Advice, Great Times, and Karma

Yea, the red hair really got flaming yesterday but I've calmed down a bit. Mr. A and my Sweetie convinced me not to send the letter to Coach Dingbat. I will admit that it was rather acidic.

Let that be a warning.

Anyway, the coach is the type of person that would hold it personally against Mr. A. That's not fair, but that's simply how she operates. In the long run, Mr. A will come out ahead. My Sweetie (aka my anchor) explained that to me and slowly the coherent part of my "Mom instinct" agreed with him.

Last night at the swim meet, I spoke with some other parents that have the same concerns and have sent emails to the coach. The coach justified her actions by saying she makes all of her decisions based on times. You really can't argue with a tangible item like a that.

But I've decided to write a calm letter to only the athletic director asking him to explain the practice attendance policy for the swim team.

Yesterday was the District 9 swim meet. There were seven high schools there. Each school can enter four swimmers per event so that's 28 swimmers for every race. Prelims are in the morning and finals are in the evening. The top 16 swimmers go to finals. Actually, the top 8 swimmers go to the finals heat and swimmers 9-16 are in the consolation heat. Then the swimmers have to make a time requirement in the finals to go onto Regionals.

Got all that?

Mr. A was put into two events that he usually doesn't swim... the 200 yd Freestyle and the 500 yd Freestyle. He didn't receive any direction from Coach Dingbat as to how to swim the events. So I sat at my desk at work and texted him advice and strategy on how to swim the events. I also had to explain to my boss what I was doing because every time she walked by I was typing furiously on my phone. Thank goodness for unlimited texting!

Guess what! My son listened to the advice of his mother! He made it to consolations for both events. I was so proud of him!

I raced down to the pool after work for finals. I sat down on the bleachers just as he stepped onto the block for his first event. I don't think I ever cheered so loud. Other parents were looking at me like why are you cheering, it's only consolations.

When it was all said and done, Mr. A dropped 9 seconds off his 200 free time and finished 10th overall. For his 500 free he kicked some serious butt. He beat swimmers that he usually doesn't beat. He dropped 19 seconds from his 500 time and finished 9th overall. He said he felt really good in the pool. He credits my advice for the drop in his times.

Oh my joyful heart!

No, Mr. A didn't qualify for Regionals. But that's okay. He's just a "regular" high school swimmer and he's freaking amazing. Of course, I might be a tad bit bias.

Last night, as I feel asleep, I thought of one of the numerous texts I sent Mr. A yesterday morning. He texted upset because Coach Dingbat was so disorganized, not supporting the swimmers, and he wasn't in a relay. I told him to relax, go with the flow, do his personal best, and remember that one day Karma will catch up with Coach Dingbat.

I love Karma.

The Red Hair is Out

What's scarier than a pissed-off mama bear? A pissed-off mama bear with red hair.

Read the letter I just wrote to Mr. A's dingbat swim coach. Of course, I may edit it a bit later tonight when I'm calmer.

Dear Coach Dingbat -

Now that the regular swim season is over, I would like to express some concerns regarding your coaching philosophy, skills and lack of organization. I have refrained from discussing this with you during the season because I realized that you're inexperienced at coaching at the high school level and I had hopes that the situation would improve as the season progressed.

The biggest issue is the division of the team between the regular high school swimmers and those swimmers that belong to USA Swimming clubs. Why are the USA Swimmers granted exception from attending YZHS team practices and then given the choice of which meets they would like to attend so that they may make their four meet minimum requirement to attend Districts? In other states, that practice is called "bringing in ringers" and is illegal. So why is it acceptable practice at YZ High School? Are other athletic teams at YZHS allowed to use this method?

The fastest swimmer in the pool isn't always the most valuable member of the team. As far as I can tell, you haven't considered the dedicated "regular" swimmers that attend every practice and every meet. Except to use them as fillers in B relays and the events that aren't filled by the USA Swimmers.

For example, at the District meet today, Mr. A wasn't allowed to swim any of his best events. I'm sure you have noticed by now that Mr. A is a team player and is always willing to swim where he's needed. However, at the District meet he was denied the opportunity to swim those events where he would mostly likely succeed. Based on the 200 IM times in the prelims, Mr. A could have easily made it to finals. But yet he was excluded from the event by you.

