A Voice

I have sat down to write several times this week.  Each time, I would get a couple of sentences-or paragraphs in and stop.  I was afraid that the words would be misunderstood.  For complaining, whining or a full-out pity party.  I also knew that I made a promise to be honest.  Honest is tough for me when I am struggling this much.  Because honest makes me cry and feel completely broken.  Weak.

Then I did some catch-up on the computer (a painful task for my hands and fingers these days).  I read a post that caught my attention the other day, but didn't have time to read.  You can read it here too  http://rawarrior.com/first-awareness-day-for-rheumatoid-arthritis-established-by-rheumatoid-patient-foundation/ .  I have always been a firm believer that things happen for a reason.  Opportunity is there...if you make the effort to see it.  RA is about to have a voice louder than I, personally, have known it to have, yet.  Rheumatoid Awareness Day, February 2, 2013!

Learn more about this exciting news here http://rheum4us.org/press-release-rheumatoid-arthritis-awareness-day/

As you know, I thought that this blog was going to be based on something entirely different.  Weight loss.  Well, Rheumatoid Arthritis has the staring roll and weight-loss, is a special guest star.  For now.  

Being diagnosed with RA has been life-altering in more ways than even I can imagine.  So, to ask others to grasp it, when I can't (yet), is somewhat unfair.  But we all need to.  When it comes down to it, the pain is something I deal with much better than the overall feeling of being misunderstood for something I am not.  Or ever have been.  Weak.

I am so excited to have access to so much information. Information, I feel, is important to make others aware of what RA means to many.  To bring to light the truths of the misconceptions.  To call BS on the ads that make it seem as though RA patients are living a "normal" life with RA when on the pharmaceuticals being advertised.  Sure, they work to help minimize damage and some do increase quality of daily living.  But they don't always work, for many.  

Here's the thing,  RA RD (Rheumatoid Disease) has many factors of any disease/condition.  It is life-altering.  It is pain. Fevers.  Flu-like symptoms.  It is deformation.  It is feeling hopeless (at times), sadness, tears, worry, exhaustion and so much more, including...invisible to most.  It's doctor appointments, blood work, scans, x-rays, pill boxes, side effects.  It breaks you down.  But, because RD is so misunderstood, none of that matters, to most.  Because we don't hear about what RD really is.  

For me, lately, RD is pain.  And tears.  Frustration.  Lies.  Lies. Lies.  Because, what I do when I am out, is LIE.  I feel like crap, but won't tell you.  Because [I feel] everyone is looking at me and wondering why I am not involved as much, doing as much, smiling as much.  And why wouldn't you? Because, even if I reminded/told you that I have RD and am having a rough time (flare), would you really know what that means for me?  Do you know that I walk over objects on the floor because I can't bend to pick them up...and that when my children see me bend over, or try, they say, "I am sorry you had to bend over Mommy."  Do you know that there is little that I can accomplish from start to finish without help?  Do you know that I am struggling with a new "normal" of disarray?  Not fair or easy when you are an organized soul who finds peace with structure and order.  I drink my coffee black sometimes, because I can't open the creamer/milk container.  Even if someone is here, I won't ask.  I save my requests for the bigger things looming in my mind.  And the pain.  Pain that makes you cry out in your sleep.  I don't even know how to expand on the pain topic.  Just know that I work through a great deal of it.  Right now, it's pretty bad.  I can't get my infusion because I have been sick and on roundS of antibiotics.  

RD is feeling left behind.  Our house was under siege by the flu.  Twice. Little, by little, they all (thankfully) recovered and are moving forward and resuming normal activities.  Me.  I am still stuck in 

 flu-like RD limbo.  RD is mourning your old life and having to pick yourself up and find a new normal...again and again.  Because, just as you think you've got it...FLARE!!  And you pick yourself up and start all over again.  It gets exhausting.  But I do it.  Every time.

Never assume.  Don't judge.  Learn.  Read.  Understand.  Be supportive.

I need to find out more.  I need to help spread the word.  I would love to be instrumental in bringing this awareness to many.  I need to connect with others like me.  To find solutions.  Break barriers.  To give and find strength and inspiration in the many that are struggling with all the same issues.  I want information and I want to inform.  I want awareness.

Yesterday, I promised my doctor that I would be patient. He tells me that this summer, I could see a difference.  We will see.  In the meantime. I intend to make a difference.

Rheumatoid Awareness Day is a big deal.  It is a voice.  A voice I really need to hear.

Thank you, Kelly Young http://rawarrior.com/ for all you, somehow, manage to do.  This is a big deal!

