, our lovely second baby.  We learned how precious the life we were trying to create really was.

I loved being pregnant.  With both my children, it felt like a miracle.  Pregnant with my first, I remember joking “It’s like having a hidden superpower!  I can make people!”

And when our second babe was four months old, deliciously cuddly and sleeping such long hours…well, I couldn’t get enough of her.  She had the perfect peach fuzzy head, and was so content; I thought…I could do this again.  Maybe a third?  What if?  Maybe this was our destiny, a houseful of children.

And yet, here we are.  We have a sweet and smart boy who will be six come fall, so full of imagination and laughter.  And we have a bright spark of a little girl, 19 months old, who charms everyone and makes us laugh like crazy.  They adore each other, and we them.  My mind and heart almost cannot hold how fortunate we are.  I look at them and know that there are no dreams I have that are unrealized, that these two beautiful children complete our family.

As much as I miss that little peach fuzzy head and the sweetness of my babes when they were small; I look forward to our future with these two.  I can’t wait to travel more easily with them and to have them take in all that the world has to offer.  I’d like to talk with them and hear what they think of this big, crazy planet.  And there are days when I’d trade our lovely long afternoon naptime for two kids who could go all day and take in outings longer than three hours. 

I do not wish away these young years, yet I wonder at starting it all over again.  Something inside tells me we might have our perfect family already.  Two years ago, at 22 weeks pregnant with our second baby, I looked like this.  And I am left to wonder, will I again?  Or are the two we have more than enough?

(My only belly shot:  a cute, but fuzzy pic of me taken for friends out of town who were sad to be missing seeing me pregnant.)

Last year, after a frazzled start to fall, I posted the following on Twitter:  “I’m declaring November ‘Take Care of Me’ month so I don’t go into December totally depleted.  Who’s with me?”  I got reply after reply.  I was amazed.  I tried again later…and again, moms were retweeting it with an “I’m in!” and “ME!” 

I realized that we were all doing it.  Every time a child’s needs change, or something new needs doing for someone else, we make it happen.  We make time.  We stay up late, we sacrifice sleep or leisure time and get it done.  Yet we endlessly cut corners on the things we do to stay healthy and happy.

I’m a mom of two, and they keep me hopping.  We just moved, we own our own business and I just started a new job; I need multiple to-do lists to get it all done in our busy household.  Lack of sleep, busy days, jam-packed schedules:  all of these things add up to a frazzled mummy who isn’t giving or getting her best.

So here’s what I decided to do.  I hate the feeling of deprivation that comes with immediately stopping all indulgences.  I always found it hard to stay positive.   This time I’m going at it from a different angle.  I am adding in good habits, and as I go along, they will crowd out the bad ones.  That way, my focus is on what I am adding, rather than what I am taking away.

My goal is to add each good habit one at a time.  At first it will be things that don’t hurt.  Taking vitamins.  Tea or water mixed with juice in the afternoons instead of more coffee with cream, sugar and usually chocolate.  Club soda and reduced calorie juice instead of pop.  Increasing the  vegetables in my lunch, and remembering how I used to love fruit.  Nibble chocolate chips instead of eating whole chocolate bars.

As my energy returns and these become second nature, I will be more prepared for the challenges ahead:  getting more sleep, getting friendly with my elliptical trainer again and cutting back on my sweets.

In short, I decided that declaring a “Take Care of Me” month was just another symptom of the care I wasn’t willing to give myself.  I’ve decided to aim higher.  I’m declaring this my “Take Care of Me” life.

Who’s with me?

This piece was originally published by The Yummy Mummy Club, a great website created by Erica Ehm.  Fun for yummy mummies (and delicious daddies)! 

http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/take_care_of_me_jen_taylor