This division of the swimmers has caused severe demoralization of the athletes and lost you any respect that the regular swimmers may have had for you at the beginning of the season.

I also personally find it vulgar that your own daughter was interviewed by the media for "Athlete of the Week" at the YZHS practice. Especially since up until that point she had never attended a YZHS practice. That whole display was inappropriate and a huge slap in the face to the team members.

Showcasing USA Swimmers, that don't attend team practices, in order to attract the attention of colleges is self-serving and destructive to the team as a whole. Your behavior only encourages and reinforces this type of elitist mentality.

I sincerely hope that if you continue to coach the YZHS swim team next year, policies are put in place that all team members meet the same practice and meet requirements and are all treated equally.

I also strongly suggest that you apologize to your "regular high school" swimmers for the way you have treated them this season.

Sincerely,
PLRH

Living Life

About six months ago, my mother and I decided to open an online Etsy shop to sell baby quilts like the one pictured above. We planned how many quilts, styles, patterns, price ranges, etc. We even picked a name for our shop. I also set up a sewing nook in my bedroom so I could keep my Sweetie awake at all hours when inspiration struck. Mom & I agreed that if the endeavor wasn’t successful after a certain period of time, that we would donate the quilts to Project Linus. Something my mother does on a regular basis anyway. No harm, no foul.

Yesterday on my drive home from work, I thought to myself… Oh my goodness, Halloween is on Saturday. I marveled at how fast the year has gone by and that Mom & I haven’t started our Etsy shop yet. In fact, I haven’t cut or stitched a single quilt block. The next thing that popped into my head was… Life got in the way.

What?

Did I really just think that? Who in the world created such a lame excuse? Life got in the way?

I mentally slapped myself. Life hasn’t gotten in the way. I’ve been living life.

Instead of meeting a self-imposed deadline to start an online retail business, I’ve done the following:

Gone to swim meets, celebrated one year with the new hardware, went to Rays games, made a new friend through the blogosphere, visited with an old friend… twice, watched my youngest son play real golf, went to the state history fair, had many date nights with my Sweetie, went to my first college football game (in the President’s Box), went to a U2 concert without the aid of tranquilizers, gave math advice that consisted of “go ask Dad”, went away for a romantic weekend with my Sweetie, cried while my oldest son was at swim camp, had Mohs surgery, made only two trips to the emergency room, helped my parents decorate my aunt’s new room, celebrated many birthdays of loved ones, proof-read countless school papers, said the phrase “put on sunscreen” eight hundred forty-seven million times, cried at Homecoming…

Have I forgotten anything?

So no, life hasn’t gotten in the way. I’ve been living and loving it.

Stand-Up Philosopher

I was feeling ferschemeled yesterday evening and not in the mood to do anything. My Sweetie asked me if I had blogged yet. That question instantly prompted my Sweetie and Mr. A to fall into a modified skit from History of the World, Part I.

Imagine Mel Brooks as Comicus and Bea Arthur as the Unemployment clerk...

Occupation?

Stand-up Philosopher.

What?

Stand-up Philosopher. I coalesce the vapor of human experience into a viable and logical comprehension.

Oh! A Blogger.

Hrmmm.

Did you blog today?

No.

Did you try to blog today?

Yes.

Not only did my husband and oldest son make fun of my blogging they even high-fived each other in front of me when they were finished with their skit.

Oh yea, they also made me laugh.

Image courtesy: blogs.worldbank.org/governance/blogs/alfredo

The Responsible Daughter

Back in 1997, the boys and I moved to Florida and I bought a house exactly two miles from my parents' house. Ever since then we've been living the extended-family lifestyle. We have had our share of ups & downs over the years but it has definitely been worth it.

The relationship between the boys and their grandparents is wonderful. I truly believe that the kids have kept my parents young and the boys have learned a lot from the Silent Generation. Sure, sometimes I get caught in the middle but I really enjoy watching their interaction.

By the way, how did my parents turn out to be the coolest grandparents ever?

