Holding on Tightly

You know that feeling you have as the roller coaster jerks upward, clickety-clacking toward the top of the first "hill" of the ride? You're excited, you're nervous, you have no idea what is on the other side. A giant drop? A small little wave? A curve that will jerk you every which way? Your hands grasp firmly to the handlebar over your lap, your legs might tighten, you might lean in to your riding partner, you are anxiously smiling with a clenched jaw, and you're holding on tightly, bracing yourself for what is to come.

That's how I felt tonight at our preschool's celebration event. It's the end of another great year for my little boys, and we gathered together for the fourth year in a row with this extended family of ours to celebrate our babies' successes and milestones. Each class sings a song of friendship or gratitude, and the parents in the audience reflect on a year of great growth for their littlest children. Maybe their baby overcame separation anxiety. Maybe he learned to talk that year. Maybe she potty-trained or tried new foods or found a best friend. Maybe he overcame his fear of the stage or of fire drills. Maybe he learned to control his temper or found a love for books or music or arts and crafts. Maybe she learned to assert herself or ask for help when she needs it. Whatever the milestone, we are all there reminiscing about our sweet little ones and how far they've come in a school year's time. 

Tonight, I was doing all of that for Knox and for Quinn. But, I was also feeling the fear of what is to come, and I was holding on so tightly to the memories, the huge gains I've seen in my boys, and remembering the four years of Quinn's adventures in preschool. He got there all too quickly, and he's leaving even faster. We've been bracing ourselves for this emotional night for a couple weeks since Quinn has been grappling with his fears, worries, excitement, and concerns about Kindergarten. He knows he is ready. Academically, he will excel, we have no doubt. Socially, he will make friends and be a kind friend to all. Emotionally, though, he is a bit of his mama's son, and he is nervous about change. He has come home telling us about the words to his "Celebration Class" song ("Wherever I Go" from Hannah Montana):

Here we are now. Everything's about to change. We face tomorrow as we say goodbye to yesterday. A chapter ending but the story's only just begun. A page is turning for everyone. So I'm moving on, letting go. Holding on to tomorrow. I've always got the memories while I'm finding out who I'm gonna be. We might be apart, but I hope you always know you'll be with me wherever I go.

I could go on and list the second verse of the song, but you get the point. It's an emotional song, and my emotional, sensitive kiddo knows and feels those words. So, when he would come home and tell me, "Mommy, the words to my Celebration song make me sad," I knew he might struggle as the event came closer. I've tried not to let him think too much about it, but he would continue to bring up his feelings during bed time the last couple weeks, "Mommy, I"m happy and I'm sad about leaving Anshai," "Mommy, I'm nervous about Kindergarten," "I've been at Anshai for a long time, and it's going to be hard to leave." He is well aware of this chapter in his life ending, and he is fully feeling it.

So, tonight, as we got in the car to go back up to school, he said, "Mommy, I'm feeling a little nervous." I told him that is very normal, and it's okay to feel that way. I gave him some tools to try- breathing through it, holding his hands together, distracting himself with other friends and conversations, listening to what the teacher says, etc. And as we walked in to his classroom, he asked me to tell his teacher how he was feeling. She took him under her wing, and he separated from me just fine. But, a few lines into his first (of three) songs, he was tearing up, covering his face, and before long, sitting in the teacher's lap. He was able to get himself back together for the second song, but he was very anxious and didn't want to go back up there at all. I had a brief chat with him - reminding him that this is the only chance he'll get to sing, and I didn't want him to regret not singing with his class, not participating. I went and sat very close to the stage, and again, I held on tightly - hoping he could muster the calm to get through the tears and anxieties.

By the end of the last song, he was fine, and even later after dinner, he was having a great time with his buddies he's known since before he was 2, taking pictures with former teachers, smiling with his "girlfriend" as she came up to tell him "Congratulations, Quinn!" (oh, be still my heart!), and acting silly and rambunctious as usual. His teachers were able to speak directly to each PreK student "graduating" tonight, and he was fidgety and swinging his arms as he listened nervously to his teachers' words. We took a few more photos, and we reminisced about how he used to run along the sidewalk with his buddies when we'd pick him up from the 2's class, how he used to have such a hard time separating from us when he was in the toddler class, how he was one of the only kiddos talking so well at not even 2-years-old, how he'll miss the games Ms. Rachel would play with the celebration class, how he used to be afraid to go to Hebrew class or wouldn't sing the Bear Hunt song.

And there I was again, holding on tightly. Holding on as I wanted the roller coaster to just halt, stop dead in its tracks so that time would just hold still a little longer - let me embrace the safety of this side of the coaster where he has felt safe and I know what to expect and where he's my little preschooler. I want to hold tightly to the memories, the people, the littleness of him, this chapter in his life, the friendships and relationships I'VE made through 4 of his 5-and-a-half years.

So, tonight we celebrated how my little toddler grew up at this school he has grown to love. We reminisced, we cried, we laughed, we embraced. We held tightly to the present time, because we're about to go over that big hump in the roller coaster, and a new ride starts soon. And, alas, we will keep holding on tightly... because Knox is on his way to his next adventure, too!

Abort Anti-Choice

Very recently, Alabama lawmakers voted to ban abortions in their state, the Georgia governor signed a restrictive "heartbeat" abortion ban, Missouri senators just passed a bill that outlaws abortion after 8 weeks, an Ohio abortion bill passed restrictive abortion access (and has made false claims about ectopic pregnancies), and abortion conversations have been front and center in the news. The discussion ultimately circles around the fate of Roe v. Wade - whether it will or won't be overturned. The topic has me so upset.

Let me say before I get on my soapbox and show my true colors about where I stand on this issue, I have several friends who are anti-choice. And I really like these people. They are good people, nice people, and I don't want to lose their friendships or their respect. I'm apprehensive about publicly sharing any of my beliefs about this topic because I fear alienating others who I consider friends or even family, but I also can't seem to bite my tongue anymore, and you know me... when I have something on my mind, I write about it and share it to spark discussion and thought. Furthermore, I know a handful of people who have disclosed their abortions to me, and this topic is sometimes too raw and painful to discuss or fight about, so they won't say anything about it to you. The stigma and propaganda has alienated these women into being unable to talk openly about their abortions, and the mere mention of abortion can cause guttural reactions that often keep them from speaking out. They are the brave ones, but they've become victims of the fringe propaganda, so it is my deep conviction that we must be voices for those who can't or won't speak out.