Grow

Dear Emily, Ethan & Alec,

I am told that I am very talented when it comes to expressing myself in words.  I sure hope so.  Because I want this to be something you someday come across and be able to read it and feel so very deeply each and every heartfelt expressed word.

I love you. To the moon and back.  Infinity.  With everything I am and have ever hoped to be. I hope you are never able to fully comprehend my love for each one of you.  Because there is something so magical and great about endless.  Infinity.  When I imagine the universe and the fact that it is...endless, I am in awe.  That is how I want you to feel about my love for you.  I love you...But wait! There's more...But wait!  There's more... Love! More than you can ever comprehend.

Like every parent, I take you for granted.  I don't always take the time to listen, look and talk to you as much as I would like. And every night I go to bed with regret.  Regret that another day has passed and I didn't _______.  But let's be real. There are three of you :0)   I am one mama.  It is, in part, because of these regrets that I have always been terrified of you growing up, older and someday, out.

These days and those behind us are what I live for.  You need me.  You love me unconditionally.  I am  your hero and for the most part can do no wrong.  I don't believe I have disappointed you (at least not greatly), yet. And if you have disappointed me, it's been a G-rated one that we overcame with a simple kiss and "I love you". You are tiny, sweet and full of the innocence God intended you to have.  Each day you learn something new and are genuinely delighted and/or inspired by it.  I can snuggle with you and each one of you still allow me to kiss and hug you in front of the bus every day.  In fact, you want me too.  You giggle like the beautiful children you are.  Thank you.  I love the sound of your laughter.  And so much more.  Your growing up...scares me.  And if I had one wish, it would be that we could all stay here, in this moment, forever.  At least, that was my wish.  Until yesterday.

Terrible things happen all around us all the time.  For the most part, most of us are blissfully unaware.  However, in the past month, the world was aware when 20 small children were taken, tragically, too soon and left holes in the hearts of many.  Yesterday, I heard of another hole left. I can't imagine.  I can't stop looking at you, Alec, and wonder(they were all about your age. Six.)...  I try to shake it off. I can't help but wonder what these parents and family must be feeling.  Gone.  Just like that.  And yet, the world around moves forward.  The minutes turn into hours, days, weeks, etc. For many, they are stuck in that one moment.  That moment where, just before everything was OK. And then it wasn't.  These parents will never get tomorrow with their babies.  They are blessed with the memories of the days lived out and have to be content with the time they had.  Tomorrow, for them, will be different from now on.  I bet they would give anything to live with the pain I have inflicted on myself.  The pain of watching you all grow.  The blessing.

My gift to you, in honor of all those little ones, is to watch you grow. And enjoy every single second.   Without wishing you could just stay this little forever.  Because some are not fortunate enough to have tomorrow and are forever 12, 10 and 6 in the hearts and minds of loved ones.  Because the pain of imagining you never going onto middle school, high school and so on as a result of some unknown tragedy is unimaginable.  And because I love you so much.

Nobody can ever predict what the future holds.  And while I have always loved you to the best of my ability, I do feel I am showing you a bit of "infinity" by getting over my fear of you someday not needing me, first.  Grow babies.  In twelve years, I have laughed, smiled and loved harder than I have in my entire (almost 40 years of) life.  You have allowed me to grow as a person more that I could have ever imagined and blessed me with gifts I struggle to believe I deserve.

Grow.  Show me what you've got.  Learn.  Live.  Love.  Be loved.  And know, that nothing has ever brought me more joy than watching you grow.  I have a feeling the best is yet to come.

I love you.  Infinity X Infinity.  Forever.

Have the bestest day, ever.

Love,

Mommy

266.4 Part 2

Wow.  266.4. Not only was that the title of my second blog post, but it was also my weight.  At the time.  Within a year, that number would rise to 278.  Thanks, in part, to steroids.  Talk about feeling like you are fighting a hopeless battle.  Actually, I recall just throwing my arms up, going to the store and buying the biggest pair of jeans I have ever bought in my life.  There could be a mental block here, but I think they were a 22W or a 24W.  Have I ever expressed my dislike for the "W" that follows these "WOMAN'S PLUS SIZE" sizes?  You know, like we really need to see a big fat "W" after the double digits.  I know, WIDE.  Perfect. Let me just tell you, the first time I can fit into anything under a size 16, I a going to leave on EVERY label; even the long sticker they put on one leg.  And then I will leave the house and parade my Non-W ass around town.  Yup.  In the words of my children, I sure as heck will!  In fact, I may swipe a couple stickers from other same-sized jeans so I can slap them all over.  One for each thigh, front AND back!  You betcha!