When the boys and I met my Sweetie we also met his parents who lived only 45 minutes north of us. After we were married, our extended family grew some more. The boys suddenly had two sets of really cool grandparents to spoil them.

Then a few years ago, Florida became a magnet for our relatives. My sister-in-law and her family moved down here. The boys finally had a cousin living close by... only 45 minutes south of us.

That's also when holidays started getting a little tricky.

Two years ago, my sister and her family (the hellcats) moved to Florida. They live about an hour north of us. That's when holidays became nearly gosh darn impossible. Our house is centrally located but it's also happens to be the smallest out of all of them. Plus my sister-in-law's in-laws live locally as well. So just add another 17 people into the mix.

Now for the newest emigrant. Today my parents are bringing my aunt from Chicago to Florida to live in an assisted living facility (ALF). The ALF is literally within bicycle distance from our house. The boys are looking forward to visiting her and playing cards. But unfortunately, her mind is on a steady decline. Hence, the move.

All this family close by is a blessing but it also brings a lot of stress. My aunt's move painfully reminds me that one day I will move from the role of child to caregiver. Some days I wonder if my parents over estimate me by choosing me as their medical surrogate.

Thanks for the pressure M&D! It's not like I'm trying to raise two teenage boys here!

Which brings me to my point... the boys and I wouldn't have made it this far in life without my parents. I know when the time comes for me to take care of them, I'll be ready and I'll make them proud.

I guess that's why I'm the responsible daughter.

Note: I wanted to use a photo of an oak tree to symbolize a family tree. But I only had this photo with the limbs covered in Spanish Moss. Metaphorically speaking, what does that say about my family?

How does it feel to be All-American?

3-Day Pass

My Sweetie and I went to the Don CeSar for some much needed R&R this weekend. I felt a little silly going to a beach resort after recently having skin cancer sliced off my ear. But the purpose of the mini-vacation was to unwind and not work on our tans. The only beach time we had was a stroll along the shoreline Friday evening before dinner.

Every thing about our visit was wonderful. The food was fantastic. The staff treated us like royalty even if we were just from one county down the road. There is something to be said for walking through the halls of a massive hotel and to always be greeted with a smile and a "good morning." Many times we were greeted by name. The only rude people we ran into were the guests so we just ignored them.

Our room overlooked the courtyard of the hotel. Before we went out to dinner on Saturday night we were able to watch a wedding ceremony in the courtyard below. It was beautiful and we felt all warm & fuzzy being silent observers of the couple's special day. However, I am glad we closed our windows before the ceremony because I burst out laughing when I saw one of the three flower girls picking her nose.

A little further north of the Don CeSar at John's Pass the annual seafood festival was in full swing. We went to people watch and take some photos...

For some reason, I got a little carried away taking photos of pelicans...

At lunch time, we went to the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. I wasn't about to eat seafood at a street fair! Not with my track record of food poisoning!

I had a lot of fun with the Forrest Gump paraphernalia.

Perhaps a little too much fun because I got really silly and started quoting my favorite lines from the movie. I have quite a few. In fact, I think I may have been reciting entire scenes. Eventually, the tourists at the table next to us were staring at me. Don't worry, it didn't slow me down. How did I know they were tourists? Because they were all wearing t-shirts that said FLORIDA and drinking fruity, tropical drinks at lunch.

It was a great weekend! Just look at the relaxation on my Sweetie's face. :)

Ringtones, Star Wars, & Rule Breaking

These days we are all so well trained to respond to the beeps, pings, and dings of our electronic devices that we would make Pavlov proud. In order to help myself from reacting every time my cell phone rings, I've assigned different ringtones to all of my most frequent callers. That way I know who is calling without even looking at my phone and then I can decide if I need to scramble to answer it.

For example, when my parents call from their home phone or either of their cell phones, my phone plays the overture from Carmen. Not familiar with that opera? The overture is the main piece of music used in the original Bad News Bears movie. Trust me, it really fits my parents.

This evening, I stopped at Target on my way home from work. By the time I got to Target, I really needed to use the ladies' room. I know, I know, I should have gone before I left the office. When I was in the stall in the ladies' room, my phone started ringing. Now please understand that I never, ever answer the phone in the ladies' room. I truly believe that's why voicemail was invented.