So, now that I've laid that out there, let me start with this: Banning abortions is wrong. It's absolutely not the government's place, BY LAW, to create laws that prohibit women from making choices for their own body. There's this thing called body autonomy, and it's a real law. It means that each person has the right to determine who or what uses his/her body, for what, and for how long. Even if you're dead you retain body autonomy. It's the reason a person cannot be forced to donate organs or blood - even if it would be a life-saving measure for someone else. And, if you choose not to donate or let another person live off of your body or your blood, you are not held liable for their outcome (death or illness for example). A fetus is using a mother's body to live off of them, and it is there by permission and not by right. Even if a consenting woman becomes pregnant, she can withdraw that permission even after she has become pregnant.

It might make you wonder, though, why would a person change her mind? Well, to be clear, it doesn't matter why. A woman's decision is hers to make, and it doesn't have to affect you at all. Go ahead - let it go. This is not about you. But, I digress - I'll go ahead and answer that. Family circumstances change, financial circumstances change, perhaps others in her life have become ill or require more attention, time, energy, money, and care, or maybe she found out she has cancer or the baby is ill or is "incompatible with life" and won't live to survive childbirth or much thereafter. It doesn't matter why - it's her choice, it's her body, it's not yours.

Perhaps the decision to have a child was not hers to consent to. Maybe the mother was raped, sexually assaulted, or denied birth control for some reason. Maybe  her partner "pulled the goalie" by compromising birth control methods. Maybe she thought she was infertile. Maybe she thought she was going through menopause. But NONE of this matters. Legally, this is HER choice, whether you like it or not.

Now, you might think it's immoral or unethical or against your religion to have an abortion. Then, by all means, don't have one. You don't have to fear that pro-choicers are going to make you have one... it doesn't work that way. But, in our grand United States of America, you have no right to put those beliefs on someone else. You might not like that I don't believe Jesus died for your sins, but it doesn't mean I am denied the right to believe however I want. I may disagree with your idea to vote for the Republican candidate, but I may under no circumstances deny you the right to vote (funny how that doesn't seem to be reciprocated on the other side). You might not like that Hobby Lobby holds some pretty messed up religious views, but you can't deny me the right to shop there. That's MY choice no matter how "wrong" you think it is. You cannot tell me not to have a medical procedure on my own body, even if you believe I'm killing a fetus.

Yes, I've been pregnant... three times, in fact. And yes, I felt an attachment to each of those little fetuses long before they could have survived outside of my body. The kicks, the flutters, the sonograms, the sound of their heartbeats... they were all miraculous to me. But they were my choice. And they needed me to be on board with them being there. I am so fortunate that I never had to endure a miscarriage or a decision to terminate a pregnancy, and I cannot imagine what a woman goes through when grappling with either of these stresses. I had bleeding during each pregnancy, and each time it was awful and terrifying and anxiety-provoking. If I had to make a decision for the sake of my baby or myself, that would have added excruciating agony I cannot fathom. I don't know any woman who would think this is an easy decision. The lack of empathy and understanding shown by our political leaders is appalling and abhorrent.

They have no problem allowing any idiot to buy/own/carry a gun and only send thoughts and prayers when those guns are used to take the lives of innocent children. But, when a woman wants to have a say over her own reproductive health, they will simply not have it. They want to say that fetus is a life, a person, an individual with rights. Well, they just can't have it both ways. At least up until a certain point, that baby is not viable on its own and would not live outside the womb. Anti-choicers want to force that woman to be the incubator for a fetus that is not even livable yet and give it more rights than the woman housing it.

To elaborate on this point, let's just say a 1-month-old baby is on life-support for whatever reason (a horrible disease, a nightmarish accident, any number of reasons...). Let's imagine that baby would not be able to live without medical intervention. By law, the parents of the baby have the right to deny that medical intervention, to turn off life-support, to sign a DNR, to reject life saving measures, right? Why, then, are legislators and anti-choice activists around the country trying to deny those same rights to the parents of a fetus? If you're sitting there trying to justify that, go ahead and stop trying. A reasonable response just doesn't exist. You might never want to take your infant off life-support - and that's okay. But it's just as LEGALLY okay for those parents to choose differently. Judging those parents, the doctors, and the nurses who made the heartbreaking, devastating, gut-wrenching choice to stop life-saving measures will not help anyone.

Nope. Just not for us to say. The decision to abort is only one a pregnant person (with guidance from her doctor) should be making. There are simply too many reasons a mother - even one who very much wanted a baby - would decide to end a pregnancy, and it is just NOT for anyone else to weigh in on. Anti-choicers need to take the religious discussion out of this legal conversation. It is not "pro-life*" to make a woman endure carrying a fetus that is the product of rape; it is not humane to make a family who desperately wants a baby to have to carry a fetus with no brain and won't survive long after delivery; it is not justifiable to put a baby through a painful delivery and unbearable, limited time on earth when more compassionate measures could be used.

*And while I'm at it -- let me just go on to say we need to retire the term "pro-life." We are all pro-life; we all are on the side of the living, of wanting life to endure, which is exactly what pro-choice advocates are proposing - a life for the mother that doesn't put her physical life, her emotional life, her financial life, her marital life, etc. in danger. Likewise, no one is "pro-death." NO ONE. No one WANTS babies to be unhealthy or uncared for or unloved. No one wants fetuses to die. No one wants long lines at the abortion clinic because we want unborn babies to go away. What we want is CHOICE. That woman will have to carry her decision to abort or not her entire life. That's already a heavy burden - whether she chose to keep a baby she really can't take care of (physically or emotionally or financially...) or she chose to abort a baby she really wished she'd been able to keep. She will forever and always, I repeat FOREVER AND ALWAYS, think of that baby (or babies) and hold them in her heart and in her mind, wondering if she made the right choice. No one is going around just signing up for abortions all "willy nilly" for the fun of it. There is NOTHING enjoyable about having an abortion. It's a MEDICAL procedure that needs to be discussed as such. No one is signing up to have surgeries because it sounds like a great idea for a good time (even cosmetic surgery isn't something people want to want!). So let's all stop talking about abortion as if it's something we are for or against. It's a woman's medical option, much like cataract surgery or having a heart transplant. It's the patient's choice to have those procedures, and I don't see anyone passing judgment on those people. SO, get off your high horse and allow women to make their own G.D. decisions.