For a long time, I danced between 275 and 278.  Hoping with everything that I would NEVER see 280.  Exercise was out of the question.  First of all, I couldn't move.  Stiff achy joints combined with 278 make things difficult.  And honestly, I was, well, caught up in a catch 22 for a bit.  At that time, all I had control over was what I put in my mouth.  I knew and know that I am supposed to eat small, frequent snacks/meals (6 times per day).  First of all, I barely ate 2x per day.  I can hear the gasps of disbelief.  But it is true. Fat doesn't always mean over-eater.  I am also supposed to steer clear of carbs (I have PCOS).  And like every mother, I was busy.  And completely overwhelmed and fighting transitions we were encountering as I struggled, along with several doctors to figure out what on earth was happening to me.

The dust is starting to settle and I am beginning to find some sort of normal.  I am starting to settle to, I guess.  Not a depressing settle.  Maybe that is the wrong expression.  Especially for me.  I have never settled.  Could the right word, possibly, be...accept?  Adapt?  I don't know.  But life is different now and we are all rolling with it as best as we can.  What has settled over me/our home is a sense of calm. We are more in control of our time than ever before. And I find that we are terribly protective of it. It's kind of nice.

The meds I hate to take so much, have helped in more ways than one.  I have to eat with them, or I have a VERY angry belly.  So, I do.  I am half way to my 6x per day.  I saw a nutritionist and we made a plan.  In October.  It is now December.  It is a great plan.  However, I have yet to implement that great plan.  Considering what November was like for us in this house, I won't beat myself up over it.

But guess what?  That eating, just 3 times each day...did something.  Because, the other day, at the doctor;s office...I weighed in at 250!  How come there are no CAPS for 250?  Steroids and all.  I weigh less than that original 266.4 that inspired this blog.

I cannot wait to go to the docs one day, soon, step on that scale again and have them NOT have to move that weight block thingy past 200.  They are always kind and start it out at 150...and I always laugh and thank them for the vote of confidence, even though I am sure it is part of their training to do so ;0)

For one week, I am going to once again attempt to make a small change.  I am going to increase my water intake.  I know...I've said it before.  But it's one week.  I CAN DO THIS!  I just proved to myself that small changes can make for a BIG difference.  266.4.  250 :0)

Back to Basics

So I did it.  I made a decision to make life a bit simpler this Christmas.  I don't know what happened, but last night, I was sitting on the couch, not feeling quite up to snuff and had this wave of overwhelmed crash in to me.  Not over.  In. I looked around at the Christmas decorations and felt..nothing.  Not warm, not inspired...not in the mood at all.  Again.  As a former Miss Christmas...this was not a good sign.

Perhaps it wasn't the best time to make decisions like this, but this morning, I feel pretty good about it.

Bottom line, no matter how much I try to fake it, I still am not 100%.  I am fine to do a realistic amount of activity plus normal day to day stuff, but add on extras and the telltale signs that I am pushing start to appear.  Honestly, I am not looking for 100% and am fully aware that, for me, that may never happen again.  In terms of Old Rachel. New Rachel (NR) has an adjusted 100% (which, my husband tells me, can still kick a "healthy" person's ass!).  In fact, NR has yet to reach 100%.  I was close, but got knocked back a bit.  Even as I sit here today, I am far better off than I was just 8 months ago.  I am learning the limits.  The hardest part is knowing that there are some who don't understand, or I feel, judge me on those limits.

My Gram is 83 and healthy.  Physically. Not even a cane.  However, she has dementia.  Badly.  My mom recently asked me if I would rather grow old and be confined to a wheelchair or be, for the most part, blissfully (we assume) unaware, but have a healthy body.

Well?

It is terribly painful for me to sit with my Gram, my rock, my first experience with unconditional love, and watch her slowly slip away from us.  I often sit and watch her to see how and if she is engaging and wonder what is really going through her mind.  I know that she is aware, at times that she is, as she puts it, "pazzo"  (Italian, for "crazy").  I don't think she is.  But she certainly feels it.  How could she not.  I can only imagine the confusion from moment to moment.  All I can hope for is that wherever her mind takes her, it is a happy time and place for her.  Sometimes, I wish she could stay in whatever world that is, because it is hard to see the reality wash over her face each time she returns to today's moment.  And she says, "Oh Rach!  I am pazzo!"  And I tell her, "You sure are.  But I promise not to tell anyone.  Because they already know."  And then she laughs.  I love the sound of her laugh.

