Trying to Find Perspective

I’ve struggled a little bit with how to try to put some of this into perspective. It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? To think of an actual GLOBAL PANDEMIC? One where thousands have already lost their lives in just a few short months, and where we are doing things we’d never imagined to try to keep the US lives lost to under a quarter of a million people in the next few months?

If you know me at all, you know I’m an advocate for pediatric cancer research. The idea that an entire classroom and then some of kids faced a diagnosis of cancer each day always was stunning to me. 43 children each day are diagnosed with some form of cancer. 12% of them, or 5-6 kids each day, do not survive. 60% have long term, lasting effects – infertility, hearing loss, heart failure, secondary cancers. That’s about 26 of those kids.

Our first confirmed US case of Covid-19 was January 21^st, in Washington State. As I write this, we have statistics, as shaky as they may be, through April 7^th. The US showed 400,335 cases.

10 days in January.

29 days in February.

31 days in March.

7 days in April.

That’s 77 days. 

That’s 3,311 pediatric cancer cases, which so many of us find abhorrent.

It is four hundred thousand cases of Covid-19.

Deaths in the US through April 7^th? 12,841. That is nearly four times the pediatric cancer diagnosis numbers.

Understand that this is in no way a competition, I’m not stepping away from the pediatric cancer fight. What I’m trying to do is help us collectively understand that we have a responsibility to our friends, our neighbors, our loved ones. If we knew that taking some time and limiting our activities would protect our kids from cancer, we’d do it. Shoot, for kids who did stem cell transplants, THEY DID THIS! With a stem cell transplant, they destroy the immune system completely, and rebuild it. As part of that protocol, there is a period of around 100 days of isolation. Social distancing on steroids.

We have the ability to do that for each other right now. We have the ability to protect someone we know, someone we love, from an illness that could kill them. Could put them in the ICU, intubated, sedated and alone.

Those same kids, the ones who fought the cancer and survived that? They are higher risk. Your parents or grandparents are higher risk. My husband is higher risk. More likely to be that one who is intubated, sedated, alone in an ICU. 

Yes, I know people are beating this thing. That’s AMAZING, and I’m so thankful for that. But this isn’t the flu, (In the last five years, Indiana has averaged 154 flu deaths each year, with flu season generally about 7 months long. In only a month, 173 Hoosiers have died from COVID-19, with many more expected.) It’s not a cold. You might be young and healthy and not high-risk, but you can be a carrier, and unwittingly pass it along to someone who is higher risk.

Is it worth it?

I guess, if it is, if you want to still behave as if all of this is normal, and that the scientists and the media are blowing it out of proportion, and that we’re just stirring up mass hysteria, I can’t fix that. We can call it a difference of opinion, but I hope your opinion doesn’t kill someone.

"You won't ever know if what you did personally helped. That's the nature of public health. 

When the best way to save lives is to prevent a disease rather than treat it, 

success often looks like an overreaction."

Credit to Mari Armstrong-Hough

via Twitter, Mar 11, 2020.

Do Our Best Work

Reading messages from my children's teachers, who technically are on break right now, but are scrambling to restructure. This is spring break here, but they have asked teachers to transition to eLearning for the week after. This is new - we are not a school system that has used eLearning historically, so teachers, administrators, and students are all flying a bit by the seat of their pants. 

In one of these emails, this stood out.

"Let’s be flexible with each other and do our best to work through this time in the most efficient and reasonable ways possible."

This literally hit my inbox as I work on a message to share with my staff on what our ideas look like for how to handle the next several weeks.

Right now, I have a deadline in one month. 

It *might* change, but I can't count on that.

In the meantime, I have offices of employees and clients to worry about. I now am carrying the burden of both financial AND physical well-being, on some level. 

It's heavy. I'd be lying if I said differently. I'm not carrying these things alone, by any stretch, but here they are.

So, as we all navigate these bizarre, uncharted waters, as we watch Italy and Spain stop in their tracks, as we scramble as a country to gain access to proper testing, as a divided nation grows more so in a time when supporting one another is SO critical, I think I will cling to two things - the words of this teacher:

"Let’s be flexible with each other and do our best to work through this time in the most efficient and reasonable ways possible."