Okay, I know. You want to talk about when "life" starts. Well, you see. There is a reason we say a mother is "expecting." We say that because she is expecting to have a baby. Sometimes what we expect doesn't happen. There is a reason the definition of "person" includes the word "individual." An unborn baby isn't a "person" by definition; the fetus cannot live independently or individually yet. It's not technically a "person" yet. That's like calling a seed a plant - it's not. And you want to talk about letting nature takes its course and seeing God's plan through. Well, that's not a part of this conversation because GOD is part of the religious conversation, and we have already determined that GOD doesn't fit into the legal discussion. No one is asking you to go against your God. You do not have to get an abortion. That's the beauty of choice! But, I'll give you my two cents on God if you care to keep reading. God also gave us free will and the ability to make tough choices. God gave us the ability to love and nurture one another, to have compassion and understanding. Let OTHERS have their ability to choose; you can decide to be compassionate about that, even if you don't agree. It is not your body. It is not your choice.

This country is going to implode on itself when the leaders keep putting their religious agendas ahead of the freedoms given to others. When is this war on women going to end? Ending legalized abortion won't end abortion, people. Just like the NRA says about guns, there will always be a way. The underground railroad will rise yet again, only women's lives will be in danger due to botched procedures and unsafe practices. How "pro-life" of our politicians to care so much about women's lives. Chances are quite high no matter what race, religion, class, or political affiliation you are, someone you love has had an abortion. Banning them is not going to stop that. In fact, all it does is raise the likelihood that someone you know and love could gravely hurt themselves if their constitutional right to choose is taken away. Please find it in your heart to accept others, even if you don't accept their politics. I 100% accept your decision to not have an abortion. I just also 100% support your choice to have one if you need. And if you happen to agree with what you've read here, please consider donating to Planned Parenthood (click here) or a pro-choice candidate of your choosing to help us fight the anti-choice agenda.

Our Wilderness Adventure

Most people would never peg me for an outdoor kind of girl. To be fair, I'd never call myself that either. But then, there were a dozen summers spent outdoors sweating in the heat, in what I'd call my favorite season for most of my childhood. And, my absolute favorite part of my 6-week trip to Israel when I was 16-years-old was camping in the Negev Desert for several nights - sleeping in a sleeping bag directly on the sand, popping a squat and burning toilet paper in a ditch, and enjoying the calmness of the night sky in the middle of nowhere. My allergies are usually so awful they prevent me from enjoying the outdoors, but if I can get past that, I do really enjoy being outside. Okay, and if you take away the mosquitoes and ants. So, minus those very annoying problems, maybe I'm more of an outdoorsy person than I realized.

This weekend, we took advantage of unused snow days and enjoyed a long weekend away from work and school. I planned a trip to keep our boys occupied and to make memories as a family. We began our trip Saturday morning by heading to Fort Worth to visit the Science & History Museum there. That was a hit! And, the boys also enjoyed the Noble Planetarium - but not as much as Sam did! (He's an astronomy guru!) Then, we drove to Meridian State Park to camp out for one night there. We checked in, set up our campsite, and ventured off on a hike to explore the area. Then, we started our dinner prep; Sam made burgers and dogs and corn on the cob, then we roasted marshmallows for our Matzah S'mores. (Passover started Friday night.) The big boys enjoyed hanging out with Daddy at our campfire while I tried to get Knox to sleep. That took a while in our tent - as he kept waiting to see the stars which never really shined brightly enough for him to see that early in the night. Other than the irritating bird calls that continued throughout the night, the night was pretty smooth. At 1:15am or so, Knox woke me up, starring me in the face with one statement: "I LIKE YOU!" to which I replied, "I like you too; now go back to sleep!"

The next morning, Sam made us eggs and (turkey) bacon for breakfast.  Then, we packed up our camp and drove to Glen Rose to explore Dinosaur Valley State Park. The boys wanted to get in the water for a little bit. The water was a little too high to see the tracks, but we did get a good view of one of them! We hiked around there more after a lunch break at Dairy Queen, then headed to Fossil Rim to settle there for the night.

We were in two cabins (Wolf and Rhino), and while they were very small, they were very cozy and luxurious compared to the campsite we had come from! My favorite part of the Safari Cabins there is how many animals we got to see from our cabins. Lots of deer, antelope, a crane, etc. It was beautiful, and the weather was perfect (as it was all weekend!). As part of our stay, we got to go on a self-guided tour through their wildlife center. Because we had two cabins, we got to go twice! So, we went once on Sunday late afternoon, and again Monday morning. After our first tour through the park, we ate dinner at Big Cup Eatery - which has "the biggest biscuits in the world." Banner and I just HAD to see this, so we ordered one for each of us. . . . as I COMPLETELY forgot it's Passover. Whoops! It wasn't amazing, but it was good. Well, Banner thought it was better than I did - and at one point even said, "I'm sorry. I know this is not good manners, but I just have to," and then he put his whole face into the biscuit to get a big 'ol bite! Then we headed back to our cabins for the night - took a good, much needed shower, and then walked around the cabin area for a little while before saying goodnight.

Monday morning, we had a tasty breakfast at the cabin area. Then, we got to go on our second tour in the park. The morning time was definitely better as far as seeing more animals out and about. We enjoyed the gorgeous views of so much green land, the waves of grass in the wind, the scampering of animals all over. One of my favorite parts, though, was holding Knox on my lap - yes, in the front seat - with the windows down. He was enjoying the breeze, pointing to the animals, feeding them their little pellets, and melting into my lap.

The whole trip was definitely a good way to get out of our normal routine, enjoy some time together, and forget the stressors of everyday life. So, while I'd never really say I LOVE the outdoors, I really did enjoy getting away and spending some time in nature with these little critters I love so much! I honestly can't wait to go camping with them again.

DOMinating My Thoughts

Less than a week ago, my school life was turned upside down. It has caused my mind to be completely filled with a gazillion feelings and thoughts and reactions. So, what do I do when I can't stop thinking, ruminating, focusing on one thing? Write. I write until it's purged onto the screen and away from my brain. Only this time, I don't think it's gonna help much. The most devastating real life story happened this week, and I'm just not sure anything is going to heal this hurt for a while.