But I had a dilemma. The Star Wars finale music was coming from the bottom of my purse. That's G-Man's ringtone. My "Miss Manners" instinct was to let it go to voicemail. But my "Mom" instinct was to answer the call. I thought that it must be something important for him to call. If he just wanted to say hello, he would have texted. Right? It must be an emergency! In our family, an emergency involves: a) someone bleeding to death, b) the house is on fire, or c) a meteor hurtling towards the earth.

So I broke one of my cardinal rules and answered the phone. A few minutes later, I walked out of the ladies' room in disbelief at my own actions. Then I found the sunflower seeds G-Man requested for his golf game on Saturday.

Image: Lucas Films

Proud Mother

Do you remember this post? I rolled my eyes at my sister bragging about her children and their swimming endeavors. I also asked that if I ever get carried away boasting about my children that YOU (all 9 of my readers) are to call me on the carpet. Well, that time has come.

Let me apologize in advance that truly I can’t help myself because I’m about to burst with pride.

Mr. A is a junior in high school. It’s time to think about college. Many of his classmates have started visiting schools. A couple of his friends needed to know their class rank for their conversations with admission offices. Mr. A was curious about his rank also so he went to the guidance office to request a report. Last night he showed me the computer printout. I had to squint a little bit to read the type since I didn’t have my reading glasses on. But once my eyes finally focused I was able to read this:

001/456

Image Credit:

Edgar Maxence, 1871-1954

Peacock Profile, before 1896

pastel and gouache with silver paper

46 x 30 cm

© 2007 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

ADAGP Paris

William Tell's Assistant

My ear seems to be healing from the fish scaling (Mohs surgery). The brochure says that it could take 4-6 weeks to completely heal. I believe that the healing is proceeding because I’ve moved from the oh-my-goodness-my-ear-is-on-fire phase to the constantly itching phase. Itching means it’s healing, right?

I still get queasy each time my Sweetie changes my bandage. Yesterday, I had to do it myself and I almost enlisted the help of the kids but somehow I struggled through. To me, my ear looks like it got nicked by a flaming arrow. S says that it looks great and that it will all grow back and look completely normal. He’s so full of beans that his eyes are brown.

When we first took the pressure bandage off, I showed my wound to the boys. You know, as a life lesson. Now they don’t whine so much when I tell them to apply sunscreen. Sometimes they even do it before I ask! That alone makes the notch in my ear worth it.

Fashion Reverse

While window shopping on Main Street after eating at our favorite sushi restaurant, I notice a couple of items that made me stop and stare.


Some people like to wear flip-flops and sandals year-round in south Florida. Personally, I don't mind wearing closed-toe shoes and sometimes socks in the cooler weather. But I wondered when it's appropriate to wear the sheepskin-lined flip-flops by Ugg. When the mercury dips into the 50's and you still want to show off your pedicure?


My other question is this... When did Pat Benatar start designing clothes for Chico's?

Chili Today!

We woke up to an approximate 30 degree drop in temperature this weekend. That means the weather was 65 degrees with 50% humidity instead of 93 degrees and 112% humidity. Chores and errands kept me busy all weekend and I wasn't able to truly enjoy the glorious weather until this afternoon. For the first time, I rode along in the cart while my Sweetie and G-Man played golf. It was so peaceful and quiet... much better than a swim meet. Here are some photos I snapped...

S putting for par.

S wondering how he's going to get out of the Mickey Mouse bunker.

G-Man thought he shot par but it turned out to be a bogey.


For some reason G-Man was very proud of his broken tee with the grass stuck in it.

The impossible 18th hole over the river.

Cart rider, photo by G-Man.

It was beautiful today and I had a lot of fun. I especially loved watching G-Man play real golf. By the end of the round, we were all ready to go home and eat the chili I made this weekend. Yeah! We got chili before Halloween this year!

Love, Peace & U2

Several years ago, long before I ever owned an iPod, I was organizing my CDs and noticed that I had 13 CDs by Sting. At that point, I decided that Sting didn’t need any more of my money. Sting, you’re a great songwriter. But really, what have you done with my money over the years? All I know is that you bought a drafty, old castle and started an organic winery. While those things might be great for you, I have a hard time seeing the global impact.