Along with the words of one of the best managers I had an opportunity to work under:

"The task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us." 

We are powerful when we work together. I'm grateful for that.

It's Baaaack!!

If you've been a reader here before, or have followed me on Twitter for any length of time, you may have seen mention of Mario Marathon before. If you haven't, here's a quick synopsis -

Some guys here in Indiana hijacked the idea of playing video games, streaming it online, and using it as a fundraiser. They picked an awesome charity, Child's Play, to support, and ended up making it a mostly annual event. (They took one year off in there because sometimes adulting is hard, and people move, and have kids, and these guys were forking out literally thousands of dollars making it all work and, frankly, they needed a break.) But then they came back, and my crew is yet again totally stoked about it. The cool part? Audience participation, which equals donations to Child's Play, to the collective tune over the last 10 years of over $560,000!!    

So, what the heck is Child's Play? Good question. Child's Play Charity is a charity that provides games, books, DVDs, toys, etc to children's hospitals around the world. Founded by "gamers" with the idea of "gamers giving back", Child's Play uses funds raised to help kids have fun in a situation that could be... less than fun. (Because hospitals are not so much fun!) 

So, anywhooo... This is taking on some cool new meaning for me as we will officially become patients of an area children's hospital soon, courtesy of our Bump. Both of the children's hospitals in Indianapolis are partner hospitals with Child's Play, so this has really started to come full circle for me. 

Gist of all this is that Mario Marathon is back, and will be streaming live beginning at 11am Eastern on June 23, 2017. We're looking forward to it, and hope you'll join us. If you'd like to support Child's Play, you can make a donation (which goes DIRECTLY to Child's Play, the team gets information for tracking purposes only, but your funds go 100% to the charity) using the button there in the left sidebar. 

Want to read other posts I've shared about MM in the past? Find those here! 

#SuitYourself and #YouSuitMe

Body image is such a difficult, personal thing. Women verbalize it more, but men face challenges as well. To compound the issue, we tend tear others down, especially when safely behind a keyboard and screen name. Somewhere along the way, society taught us that we will feel better knowing that someone feels worse.

I have a daughter who I am trying my DAMNEDEST to bring up to be strong in her confidence of herself. Having been what could generously be described as small my whole life, I know the feelings that my long, lean daughter might face. It crushed me the other morning when she came bouncing in to tell me what she weighed, and was excited because she had gained 3 pounds. I never, ever want her weight to be a focal point for her!

Many of you, my friends, are also raising kids. Let's work on teaching them 2 things -

First – that they are beautifully and wonderfully made. What some might perceive as flaws are an element of their design.  We are not all supposed to be the same (wouldn’t THAT be boring!?) and that they are loved, supported and fantastic, just like they are.

Second – that others around us are also beautiful and wonderful. Do your kids hear you laughing about someone’s appearance? Or making snide comments? Do you spend more time tearing others down or building them up? How do you talk about YOURSELF? Are you constantly focusing on a bulge, a bumpy area or a jiggly spot? What could you be saying (or NOT saying) that reaffirms for your kids that we’re all beautiful in our own, unique ways?

We’re entering the time of year where we all show a little more skin. Shorts, tank tops, and of course the dreaded swim suit. Here’s where we have the chance to make a difference.

An Atlanta-based radio morning show, The Bert Show, is kicking off summer with their second year of empowerment. They are encouraging us all to take a swimsuit selfie and post it – Instagram, Facebook, whatever, but be BOLD in knowing that you’re powerful, beautiful and confident. The hashtag being used is #SuitYourself. Read more about it here, and see how things went last year!

I want to go one step further. I want to follow that hashtag, and comment on as many of those folks as I can, sharing something I LOVE about each person’s picture. I encourage you to do the same – if not as part of the #SuitYourself campaign, just make it a practice to compliment someone every single day. You will feel far better knowing that you’ve made someone smile than you ever would tearing someone down.