I first met Dominique in August of 2017 at our back-to-school teacher inservice. All I knew about her was that she had previously been working at a nearby elementary school that I believe lost the allocation for her teaching position. We were lucky to be getting this young, beautiful, energetic teacher. In the week to come, I learned that Dominique would be taking a medical leave for 6 weeks shortly after school began to go to Houston for radiation treatments. She had recently been through reconstruction surgery following chemotherapy for breast cancer. The chemo had not worked to shrink her triple negative cancer... "the worst kind," I remember her saying. Everything Dominique and I talked about was very matter-of-fact. She wasn't emotional about it; it was just something to get through, something standing in her way but obviously tackle-able. The school rallied around her, wearing our yellow shirts to send her off to Houston, and then we wore those shirts every week as a sign of comfort and support for her during that difficult time.

Dominique came back and continued to teach throughout the spring, and by May, she was declared cancer-free. She and I talked about her next reconstruction surgery before school got out for summer; this was shortly after my mom, a two-time cancer survivor, had her own issues with a few surgeries earlier that winter. Dominique had questions for my mom, as their surgeries were similar. I was so relieved when Dominique and I texted in the early summer that her surgery had gone well and she was healing nicely. She later went on to travel to Italy and told me all about it when we got back to school in August. She shared some great travel tips and taught me how to use AirBnB. :) In the fall, Dominique shared the exciting news that she and her husband were expecting their first child in early April.

Dominique's pregnancy went on pretty routinely. As February rolled around, she was looking bigger and bigger, and we were all getting excited to meet baby Liam. Dominique got sick in February and missed some school due to pneumonia, but she was able to come back a couple weeks before Spring Break. Between meetings and classes, we would catch up briefly, or we'd see each other in the hall, and I'd check in to see how pregnancy was treating her. She was ready to have that baby - feeling sore and tired. Her "walking pneumonia" wasn't helping, and she was having trouble breathing.

Over Spring Break, I saw through Facebook that Dominique and her husband, Nick, had welcomed Liam a few weeks early! What great news! I was so happy to see this great post on my newsfeed. School started back on Monday, and her students were excited to know that baby Liam was born and felt happy for their teacher who was now officially on maternity leave. Tuesday went on, and we were all moving about life as normal.

Wednesday morning, I had literally JUST begun leading a 504 meeting when my cell phone rang shortly after my desk phone rang. Seeing it was the front office calling (and they knew I had a meeting), I answered to be sure everything was okay. It was my principal. He asked if I was in the building. I said yes that I was just starting a 504 meeting, "Is everything okay?" "No. It's not. Can you please come to my office?"

A thousand thoughts raced through my head - first wondering if everyone in my family was okay. But, I had JUST left the boys and Sam at home, and I felt certain either Sam or my mom would be the one calling my cell if something were wrong at home. So, I worried a student was in danger next. A tardy student and her mother were waiting for someone to let them in, but not one person was in the front office. I let them in and told her to go to class and not to worry about her tardy (she looked teary, no one was there to help us, and I had no idea where the tardy passes were, AND her teacher was in my room for the meeting!). I knocked on the principal's door to find our two office ladies with him. They were all distraught looking. "Dominique passed away." Those three words. They hit me like a ton of bricks. "What?!?!" "Dominique passed. She died yesterday morning." He had tears in his eyes, and his voice trembled. My hands cupped my face. I sat down, my hands still at my cheeks. My mind began racing... how could this be true? She just gave birth! What??

My principal asked, "What are our next steps? What do we do? Who do I need to contact?" I just sat. He told me the story of how he had found out, and then repeated, "What are our next steps?" I have NO idea what he had just told me. I said, "I'm going to need you to repeat all of that. I'm sorry. I wasn't able to take that in." Everyone in the room understood. The information we received throughout the morning was that Dominique had died on Tuesday morning, one week after giving birth. Her cancer was back, and it had taken over. It was in her liver, her lungs, her bones. She weakened every day after Liam was born and passed away at the hospital on his one-week birthday. Absolutely devastating. Absolutely unfair.

Since then, my mind has been either racing with various thoughts or stuck on one thing. The racing thoughts involve either the logistics or the unknown: who do we need to tell, who already knows, how do we tell the students, did she know the cancer was back?, was she able to enjoy any of her time with her son?, how will this affect her students, what about that meeting?, what about that referral?, how did this happen?, her parking spot will be empty, I need to reprint that signature page... the parent can't see her name on that paper, how did this happen?, how did this happen?, how did this happen???

The one thing it's stuck on, though, is the fact that she got to be a mother for one week. One F-ING week! The morning after we found out, my alarm went off early so I could be at school before students came in. I laid in bed for a little while and went to my Photos app. I scrolled to my pictures of Knox as a one-week-old baby. I had to see what that looked like - how little - how fragile. Sam rolled over and hugged me, looking over my shoulder to see our infant Knox in those pictures. I said, "This is what a one-week-old looks like." Then I scrolled to present day as the next 3 years fast-forwarded before me. "This is what I would have missed," I began, as all those photos flew up my screen. Silence. That's heavy. It's hard to take in. And he's my THIRD.

My first baby, Banner, is 7. I remember my first week with him. It was a whirlwind of learning, of healing from surgery, of complete disorientation of night and day and what life is like now as a new mom. It was a high for Sam and me as a couple - sharing in this whole new adventure together - falling in love with each other all over again as we leaned on each other during this new but scary time as we navigated parenthood. I was learning my child's temperament, he was learning me. We were having feeding issues; he was jaundiced; I was emotional; I was tired; I was in pain. It wasn't the birth I had imagined or wanted, and I was learning parenthood would never be what I expected or thought it would be.

I can't help but wonder what Dominique was going through, physically and emotionally. All the typical new mother stuff plus a devastating blow that cancer was taking over and stealing everything from her. And since finding out about Dominique's death, I can't get my head to move past how unfair this is. The one thing she wanted more than anything was to be a mom, and while the fact that her dream was realized has given so many friends of mine peace that this miracle baby got to be born to her, I, well, I am angry. I am so F-ing angry. Yes, Liam's a blessing. Yes, she got to be a mother. But, she was robbed of all the joy, all the worry, the pain, the celebrations, the tears, the smiles, the nurturing, the laughter, the anxiety, the cuddles, the anger, the cheering on, the check-ups, the heartbreaks, the birthdays, the Christmases, the teaching.... all of it.