U2, on the other hand, still gets my money. As a group, U2 publicly supports the One Campaign. One is an organization that does many wonders in impoverished countries such as provide HIV/AIDS, TB, and Malaria medications; provide mosquito nets; and dig wells for clean drinking water. In the past four years, One has raised over $14 million for medications. Bono is co-founder of One but didn’t want to be the primary spokesperson. He wanted people to contribute for the right reason not because of his popularity.

Each person experiences U2, the music, and the concerts in their own way. I was surprised by some of the comments fans left on U2.com regarding the concert. Some complained about the heat. Yes, it was 93 degrees at night. U2 is good but they can’t control the weather. Many complained that their favorite songs weren’t played. Well, with almost 30 years worth of music under their belts, the band had to pick and choose from each era. Personally, I think they did a great job at selecting the set list. One woman called Bono out for flubbing the lyrics on four songs. As Mr. A pointed out, going to the concert is nothing like listening to the CD. Exactly! The woman must spend too much time memorizing the CDs. Plus, doesn’t she realize that Bono loves to ad lib? He’s also very talented at segueing into other songs such as “Blackbird” by The Beatles, “Lean On Me” and “Amazing Grace.”

Mr. A now understands why U2 is such a great live band, G-Man thinks Bono is wild and crazy running all over the stage, and my Sweetie thought it was better than the Vertigo concert.

For myself, the concert last week almost brought me to the brink of sensory overload.

First of all, I was in a stadium with 70,000 other people and didn’t panic. That is freaking amazing and liberating!

I loved the stage both as a piece of art and a feat of engineering. The band called it their “spaceship” but I think it looked more like the underwater lair of the baddie from “The Spy Who Loved Me.” I was also totally awed by the logistics and technology which happen to include a live link-up with the International Space Station.

Did you know that the concert was completely carbon neutral? U2 tried to be as green as possible. Where they lacked they bought carbon credits to make up the difference. How cool and responsible is that?

One of my favorite parts of the evening was when Bono thanked the crowd for all of their support over the years. He thanked us. He thanked me. It was very gracious and sincere. The band did the same thing four years ago at the Vertigo tour. His speech brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to shake all of their hands and thank them.

Then there’s the music… it’s personal for each and every U2 fan. Last Friday night I sang at the top of my lungs with such joy that it was almost spiritual. At one point, the band played and 70,000 people sang an entire chorus of “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” without lead from Bono. That kind of unity is beautiful and somehow I believe that’s U2’s wish on a global scale.

Photos taken with my phone...

About 5,000 fans on the field when the show started. I'm better with crowds but I was very thankful for my own seat and personal space on the 3rd tier.

During the concert, I couldn't get a clear photo because everything was vibrating!

Top photo courtesy U2.com

Out, damn'd spot!

The Mohs surgery went well today. The dermatologist was able to remove all the cancer in two slices/excisions/procedures... whatever it's called. I have to keep the lovely pressure bandage on for 48 hours so I don't know exactly how large a wound I have. Stitches weren't required so it couldn't be too big. But until Friday, I do look a little bit like van Gogh... just minus the beard.

My entire experience this morning was interesting. The doctor himself came out to the main waiting room to fetch me. On the way back to the surgical room, he explained that he was short a nurse because she had been bitten by a rattlesnake yesterday. I was already a bundle of nerves and the last thing I wanted to hear about was a snake bite.

I got all the details anyway and I'm happy to report that the nurse will be okay.

Once situated in the surgical room, the doctor asked if I was familiar with the Mohs procedure. I told him that I did my research and that both my parents had Mohs surgery. He replied that this would be my first of many. I greatly appreciate his candor but my stomach did a flip-flop anyway.

While the local anesthetic kicked in, the back-up nurse came in and exclaimed, "Wow! You're young!" No kidding. I was easily HALF the age of the other patients in the waiting room.

She also commented that my blood pressure was really good. Yea, that would be the xanax I took earlier.

I didn't feel a thing during the procedure. However, if you've ever scaled a fish, you know what Mohs surgery on the ear sounds like.