I’m going to add my own hashtag to the mix here, and comment with #YouSuitMe – because you do. You are who you are, and you should ROCK that confidence!

So – #SuitYourself (link to your photo in the comments for me!) and tell others #YouSuitMe!

Cheers!

It’s about that time again! Tax season is officially knocking on my door.

This year is already different, as some staffing changes have meant some shifts in responsibilities. We’re adjusting and adapting, but it’s different. Knew it would be, but until you’re really in it, it’s always hard to know for sure.

I’m feeling really glad still that I decided to take the semester off from school – I think it just would be too much. I’m starting to feel like I’m actually finally recovering a little bit from the overwhelming fall that I had. I’m afraid that if I tried to take on a couple of classes during this tax season, I’d likely push myself right over the proverbial edge!

I’ve been doing some reading, and will have a couple of book reviews up soon.

I’m not one who typically does New Years Resolutions, but I’m trying hard to make me a focus this year. I spent a great deal of 2013 feeling spread very thin. I took on a LOT, even for me, and I felt it. I was tired – exhausted really, a lot of the time. I didn’t do as well as I should have with some of my course work, missing a couple of (very minor) deadlines, which was out of character for me. I accomplished a lot, but did so at the expense of time with my family, and taking care of myself. SO. I have decided that I really have to do a better job of focusing on myself and the relationships that I treasure. One of the first things I’m doing is making it a point to drink more water. I’m going to just take each thing a step at a time and work on little habits to make me a better Megan!

Oh!! I nearly forgot! Last spring I told you guys about Jeep participating in a St. Baldrick’s Event – this year it will be the ladies’ turn!! My daughter and I will be shaving our heads for pediatric cancer research in May!! You can scope out some of the details here, and I’ll be updating on the blog as well.

Happy New Year, Momsensers – here’s to 2014 being our best year ever!

Gold with Envy

I was never a girl who was in to pink anyway. These days, I have to really fight to not be bitter about it.

I don’t begrudge them their month. I’m even continually impressed by how many organizations step up and promote the pink.

It crushes me, however, to watch it push into September.

September is for the kids.

September is gold.

Where are those organizations when the kids are involved? Why isn’t my soup can gold, and why aren’t  my favorite receiver’s gloves gold, and where are the gold ribbon displays at the grocery, and the convenience store, and, well, dammit, where is the gold?

I see it here and there, in part because I am looking. Because much of my social network is looking, and we share the images. We celebrate the businesses that support the kids that are fighting. We hunt it out, the gold.

The pink? It’s everywhere. My emails are full of it, my stores are flooded with it. They’ve worked hard for that, and I know we all know someone who has been touched by breast cancer, but I know so many who have been touched by pediatric cancer! I know how drastically underfunded research is where the kids are concerned. I know what the ramifications can be of the limited treatment options that exist for our kids. I’ve seen the young athlete battling his way back from a wheelchair to a walker. I’ve seen the aspiring singer suffer such dramatic hearing loss.  I’ve visited the grave of a little girl who spent more of her short 10 years on this earth fighting cancer than she did living without it.

So, I try to not be bitter, I know that cancer is hard for anyone, but I cannot help but want the gold to be as recognizable as the pink. For it to be as supported as the pink.

I at least want it to get to use its whole month, without being crowded out by the pink….

Yesterday

It should be such a good week.

It WAS such a good week.

I finally treated myself to a DSLR camera, which I had wanted for a very long time, and just couldn’t justify. It was a want, not a need, and let’s face it moms, wants aren’t typically at the top of our “get” list.

It was finals week, and I was feeling good about my classes, and getting to take a few weeks off before summer session starts.

School is nearly over, and it’s time for the fun, year-end stuff. We’ve been planning a fun trip to an amusement park for the 6th grade, and we’ve had a blast with fundraising. We go on Tuesday, and I’m super-excited.

And then? Yesterday happened.

Part of yesterday I cannot yet talk about specifically. I know that I have friends who are hurting, and that there will be more hurt before healing comes. I’m hurting. A relationship, one that we hoped would grow and flourish, and be wonderful for so many people, is being pulled apart. Not by the parties in that relationship, but by others, higher up, who don’t know. Who don’t understand. It’s painful, and going to get worse.