Since Wednesday, every little thing that drives me NUTS each day, has suddenly become a reminder of what Dominique is going to miss in Liam's life. I can't stand brushing Knox's teeth... he bites the brush every time, swallows the toothpaste, doesn't really know how to spit, and demands that he try to take the brush from me. But, dammit, she'll never brush Liam's teeth. She'll never fight with him over how long he brushed for or if he got the back ones good enough. She'll never get to be the one to calm his fears when he can't sleep - to hear what's on his mind that is keeping him awake. She'll never roll her eyes at how many times she's asked him to get his homework done or get frustrated that he won't try the best meal she's ever made. She'll never wonder if she answered him the right way when he asked that deep question. She'll never be the one to kiss boo-boos or know just the right way to heal a growing pain. She'll never wonder if his fever is getting too high and if she should call the doctor. She'll never be the comfort he needs when he's cried throughout his whole swim lesson and just needs to be wrapped in his mama's arms. She'll never be dragged from her warm bed, woken in the deepest of sleep, because of his cries to find his pacifier or have to cover him up because his covers "aren't working." She'll never teach him to tie his shoes or talk him into riding his bike without training wheels when he's fearful. She'll never have to coerce him to stay buckled in the grocery cart and distract him from all the goodies he wants her to buy. She'll never sit through a scorchingly-hot soccer game, read the same story over and over and over again, or fish his favorite toy out of the bottom of the toilet. She'll never cringe at the mud he tracks in or the fingerprints covering the just-cleaned windows. She'll never trip over his toys she asked him to clean up, look for a lost library book for the umpteenth time, cuss at the pain of stepping on his Legos, or gag at finding an old sippy cup of milk. She'll never get to do a LOT of things. And sweet Liam will never know what he's missing.

And dammit, none of this is making me feel any better. Like I said, writing isn't going to make it go away. I'm still in a state of shock and anger. Today was her memorial service, and even though some of my words were read aloud by the pastor, I still haven't truly cried. I want to, but can't. I think I'm still not there yet. I've teared up with her students; I've teared up with my colleagues; I've cried putting my own kids to bed and reflecting on how unfair the whole thing is; but I haven't really cried. I'm still in shock and angry, and dammit my postpartum anti-depressants won't let me! I want to cry -- because the sadness is there, and my mind is stuck, and it's so unfair, and nothing is helping. But you know what, I'm going to be a better mom, a better wife, a better colleague. Even when I want to complain, I'm gonna rethink that. ... Wait. You know what?? Dominique will never "get" to complain about her child, about parenting, about motherhood. My whole blog began as a complaint about wedding planning, and then it turned in to a complaint about pregnancy, and then motherhood. Complaining never changed anything, except it helped me breathe, helped me process, helped others connect to this human experience. And complaining about Dom being gone won't bring her back or make any sense of it, but damn it feels good to be angry and let it out. So maybe I will keep complaining, but with a twist. A complaint with a whole lot of gratitude that we are still here - that we GET to complain - that we have these stressful times and can get through them together.

Oh, Dominique, you have taught us so much in the last week. You taught us how to live and how to fight and how to die with grace and strength and love. You will not be forgotten, ever. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life and being a part of mine. I will carry you with me. I hope you are at peace even when we are still struggling with the devastation of the space you left. My thoughts will continue to be on you, but soon, I hope to be a little less angry and reshape these thoughts into the gifts I know they really are.

The family has setup a PayPal account for baby Liam’s education. If you’d like to donate, here’s the link.

https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/8ddvOnZLoe

Why So Chai?

One of my favorite things about each summer was going to camp. If you were fortunate enough to go to camp as a kid, you know why I say that it was a highlight of each year: friendships, new activities, swimming, playing all day, and perhaps even sleeping away. Each summer, I always attended a Jewish camp. It was a time to learn about Judaism, spend more time thinking about my spirituality, further commit myself to a Jewish future, and most importantly, connect with my Jewish community and build friendships with those who understood what it was like to be a Jewish kid in Texas. Some years, I went to the Jewish Community Center camps, some years I went to sleep away camp or traveled to Israel, and other years I was a camp counselor for the same pre-school camp I attended as a child. No matter where I was, I felt connected to the kids I spent those summers with - singing Hebrew songs, learning more about God and Torah, taking on a challenging ropes course, making friendship bracelets or lanyards, eating S'mores around a camp fire, playing Gaga or Newcomb, competing against each other during the much-anticipated Maccabiah games (Color War), splashing around playing Marco Polo, growing attached to our fun counselors or teasing the ones we couldn't stand, making up silly songs our parents would have never approved of, developing crushes and hoping the boys would notice us, trying new foods, and learning cool tricks from new friends.

As a parent, I want the same for my boys each summer. I want them to explore, learn, create, pray, join in, experiment, and build independence. Even though I know they'll hear new cuss words, repeat disgusting songs, learn new gestures I wish they wouldn't, stay up way past their bedtimes, forget to brush their teeth at sleep away camp, and perhaps eat only challah at Friday night dinner, I am totally fine with that and want them to find the fun as they bond with Jewish friends they will have the rest of their lives. I am still friends to this day with many now-all-grown little boys and girls I went to preschool camp with. I was in sorority and in college classes with far-away friends I used to share a cabin with at sleep-away camp. We all have funny, sad, amazing, nostalgic memories with each other, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. Yes, I came home with dreadlocks one summer. Yes, I came home with an ear piercing one summer. Yes, I had my first kiss (if you can call it that!) at sleep-away camp. Yes, I did dumb things in Israel when I should have been more captivated by the moments of where I was instead of trying to get my crush's attention/affection. Yes, I came home having memorized new obscene lyrics to our bunk's version of popular song. But, man, we had a great time. No grades, no homework, no teachers, no parents, no expectations. Summers were amazing.

Sam and I have committed to sending our boys to Jewish camps each summer - at least at some point during the 10 weeks they usually have off from school. It's important to us that they feel part of the greater Jewish community around the metroplex. During the school year, it's easy to feel isolated as only one of 2-4 Jewish kids in your class (if you're lucky enough to have even that many Jews at your school). As Reform Jews, it's easy to feel that Judaism is only holidays and Sunday school and not more of a spiritual community with a rich heritage, history, and culture. Summers at camp ARE the Shabbat of the year, and I want camp to be something my boys look forward to with great anticipation and excitement.