After the doctor cauterized the wound and the nurse bandaged me up, she showed me to the surgical waiting room. I had about 45 minutes to kill while the doctor checked the pathology on the specimen he had taken.

That's when the most exciting part of my visit happened. A fully-shackled prisoner escorted by a sheriff's deputy in body armor shuffled past the doorway.

Well, either that or the triple chocolate biscotti I savored during my wait.

Anyway, I accidentally overheard that the prisoner was there for a full-body screening. I was extremely curious how he was suppose to get out of the jumpsuit and into the gown with the shackles in place.

The other two Mohs patients in the waiting room went home with only one excision. When the nurse came for me, she looked like she had just run over my dog. Back we went to the surgical room for some more fish scaling. Fun!

Then back to the waiting room for another 45 minutes. I was alone so I listened to my iPod with only one ear bud. It took me back to the days before Walkmans. That's also when I realized that I text out of boredom. I kept reaching for my phone only to remember that it was in my purse with my Sweetie in the main waiting room.

Finally, I got the all clear and was released. Overall, the process took two hours and wasn't too traumatic. Except for the rattlesnake story.

Afterwards, my Sweetie took me out to brunch. He's such a great guy!

Bad Spot, Bad!

Tomorrow morning I'm having Mohs surgery to remove the rest of the basal cell carcinoma on my ear. Basal cell carcinoma is the most common type of skin cancer and the easiest to cure. Plus the dermatologist caught it early. Overall, I should be in pretty good shape. However, I can't help but wonder if by this time tomorrow, will I look like van Gogh?

Image:
Vincent van Gogh
Self-portrait with Bandage
Courtauld Institute Galleries

I've Got Everything

Originally, I intended to entitle this post "I've Got Nothing" because I'm still so tired that I can't think of anything to write about.

I planned to post the above photo of G-Man for your visual entertainment. Yes, it's strikingly similar to the one I posted of Mr. A on his birthday. The boys are my reluctant photography guinea pigs, afterall.

But when I opened up the photo and looked at my son's face I was reminded that I have everything in life that I need. Yes, everything. That makes me a very lucky and happy woman.

Now, since all of my co-workers met Mr. Mikhail Baryshnikov over the past few days and I DID NOT, I'm off to watch White Nights. Provided I can get the remote away from my Sweetie on Monday Night Football.

Wish me luck... just a tad bit more, please?

Birthday Recap: A Photo Essay

AP Chemistry homework on his birthday. :(


Surf and Turf!
Crab legs, steak, garlic mash, and a huge salad! Mmmm!


Hungry teenager... need I say more?




Yes, he plans to take over the world some day.

Mr. A's World Domination cake by the Pastry Goddess.

Miss N is a very sweet girl. Even Molly approves of her.

Make a wish!

My earth science teacher was wrong... the center of the earth is actually Key Lime filling.

Magma only sounds cool.

Running on Fumes

What a week it's been!

First of all, I can't believe that I haven't written or read any blogs this week! The two posts this week were scheduled ahead of time because I knew that time would be scarce. G-Man challenged me to write a post every day for a month. Well, October is already shot to heck so I will have to accept G-Man's challenge in November.

The BIG project at work is almost finished. Tomorrow is the last day. I honestly don't know how no one has collapsed from exhaustion... heat or otherwise. Partially, because I'm such a mom and keep reminding everyone to stay hydrated. Seriouosly, 93 degrees in October? Even that's a bit much for Florida. After tomorrow we can go back to our regular Monday through Friday work gig. Of course, without a break.

Did I mention that I was running a fever again? No, not the swine flu. But I am back on antibiotics.

Mr. A turned 16 in the middle of the week and we had an awesome birthday dinner. I promise to share some photos soon for those who don't know me on Facebook. Surprisingly, Mr. A's birthday wasn't as traumatic as Homecoming. Possibly because I already had my catharsis two weeks ago. Or perhaps I've been so busy this week that I can barely remember my name.

There was also a huge tri-county high school swim meet today. I drove like a wild woman and was able to get there just in time to see Mr. A swim his final event. I might possibly be the world's worst swimming mother. But then again, I think I'm the only mother on the team that has a job that actually pays money and provides health insurance.