And after spending time with some of those most directly impacted, wounded by what is coming, I came home and found more bad news.

Naomi, a sweet two year old little girl who lives in my community with her mom, dad, her four year old sister and one year old brother, was just diagnosed with neuroblastoma. Another baby, whose life is now forever changed by the monster that is childhood cancer. Another family, stopped in their tracks, and entering a new normal, on that involves oncologists, MIBG, CT, TPN, DX, stem cell rescue, chemotherapy, radiation, and hopefully sooner rather than later, NED.

It was enough to destroy me last night. I lost it.

Today? It’s enough to strengthen my resolve. Reaffirms for me that, no matter what, I cannot stop fighting for these kids. All the kids.

Tomorrow is a new day, with new challenges and new successes.

I need a few successes for a minute, though. Please.

The “Why”

Friday night, I was as proud as I could possibly be of my boy.

This guy:




Became this guy :

And donated this:












to help a child who has lost their hair to a medical condition. He went ahead and raised money for St. Baldrick’s while he was at it, raising over $3,200.
(I gotta be honest. Right now? Still pretty proud.)
I forget sometimes though that people don’t know why we care this much. Why my son, at 9 years old, decided to grow his hair until it would be long enough to donate. Why he smiled through three years of being mistaken for a girl, and endured endless questions about when he was going to cut that hair.  I hope it helped him that his dad and I were so supportive of what he was doing, that we never hesitated to explain to people that we were incredibly proud of what he was doing and why.
You see, our awareness of the reality of childhood cancers began in 2005, when Jeep was just 4. A little girl in his Sunday School class was diagnosed with Stage IV Neuroblastoma, an aggressive cancer of the adrenal system. Her diagnosis came just days before her fifth birthday. Her name is Morgan, and she was our friend. And so? We talked about it. Morgan was sick, and the doctors were going to have to try to make her better. It was going to make her hair fall out, and there would be lots of Sundays that she wouldn’t be at church with us.
When Jeep started kindergarten a little over a year later, Morgan was a first grader at our school, and we saw her after school every day, when she was well enough to be there. You see, the treatment protocol for neuroblastoma involves several rounds of chemo, surgery to remove as much of the solid tumor as possible, maybe more chemo, some radiation, then a bone marrow aspiration in the hopes that they can get clean marrow. Why do they need clean marrow? Because they then attack the body with enough chemical to kill off the marrow still in the body of an innocent child, and then they return the “clean” marrow to the child and hope it sticks.  Then there are days, weeks, months of isolation. The fear of contracting an illness before the marrow has fully recovered is overwhelming. Your bone marrow is what provides you with your immune system, and for a child who is already weakened by chemo, and who has no immune system, a simple cold that inconveniences you or I? It could be a death sentence.
Morgan’s cancer wouldn’t give up, but neither would her family. Her mom and three younger sisters packed up and they went to New York to be part of a clinical trial, hoping that it would be her cure. Lots of times, her scans would show improvement, things would look better and better, and then? A new spot. Another tumor.
Eventually, after fighting for more than half of her life, on October 2nd of 2010, Morgan passed away.
Early in Morgan’s treatment cycle, we connected with another family whose 2  year old was diagnosed with the same cancer, about 2 weeks after Morgan’s diagnosis. The girls underwent essentially the same treatments, just a week or two apart. Colette is a survivor, but the impact of the treatments on her body are still very much an unknown. Her hearing was severely compromised, and she wears hearing aides now. She’s still to young to know for sure what the impact may be for her in regards to her reproductive system, and the risk of secondary cancers as a direct result of the treatments she received are very high.
In 2011, another friend’s son was diagnosed with medulloblastoma, a brain tumor. Again, treatments, surgery, more treatments.
The part that crushes me is that when you see marketing from cancer fundraisers, you frequently will see young kids. What you don’t see, the reality of it is this:

• There are 12 primary forms of pediatric cancers.
• 1 in 330 kids will be diagnosed with some form of cancer before they are 20.
• Most pediatric cancers are treated using lower doses of adult treatments. Research is needed to provide kids with safer treatment options, providing them with a better future.
• Less than 5% of the federal government’s total funding for cancer research is dedicated to childhood cancers each year.
• In 2009, the American Cancer Society spent $22 of every $100 raised on fundraising expenses, $6 on management, $14 on research for adult cancers, and spent $0.60 of that same $100 raised on research for childhood cancers. Sixty cents.
• Worldwide, each day another 720 children are diagnosed with a form of pediatric cancer, and 250 kids lose their battle.