So, each winter, I begin planning where the boys will spend their summer. For my young preschoolers, it's been easy... just more of the same at school. But, as they get older, there are more choices, and I want to make the right ones for them. We have to try new things and venture out so they know what their options are. To get the best (early bird) price and ensure a spot for your child, you have to make decisions usually by March 1st or so. Therefore, in January and certainly by February, decisions have to be made. And here's where I want to vent a little:

Camp prices are ridiculously, unexplainably high. When considering paying for 3 children, it's simply unaffordable to fork over that money. I've heard my (Jewish) friends with older kids warn me about the high price of camp, so, I did a little research to determine if this was a normal thing or a normal Jewish thing. What I came to find out did not surprise me at all. It went hand-in-hand with our experience in looking for early childhood programs early on. Jewish programs are considerably higher priced that both Christian and secular programs. When our non-Jewish friends found out what we were paying for Jewish preschool, they were floored. They couldn't understand why anyone would pay that much for a 3-year-old to go to school. They were/are floored that we made/make monthly payments of such a high amount and have done so for 6 years in a row now (sometimes with two children attending at a time!). As Quinn completes preschool and we are finally looking at only ONE monthly preschool payment next year, you'd think we would be feeling lighter. But then, no. CAMP.

I did a lot of research about this, and while no camp is "cheap," my basic finding was that Jewish camps cost way more than the others.... and/or Christian camps offered a much more affordable rate. So, why is it that Jewish camps and Jewish (pre)schools cost so much more than others available? And, why is it that Jewish parents (and in (insanely too) many cases... grandparents) continue to fork over that money? And, why aren't we talking about this as a greater Jewish community?

Let me give you some examples of some of the differences in costs (all amounts are based on early bird pricing if available):

Sleep Away:
Sky Ranch, a Christian sleep-away camp in TX: $166.70 per day
Pine Cove, a Christian sleep-away camps in TX: $178.43 per day
KIDZ Camp Renegade w/ Prestonwood Baptist Church: $58 per day (one week camp)
Greene Family Camp, a Jewish sleep-away camp in TX: $242.50 per day
Camp Young Judea, a Jewish sleep-away camp in TX $200 per day
Kidventure Sleep Away, Secular camp in TX: $225 per day (camp t-shirt + transportation to and from camp included in price)

Community Centers:
YMCA Camp for 6 weeks (non-member): $1,074 (hours are 7:00am-6:30pm, $3.11 per hour)
JCC Camp for 6 weeks (non-members; pay additional fee for summer "friend" membership): $2,229 (hours are 9:00am-4:00pm, $10.62 per hour) or $471 if paying by the week, if you aren't already a paying member of the facility *By far the highest camp price I've come across in my research (with the exception of tech camps at the college campuses)

Private Schools:
Summer on the Hill (Greenhill), a private co-ed summer experience: 9:00-3:00, between $320-370 per week but can be more expensive depending on the class
Summer at Hockaday, a private co-ed summer experience: 9:00-3:30, lunch included: $396 (with early bird discount included) per week
Summer @ Levine, a private Jewish school offering camp 9:00-4:00: $375 per week

Gymnastics:
Elevate Gymnastics: $275 per week (8:00am-6:00pm)
Metroplex Gymnastics: $250 per week (9:00-6:00, includes early care for free at 7:30am, option to swim included in price)
Infinite Bounds: $180 per week (9:00-2:00)
Gymnastics Camp at the JCC: : $471 for one week, if not already a paying member of facility (9:00-4:00)

Pre-school Programs: (These are all based on half-day prices... usually 9-1:00ish unless otherwise stated.)
Prestonwood Church Vacation Bible School: Free (9:00-12:00)
Vacation Bible School in Plano: $45, with max of $135 per family (9:00-12:00)
Anshai Torah Pre-school Camp: $222 per week (for a 3 year old, 9:00-2:00)
Temple Emanu-El, Dallas: $356 per week (for a 3 year old, plus $100 registration fee)
Camp Shemesh at Levine Academy: $260 per week
Camp Simchah at JCC: $1,026 + $280 summer "friendship" fee if not a member of the JCC for 3 weeks = $435 per week (this price does decrease if attending a 6 week or 9 week session, but no less than $311 weekly)
Camp Gan Israel at Chabad: $230 per week (plus $75 registration fee... hours are 9:00-3:45, a much longer day, and cost decreases per week if attending 6 week program... Praise BE!)

Other Camps:
Kidventure Camp in Dallas: $235 per week (9:00-3:30...$7.23 per hour)
Creek Camp at Plano Heritage Farmstead: $325 per week (9:00-5:00... $8.13 per hour)
Plano Summer Institute for Gifted Students: $300 for 3.5 weeks (half-day... $4.41 per hour)

I have often heard directors and leaders of some of these programs say, "Well, you get what you pay for." Um, WHAT? Are you telling me that Christian camps aren't as good as Jewish camps? Are you saying that Jewish preschool teachers take better care of and better prepare their Jewish students than their non-Jewish counterparts? What exactly does that mean? I don't buy it, literally. One Jewish school touts this awful line again and again to parents in the community. I was told by one campus that another Jewish school doesn't cost as much because, "You get what you pay for." I have at least two other Jewish friends who were told this at the same campus, and at the end of the day, we all still chose the more affordable school... because I can't justify paying $4,000 more each year in tuition for my 3-year-old to go to a school that thinks it's better than another program. I mean, sure, I like their Shabbat programs each Friday considerably more than my child's current preschool, but do I like it $4,000 more?? And while I absolutely value early childhood education, COME.ON! It's preschool - not college. While I HIGHLY value early childhood education (or I wouldn't have put my children in the programs to begin with... even going back to work to make that happen!), what are we TALKING ABOUT!? The bottom line of a great preschool is that kids learn to not be assholes to each other. I'm not saying that's an easy job... God bless preschool teachers. My sister is one of them, and man, I wouldn't want to spend 5 days a week with 12 threenagers, no WAY. You couldn't pay me enough... and apparently, they don't. With all that money being handed over by willing parents, you'd think teachers would be making more money or getting better benefits or SOMETHING. But no, not the case. SO, what ARE we paying for? Really?