The biggest event this week (after the birthday) was the U2 concert. I'm not sure I even have words to describe it. I will have to save this story for later when I have a few more brain cells functioning. Let's just say it was an experience. One I would repeat in a heartbeat.

Suave Sixteen

Sixteen years ago today at 3:07 p.m. Mr. A, you made me a mother.

Some things have changed through the years. For example, your shoe size.

Other things have not. Like the need for a nap after a busy day.

But there is one thing that hasn’t change since that first night we spent together when I stared into your clear blue eyes, my love for you.

As we were snuggled together in the hospital room and the night was quiet, a Carpenter’s song popped into my head and I hummed it to you. Sixteen years later that song still makes me think of you.

Do you remember about a year ago when we were at the barber shop and the song came on the radio? Without thinking I sang along to the radio and rested my head on your shoulder. After the song, all the old, crusty, military men clapped and you didn’t even blush.

Because of you, I know a mother’s love and it has put me on top of the world.

Happy Birthday Kiddo!

Pink & Purple

October is the the awareness month for two of my most passionate causes. If you see a pink ribbon, you automatically recognize it for Breast Cancer Awareness. But did you know that a purple ribbon represents Domestic Violence Awareness?

Susan G. Komen for the Cure has done wonders to make the public aware of breast cancer and the need for prevention and a cure. Talking about breasts and cancer is no longer taboo. To that I say, Ladies, check your boobs and check them often!

Now, if you were to ask any woman walking down the street what national organization there is for domestic violence awareness and prevention, would she be able to answer? Would you? The answer is the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. How many women know that there are local organizations like SPARCC that help countless women each year?

So why is that? Women that battle breast cancer are survivors. Women in abusive relationships are considered "damaged goods." No one wants to talk about domestic violence. It's shameful. It's embarrassing. It's none of my business. To that I say, RUBBISH!

I was married to the military for five years. The incidence rate of domestic violence in the military is very high. We lived in rural Louisiana for two of those five years. During that time there were three murders on the military post. All three were domestic violence.

Now remember, not all abuse is physical. Abuse can be verbal, mental, psychological. That type of abuse can last years longer and leave much deeper emotional scars.

What can you do this month? Make a donation to Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Or check out the wish list for SPARCC and make a donation that way. Get involved. Become aware. And if need be, ask for help.

As for myself, I'm a survivor and I've never had breast cancer.

The Search for Spot

First, I would like to announce that I have found a new dermatology group. My previous dermatologist is an excellent doctor and I like her very much. But I feel that my dermatological goals and the goals of her practice have gone our separate ways.

The new derm group practices solely in the prevention and treatment of skin cancer. That is my goal as well.

My appointment this past Thursday went very well. I didn't have my anxiety attack until after I left the building.

Seriously, the entire staff was great. The PA remembered me from the health benefits fair and was glad that I came in for a full screening. After taking my full history: family history of skin cancer including melanoma, personal history of basal cell carcinoma, skin cancer presenting in my 30's, etc... The PA asked that the doctor come in and examine me as well. They were all over me like white on rice.

The good news: The suspicious spot on the tip of my nose was a small cyst that was exfoliated off. But the area will still be watched for recurrence. However, there are two other spots on my nose that are in the "wait and watch" category.

The not so good news: The doctor found a possible basal carcinoma on my ear. The PA performed a biopsy and we'll have the results back next week.

While performing the biopsy the PA was chatty (possibly to distract me), she said that women usually don't get these spots on their ears because they have hair to cover them. It's usually the men that need the spots removed from the ears. Hello? Did she not see the size of the cab doors she was working on? My mother used to Scotch tape my ears down as a baby. My brother used to call me Dumbo. Skin cancer on my ears has always been one of my fears. Hence, the wide brimmed hats I wear instead of ball caps.

I will let you know the results of the biopsy when I get them.

Also, if anyone in the area is looking for a skin cancer doctor, let me know and I'll pass along his info.

I have ding in my cab door.

World Smile Day

Ignore the technical stuff and watch the video. Then share with someone that makes you smile.