No one asks for cancer. Some make choices that they know carry a higher risk – smoking, sunbathing, etc, but kids?
Kids have done nothing.
Think about the people you know who have been treated for cancer. Think about how sick they were with chemo. The pain in their bodies. The surgeries. The recovery.
Now, imagine that they’re two.
THAT is why we fight. The reality of it is why I’m passionate about it, and Jeep embraced it early on.
Possibly my most favorite part of Friday night was much later, in the quiet of our own home, as we prepared to say goodnight, as I rubbed his fuzzy shorn head, I asked Jeep if he was glad he’d done it.
“Oh yeah.”
Would you do it again?
“Over and over.”

Such a proud momma…

So…

That boy? The one that just turned twelve?

He has insisted on stealing my heart.

I mentioned in his birthday post that he was growing his hair out to donate it. Today he told me this:

On April 26th, we’re going to join some students at Indiana University and he’s going to take part in a St. Baldrick’s event, shaving his head to raise money and awareness for pediatric cancer.

This decision was not one he took lightly, and I’m so impressed with him, I can’t begin to describe it to you. His hair has become such a big part of his identity, and let’s face it, it’s tough being a tween/teen. This was something he slept on, thought about, and decided he was willing to do.

I am so proud of him. I can’t begin to explain it.

Anyway – if you would like to donate, we’d love that, but if you can’t donate, would you consider sharing his donation site via your social media  of choice? Each tweet or FB post reaches out to someone else, and if we raise nothing more than awareness for the kids who are fighting cancer, that’s one more step.

Jeep’s St. Baldrick’s Fundraising Page

Thanks!

Scare Tactics

My friend Heather tweeted this :

All kids are going to die. Parent-Scare time. MT @latimes: Bounce house injuries rocket; child hurt every 46 minutes lat.ms/10YUnS4

— heather (@operopis) November 26, 2012

I went & read the article, and it talked about how injuries from bounce houses “skyrocketed” between 1995 and 2010. It did NOT  go into how many new bounce house related centers were opened, or how many new bounce houses were made available to rent by rental centers, or anything else to address the relationship between accessibility to the bounce house and injuries, because that might be helpful and even factual, and destroy the scare tactic aspect of the whole thing.

In a time where childhood obesity is at an all-time high, and our kids are difficult to peel away from televisions and video games, does it make sense for us to keep employing scare tactics against physical activities? When the media attempts to take a compilation of data from a scientific article (this one from Pediatrics, the Official Journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics) and make it into a money-generating news story, are they doing us any favors?

It’s stated, both in the actual journal article and in the LA Times piece, that guidelines for use are needed. This is partnered with a photo in the LA Times piece of someone holding a small child while jumping. The issue here will be that the one sentence in the Times article that talks about improving guidelines is overshadowed by “broken bones” and “one injured child every 46 minutes”. People will read this and think “death trap” instead of “I should make sure that my child(ren) is following the posted rules of use for this activity to reduce the risk of injury!”

Folks? Can I encourage you to encourage your kids to still bounce? To ride their bikes? To play like kids should play? Yes, there is every likelihood that at some point, your child will have an injury that requires medical attention. We all hope not, but it happens. Teach them to follow the rules, but encourage them to play with abandon. A broken arm is easier to heal than the long-term effects of obesity, and frankly, I’d rather have great memories of the bounce house than of a Happy Meal anyway.

Tears

Today is the first day of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.

My first goal was to not simply repeat all the things I’ve posted about childhood cancer in this space, so I was re-reading things I’ve posted about childhood cancer.