On top of this, another common response to my complaints: "Well, there are scholarships available. Maybe you should apply for those?" Say that again?? I need to apply for financial aid in order to make this problem go away? So, applying for a scholarship makes this acceptable? No. No, it doesn't. It makes it ridiculous. I shouldn't have to ask for assistance at our income level. But I also shouldn't have to break the bank to give my child a Jewish camp experience to build his roots with his community. And please don't tell me that it's because Jewish camps aren't funded like non-Jewish camps. If we have enough money to be forking over scholarships to anyone who applies for it, then let's just give that scholarship money to the camp to let it run more efficiently without hurting the entire community, whose members may not be willing to ask for help for a variety of reasons: "there's always someone else worse off than me;" "I decided to have three kids - no one else, so I should be able to afford these camps, or maybe they just shouldn't go;" "I'll be denied because we make too much money to qualify (even though that money goes directly to paying off student loan debt, health insurance, doctor bills, car payment, etc);" "I don't even know how much to ask for;" "I didn't know there was help, and now I've missed the deadline."

I've looked into these said scholarships, and of course, they want to see our tax returns. This seems so invasive, especially because the tax returns don't tell the whole story. It doesn't show that we go months without income sometimes because clients are slow to pay. It doesn't show that the main reason I have to work is for health care for 4 (of 5) family members (other than to pay for preschool, as I mentioned above). It doesn't show that we are still paying a price for taking time, funds, and energy to campaign for a year and a half. It's not always as it seems. It kinda bugs me that tax returns are considered... I'm not asking the camp/school to tell me how they're going to spend the money I give THEM. I don't ask what they pay their counselors or how they allocate their money for crafts, snacks, busses, etc. I just trust that they are spending wisely and making the best financial decisions. But, I digress; I'll move on. I DID apply for a scholarship. And the help offered was laughable - or at least how far off our numbers were is laughable.

These camps really want Jewish kids to come to their camps. I firmly believe that, but it seems they really only want the Jewish "elite" kids, or they wouldn't charge such a high price. They wouldn't make it insanely time-consuming to complete and submit scholarship forms. (Many scholarship programs require or strongly suggest that applications be submitted to more than one scholarship organization in order to be considered; I've found they usually require 3 different funding sources.) Some of my Jewish friends don't even think about this. They just fork over the money without much thought. And, that's great if they can afford it. But, at the same time, that's what bothers me. Why must we accept that as "normal" and keep perpetuating the same cycle of "I will pay because that's what you say it costs, and you will continue to charge me a fortune because you know I will just keep paying it." Just because a person CAN pay for it doesn't mean he/she SHOULD.

I'm annoyed. (Can you tell?) Jews pay membership fees to their synagogues. We pay extra for Sunday School and Hebrew school. We pay more than our non-Jewish friends for camps and pre-school programs. We are not a welcoming bunch, I know. You have to ask the rabbi 3 times to convert before you can move forward with conversion. But, if you want to be Christian, just go to church and you are welcome. I can appreciate the high bar it takes to want to be a Jew, but what do you do when you already are one, and you feel like the community is too hard to be a part of? And, who started all of this? And, why do we allow it to continue? Why should wanting our children to be a part of the Jewish community come with such a high price tag? And why are we not talking about this? I'm hoping this post, as hard as it is for me to shed light on this taboo topic, will spark more discussion within our community (it already has during my research and I've gotten a lot of great feedback and comments from Jewish moms in our area that I don't even know). I'm well aware that I'm not the only one who feels this way. The question is: what are we going to do about it?

And Another Year Makes THREE! (Knox's Newsletter)

Dear Knox,
So when you turned two, it was hard for me to say goodbye to my one-year-old, but now that you're not TWO anymore, sheesh... I've really lost my last BABY, and Mommy's heart may not handle it! You are such a big boy, so independent and able to do so much on your own. You surprise me again and again, yet I surprise myself when I'm more annoyed that you can do so much on your own than I am excited. I WANT you to stay little, to need me, but you really aren't and don't. I have to remind myself of just how big you are getting, even when my brain sees you as the baby, the one who needs tending to. The great news is that you WANT me. Heck, if you could climb back inside my uterus, you would! You are always wanting me to hold you, wanting only Mommy, wanting me to come with you, to hold your hand, to cuddle with you, to sit with you. I LOVE this! At times, it can be annoying, because I may need both hands, or I'm trying to cook and it's dangerous for me to lift you up, but I do love that you love me so - because that feeling is mutual!

• You are one happy little boy. You wake up many mornings and say, "It's another beautiful day!" It delights my heart to come into your room and know that you are happy to get up and face the day with such a positive attitude. 
• Some of my favorite words you say: "pasgetti,""wollipop,""popischool," (popsicle)"bayoons," "not pussy," (not supposed to), "you farted me" (I have NO idea what this means, but it's said in frustration, so I think it really means "You're frustrating me," but it sure sounds hilarious)
• You think the word "butt" is hilarious and often quote the song from Sing! much like Quinn did at your age: "Oh.My.God. Look at her BUTT!"
• When you toot, you look behind you as if you stepped on something. It always reminds me of an old man who doesn't realize he farted and thinks he heard something.
• Speaking of... you're POTTY TRAINED! I never like to put those words in writing, but you've been wearing underwear since December 27th and keeping them dry nearly every day! You no longer nap with diapers, and you're just about ready to drop them at nighttime too! 
• You slept in your crib until your actual birthday ... which is WAY longer than Banner or Quinn ever did. There are two differences: they had climbed out much easier because they were not wearing a sleepsack like you did until only a couple weeks ago, and they had a baby brother coming pretty soon, so I was ready for them to move into a big boy bed sooner. But, you have been ready for a long time, and you proved you were ready during our cruise in December when you slept well in a big boy bed with your brothers. Your first night in your crib-turned-toddler bed was very successful. HOWEVER, you have already told us that you want the crib back together and don't like your new bed. Even though you do great, we may put the front of the crib back. We'll see! 
• You still have 2 pacifiers that you sleep with: "Green," and "Blue." You're very good about keeping them in your room after you wake up, but I'd love to see those gone soon, as your teeth are paying a hefty protruding price.
• You love dress-up! It doesn't matter if it's a cape or a princess gown, you will wear it if you can! Many of the pictures we get sent home each day from school (from the daily notes we get) show you in some kind of princess dress - even if dress up time was much earlier. I actually really love these! You'll be listening to a book or doing an activity just hanging out in your Snow White costume or Cinderella dress. And equally, there are days you won't take off the cape you've been wearing at home to go to school, so you just keep it on and I find it in your back pack at the end of the day.
• You still like your rest time. You ask for naps, you tell us when you're tired, and you let me know when you're ready for me to put you in your crib. 
• You adore your cousins and your big brothers. You're especially enamored with Damon and Hayla.
• Your favorite friends are Wyatt & Asher.
• Your favorite color is green.
• You can count 1-10 and back again with ease, usually.
• You like to practice your colors, shapes, opposites, seasons, and so much more in your favorite book, What You Need to Know Before Starting School. I like that you like the book, but I'm so sick of reading it every night!
• You LOVE: lollipops, your pacis, pretzels, yogurt (usually with M&Ms or Oreos), chicken fries, mac and cheese, playing on my phone and watching YouTube Kids, Yo Gabba Gabba, Peppa Pig, Super Why, riding your bike (which you've finally started being able to pedal), cuddling, (color) baths, Daniel Tiger songs, kolaches, dancing, singing, Mickey & the Roadster Racers, apple juice, Danimal smoothies, making up names and calling them to people when you're angry ("you oofamagaragofig!")
• You started swim lessons in November at Montgomery, but in January we moved to Emler. You do NOT like putting your face/head in the water, but you're getting better at tolerating it. You don't like when I tell you it's swim lesson time, but I'm hopeful that will change soon!
• You have gotten to be a pro at lengthening your bedtime routine. You procrastinate going to bed longer and longer with special requests: wash your pacis, get a drink of water, go potty, telling me one more thing - even if it makes absolutely no sense or asking to go somewhere tomorrow that usually ends up with me saying, "I'll think about it" just to get you to go to sleep! 
• You've been obsessed with talking about a "dragon," and we thought it might have been from the dragon in Shrek, but I can't quite figure it out. When we saw the Chinese dragon on our cruise in December, Daddy and I laughed that "we had finally found your dragon!!" But, that wasn't it, either! No idea what that's about!
• Just like Ms. Valerie said at your fall conference, you can be like the little police. You will tell others "That's not nice!" or "You don't yell at me!" You're all about fairness and justice: "He started it!" or "I had it first!" I can tell 3 is going to bring on all these one-liners. 
• You like to stand at the front door and yell to guests who are leaving our house: "Don't forget to go trick-or-treating with us!" ever since Halloween, and that has not stopped. 
• My most favorite time of day with you is still holding you in the glider in your room, singing songs and cuddling you close. Even though there are days when I wish you would let Daddy take over so I can spend some extra time with your big brothers, I 100% enjoy my time just us in your room.
• Today, we had your well check with Dr. B. You are in the 50th percentile for height, weight, and BMI at this time. You weigh 32.2 pounds, measure 37.5 inches tall, and have a BMI of 16. 
• In addition, we filled out your developmental checklist and were told that you are scoring around the 3 year, 9 month age! We are not surprised. You are quite verbal, very agile and coordinated, and very smart.
• On your actual birthday, after a Friday Family Film Fest night(we watched Overboard with Goldie Hawn), we woke you up with a bunch of balloons in your bed. Then we had donuts for breakfast, went to the gym (one of your favorite places to play while Mommy & Daddy work out), had you first nap in your toddler bed, and then went to Chuck E. Cheese's for dinner and play time! 
• Your birthday party was this past Sunday at, of course, My Gym! You had a BLAST! It was a perfect party - with your favorite people and your favorite theme: Yo Gabba Gabba. We had great music playing, yummy cake to eat, some "okay" pizza, and lots of fun and games! You'd been waiting for your party for MONTHS, and it did not disappoint! Your favorite part - and probably mine too - was watching you on the motorcycle at the very end of the party! It makes my heart so happy to celebrate you every year!

Knox Morgan, you have such a charming, engaging, and fun personality! I am bracing myself as we head into this "threenage" year, because I KNOW we are in for it. You are a sweet boy - for SURE - but you are also a sassy one, too. The good news is, this ain't my first rodeo, and I will not fall for your shenanigans that I'm sure are to come! We've gotten a taste of your tantrums, your defiance, your pouts, your demanding instructions, and your unwillingness to cooperate. The way you run from us when it's time to brush teeth, or the way you get up from the dinner table and play with toys even though you haven't been excused; the way you shout "NO!" at us when we ask you to do something, or when we don't act quickly enough for your liking, you demand, "I TOLD YOU TO GET ME SOME YOGURT!!" You cross your arms and hang your head, and you will give the silent treatment like no other. You will sulk, "I NEED A BREAK!" and put yourself in time-out, which nearly causes me to burst out laughing for being so proud of your decision - and cuteness. You will insist I take off your shoes, your pants, your underwear just to pee at a restaurant, and when I don't comply, you will yell at me and shout "YES!!!! I NEED YOU TO TAKE THEM OFF!" You can be quite the little sass! But, you know we have your number, and although you know how to push our buttons, be fairly warned that "mama don't play that." We will get through this year together, my Baby Love. I promise you that. Because I love you more than you could ever imagine, and there's nothing you could say or do that could change the way I feel about you. 

We've spent some time these past couple of days looking at your very first photos - being born, being held for the first time, meeting your brothers, meeting your grandparents, coming home from the hospital. Those days feel like yesterday to me.  The cuddles, the tenderness, the affection, the gentleness of our relationship - it has all remained the same since those early days with you. These past three years have flown by, and you have brought such joy to our lives! Thank you for being you and loving us the way you do!

I wish you the happiest of happy birthdays, Knoxipoo!

I love you!!

Love,

Mommy

Celebrating your birthday at school (2/15/19)

You've been wanting us to "lift you in the chair" even at home for weeks!

Decorating your birthday cake with Ms. Valerie

Your annual "I Believe" - we read it before you went to sleep with the whole family,
a definite favorite of mine!

Last photo as a 2-year-old

Happy Birthday!!!

 

And your toddler bed is ready!!

Chuck E. Cheese!

 PARTY TIME!

Market Street made the cake; Mommy decorated it!

With Wyatt

That smile!!! I'd do anything for that!

And this shy smile reminds me of myself as a kid.