And then?

I found this post, a Pour Your Heart Out from almost two years ago.

And I was brought to tears again. So? Instead of repeating the things I’ve written about childhood cancer? I’m just going to ask you to read this again. Read it knowing that nearly two years later, it still is powerful enough to ME, to the person who put those words to the page, to bring me to tears.

Because it’s still so true. And raw. And real.

Mario Marathon 5

If you’ve been a reader of my blog for more than a year or so, you’ve already heard about Mario Marathon. After all, I’ve written about it here, here,  here, over here and even shared these cookies with them. Seriously, if you search for “Mario Marathon” on my blog, you’ll find several references.

Why?

Because I am a child of the 80’s. Because Mario and Luigi are icons for my generation. And? Because this group of guys, their wives, their children, they GIVE so much time, energy and money for the benefit of Child’s Play Charity.

Over the last four years, we’ve been invited into a living room where a group of friends are playing video games, and raising money via our donations.

How much?

Nearly a quarter million dollars to date.

Not bad, huh?

That money all goes DIRECTLY to Child’s Play, who  in turn uses it to provide games, books and joy to children who are inpatient at children’s hospitals all over the world.

If you get a minute this weekend, go check it out. The event kicks off today at 11am EST, and will run for several days. If you’d like to donate, you can do so either there on the site, or via the link in my right sidebar.

Now, let’s go save the Princess!

Interrupted

I started this post a few weeks ago… Unfortunately, much of the basis of the post continued to stare me in the face, and I didn’t finish it. Here’s what I had at that point :

Adversity.

Merriam-Webster defines it as  : a state, condition, or instance of serious or continued difficulty or adverse fortune.

We’ve all faced it on many varying levels.

Sometimes, it’s something small at work, sometimes it’s something big. Other days it’s a personal challenge.

And sometimes?

It’s all of the above.

Sometimes, it’s a tax season working with an IRS that has systems so backwards that they don’t know what to do.

Sometimes, it’s family members facing health issues, and you know that time is slipping away faster than you’re ready for it to.

It’s hard, when you’re used to being able to just fix it. When you have always been able to make it better. And now? When it’s all beyond your control, and you can’t fix it?

It breaks you.

It breaks your heart.

I’m glad I didn’t finish it. Instead, what I did was tweet out, and Facebook out, and I asked for prayer. In some places, I had to be a bit cryptic about my request – much of this story is not mine to share, and I did not want to overstep lines. Despite that, many of you replied that you were praying. I prayed.

And you know what?

God is still in the business of answering prayer.

That’s pretty sweet.

It’s not over yet – the challenges we were staring down just a few weeks ago are still there, but they aren’t nearly as intimidating as they were. Instead of rapid declines, we’re seeing steady ascension. Positive movement, positive attitudes, positive spirits.

Just a few weeks ago, I sat at this keyboard broken. My spirit crushed, my heart heavy. Today, I am renewed, refreshed.

And I am grateful – I am grateful to all those who stopped and prayed, who lifted me and my needs up. So grateful.

Thank you.

Hero Mom

She’s no different from any other mom – when our kids are sick, we take care of them. We take them to doctors appointments, dispense medications, cuddle and comfort them.

The difference for her was that her child had cancer. The doctors were oncologists. The medications were injected through a port in her two year old daughter’s chest. Cuddles and comforts were in hospital rooms around IVs. A fever meant an ER trip, not another dose of Tylenol. Holidays were spent in isolation after a stem cell transplant.

That was six years ago now, and today that little girl is going to be nine soon. She’s cancer-free, and full of life. And she wants to share her story.

Allstate & The Blog Frog have an opportunity where we can help.

You don’t have to sign up. No emails, no linking your Facebook or Twitter. You just go to the page & click  the “Vote” button. All we need is to finish in the top five. You can vote once a day, and each and every vote is so valuable.

You see, one of the Hero Moms, one of the top five based on our votes, will win $2,500. My Hero Mom? She’ll get the money they need for her to take her daughter on a mission trip to share her story of faith and her battle with cancer, along with the after-effects of treatment. The remaining money will be donated to the Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation to help fund research grants so that in the future, kids will have better treatment options.

Please, click on this image to go vote for my post for my Hero Mom, Tammy, and her daughter Colette.

I’ll love ya forever!

Modification

I whined at her.

After being certain I was on death’s door, and whining at you all, I whined at Julia via twitter.

And then?

I sucked it up and made my person MOVE.

It wasn’t Julia’s workout of the day, I only had managed part of it. (Seriously, the woman wanted 45-second planks. That’s a form of torture, I think it may have been outlawed by something like the Geneva Convention!)

What did I do? How kind of you to ask! I busted out my Wii. With my children watching in horror, I used the “tough” workout mode thing on our Just Dance 2, threw down better than 1100 “sweat” points, and then went ahead and died again.

I have decided that it’s not cheating. It’s recognizing my own physical limitations, and modifying my workout.  Because this is not about doing Julia’s Mom Workout of the Day (because Julia is a personal trainer, and is amazing, and I am in awe of her!) but it’s about doing more for ME. It’s about getting healthier. It’s about strengthening my core, maybe carving an inch or two off of my mommy pooch, and just FEELING better.

But, she did promise that tomorrow would be easier.

Thank goodness.

Um. Yeah. It’s challenging!

I blew day one.

Day two isn’t much better.

Day one coincided with extension deadline day, and I worked a long day. I did not get up early (like I intended)  to do any working out for the 30 Day Challenge, and I did not do it when I got home.

Because I sucked.

It’s now 4:08 on day two. I did the warm up.

After I finished dying, I did some of the workout.

And died more.

People?

I am a wuss.

I’m going to keep working on this! I do not want to be a wuss!

Julia? She’s not a wuss. Her JOB is to kick my butt. She’s doing a fine job of it.

I *CAN* do this, even if I can’t do everything Julia wants me to do. I can do some exercise, and get healthier.

First, though? I’m gonna get another glass of water.

30 Day Challenge : In the Beginning

So, I almost bailed before I even started.

And then I remembered I posted a whole post about it.

There’s that accountability thing.

As such, I have just shared these things with Julia, as we kick off for real tomorrow, and I’m sharing them with you all as well.

      

Please disregard the chaos that is the front of our refrigerator. We were looking for a better place to take the pic, but frankly, we didn’t have one.

The profile picture was the one that was important to me – that squishy part just above my waistband? THAT is my target as far as working on my overall shape. My core. I’d like to tighten that up a bit, strengthen the core muscles and know that it’s also helping my back. (Because it will!)

Here are the other details:

Weight : 115 lbs

(Height, although not requested, is 5'4")

Biceps : 10.5"

Waist : 29.25"

Hips : 37.5"

Thighs : 19.75" (left) 19.0" (right)

Chest : 31.5"

Pushups : 28 (16 military, next 12 needed knees down)

Situps : 19

(The pushups and situps were what I could do in one minute.)

Ok, Julia. Bring.It.On. My squishy stuff is ready for you!

Are you in!?

You know how sometimes, you’re just feeling blah?

You’re tired, cranky, not eating well, not getting enough exercise or movement into your day. Not drinking enough water, drinking TOO MUCH coffee/tea/soda.

I’m there.

And I’m feeling it. And seeing it!

My skin looks awful, the circles under my eyes are vicious, I’m tired, I spent much of last night bursting into tears over absolutely nothing. My husband and kids are having to tip-toe around me because I’m some sort of physical, mental and emotional wreck.

And I *HATE* it.

Here’s the deal – I’m not overweight, but I am out of shape. My eating habits stink, because I’m that girl that can eat anything and not gain weight, so I do. And then I want to be all surprised that I don’t feel like a million bucks! Duh, Megan! You’re fueling your body with junk, you don’t exercise regularly, you are going to get from it what you put into it.

I was going to the gym for a while a couple of years ago, and it was great. Except for the part where I had to get up at some ridonkulous hour of the morning to go so that I could be home to get everyone up for work/school. That was fine until the busiest part of tax season hit, and I wasn’t leaving work until midnight (or later) and sleep won. Then, I blew a disk in my back and was scared to do anything.

Now? My back is feeling pretty good, I know I need to do this, and so, you all are gonna be my “gym buddies” – holding me accountable for sticking with this over the 30 days.

And maybe even joining me, if you so choose! (You don’t have to share all of it with us if you don’t want to!)

I’m going to join my blogging friend Julia in her 30 Day Challenge, which will be kicking off soon. Sign up with me right over here at her Mom Workout of the Day blog (and give it a follow – she posts quick, easy at home workouts each day to help you feel better, even without doing the challenge!)

So – who’s in!?

Happy Birthday to Me!

It’s my birthday.

You can get me a present.

It’s easy, and it’s free, and I’ll love you forever.

You see, it’s also Childhood Cancer Awareness Day. But people don’t know that. The pink ribbon products for October have already begun creeping in.

Please, don’t misunderstand what I am trying to say. I think support for breast cancer is important, too, but September? September is for our kids.

Kids like Colette.

This was Colette in 2005. In May of that year, just about 2 weeks after Morgan, Colette was diagnosed with Stage IV neuroblastoma. She was two and a half years old.

Colette endured surgery. Chemotherapy. Radiation. A Stem Cell transplant.

Can I share a little something with you?

Typically, pediatric cancers do not have their own treatment options. What kids get is simply smaller doses of adult treatments. Sadly, these treatments can leave kids with lasting issues. Colette? She now wears hearing aides, as the treatments she endured saved her live, but stole much of her hearing. Secondary cancers are common. So is infertility.

The National Cancer Institute’s federal budget=$4.6 billion. Breast cancer research receives approximately 12% of that funding. Prostate cancer gets 7%. ALL TWELVE major groups of  pediatric cancers COMBINED received less than 3% of it.

Maybe I’m biased. That could be. And that’s ok – this area is my passion, my focus.

I believe our children deserve better. And I think, as we continue to raise awareness of the reality of the issue, there will be a shift.

This is Colette 6 years after diagnosis. This summer, she officially hit the “Five Year Cancer-Free” mark, which is huge.

I want more of our kids to see the five year mark.

I want there to be better options. New treatments. Less long-term side effects.

I want people to KNOW.

And that part? The knowing? That’s what I want from you, for my birthday. I want you to help others know. I’ve created a Twibbon that will let you add a gold ribbon to your twitter and facebook images. Would you consider that? Just for today.

It would be a pretty sweet birthday gift.

If you do, please leave me a comment and let me know, won’t you?

Thanks.

Gold

I touch on it when I blog in September.

It’s so very important to me. Especially now, as a mom.

Six and a half years ago, it became real. It wasn’t just a St. Jude commercial, distant and vague. It was Morgan. It was a little girl in our boys’ Sunday School class. It was a face we knew, they were parents we talked to, it was a little sister we saw.

It was cancer.

It was aggressive.

It was already stage 4, and they had just found it.

Literally two days before her fifth birthday.

As they told us in that service, I wept, clinging to my daughter. I shared glances with my friend Bethany, who also held her little girl, both of us afraid to let go. Afraid.

And it wasn’t our child. I can’t begin to fathom the fear in the hearts of Morgan’s mom and dad.

Chemo. Radiation. Stem Cell Transplant. 3f8. Central lines. So much to put such a little person through, and they face it. Every day.

It tears my heart out to think about kids having to face the monster that is cancer. It’s difficult enough for an adult, but adults can understand what’s happening. They can face the repeated sticks for blood draws, the injections, the scans, knowing that it’s to help them get better. How do you explain that to a child?

How do you talk about death, their own potential death, with your child?

We lost Morgan nearly a year ago now. She fought, with her family by her side, for 5 and a half years. She was ten years old.

Ten.

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.

I wear the Gold ribbon for her. For our other friends, those we’ve lost, those still fighting, and those who are NED*.

*NED is “No evidence of disease. Many pediatric cancers are not declared “cured” until the patient has been NED for 5 years, the typical window of reoccurrence.