But, is that pain really only pain to those of us watching the Gram, Mom, Pauline we all knew slip away?  I know that every holiday meal, I think of her.  And how she would buzz around and seem to have it all put together...without a drop of sweat or an ounce of frustration or panic.  Every project I do, I think of her and who she used to be.  Yes, we would all love for Gram to be with us the way we each individually remember her.  But what would she want?  Is she even aware?  Is she happy?  Or is she plagued with many moments of being lost?  Does she remember those moments long?  I would hug every single moment like that away.  If only.

So. The wheelchair option. That one is not too hard for me to imagine.  For one, I have been there before.  It's not easy.  Before RA, I worried about being a burden on my husband in our later years.  I had three knee surgeries and was told I was looking at a replacement by the time I was 40.  Meaning that when I was really old, I would really struggle to get around.  The thought of someones life being altered and burdened because of me is a solid fear I have.  I want to make other's lives easy.  I want to help where I can.  I don't want to be a burden.  I hate that there are things I can't do on my own.  And believe me, I am a fairly determined person.  I could always get it done.  And as much as on my own as I could.  Now, the steps required to vacuum a room are frustrating to me.  Fixing things are more difficult because I have to have someone there to run and get the materials and tools needed to do the job.  I HATE that.  And though I am thankful for each day that I am allowed to open my eyes and live that day, there is no telling how I will be able to move through that day. These days, I have adjusted to this, unknown.  In the past, notsomuch!

There is a lot of pride to be swallowed when you have any kind of illness, disease, etc.  I know that I am not alone in this. For some, it may be easier than others.  Not for me.  The other day , I saw something that someone had posted.  It went something like, "Telling me that I shouldn't be [unhappy, sad, etc] because someone else has it worse is like telling someone they shouldn't be happy because someone else is happier."  Wow.  My daily mantra for years has been that someone, somewhere has it worse.  Be thankful.  And I truly believe that.  What I understood when I read that was that I haven't been completely fair to myself.  Although I don't condone wallowing in self-pity, I think it is unfair to expect anyone to just brush over something that has been life altering in so many ways like it never happened.  I have been doing this to myself for years now.  I hide when I am feeling bad.  I don't always tell when I have been to the ER. When breathing becomes more of a struggle, I struggle with myself and wonder at what point do I call?  Then I worry that I may be bothering someone if I do.(The whole time not seeing that there is a reason and history that proves I truly am not bothering anyone) I move through the motions, even when they are agonizing. Sometimes pushing too hard and paying for it later. I sometimes cry at night, because I am so disgusted with what has happened.  And then I get mad at myself for crying.  I get mad at myself a lot.

 Frustration is a word that is probably overused by me.  But I don't know a better one.  There is frustration in so many areas.  With how I feel. What I want to do and can't.  What I want to say.  But can't.  Or won't.  With what others say.  Or don't. With writing.  Or typing.  With the lack of understanding.  And lack of ability to educate.  Ignorance. Expectations.   Frustration with trying to keep up.  With myself and my head.  Pesky head.

Overwhelmed is another overused.  I am constantly overwhelmed.  In both good and bad ways.  I am often overwhelmed with frustrations (see above).  And then I am overwhelmed with compassion, love and understanding.  Most often from those who have always been there to give it and some who just
show up out of nowhere, offering so much of it.  Crazy enough, I squirm with discomfort when I am offered such gifts.  I struggle to think that I am at all deserving.

I hate the "would you rather" questions.  Truth is, I don't know.  I can only imagine that Gram would love to be with us the way we wish she were.  And if it meant being in a wheelchair, she may say, "Sign me up, Ra Ra!".  Who knows?  I sure as heck don't.  What I do know is that everything happens for a reason.  There is a reason, after nor really being on facebook for some time, I logged on that day to see that quote.  This is hard, for me.  I have had countless professionals say things to me lately.  Small comments, that I brushed off.  Things like, "[RA] is a tough disease".  She was the cardiologist's nurse who put it together after taking down the list of drugs I was on.  It wasn't just what she said, it was how she said it and the way she paused what she was doing to make eye contact with me.  I could look anywhere but at her.  Because I would cry.  I wanted to cry and admit to her, and myself that it was.  But I didn't.  I have heard that I am way too hard on myself and that it is OK to accept or ask for help. Even in the rheumatologist's office.  I JUST learned that when they are squeezing my joints, I am supposed to be telling her that it hurts.  In the freaking rheumatologists office!! Last visit she realized because I couldn't talk through the pain.  I lost all concentration.  Usually, I brace myself and hold my breath and tell her "it's tender".  I don't have to be tough there, but I still try.  Because, even there, I feel like I am weak if I admit to pain.  Even though she can feel it and see it.  She wants me to tell her and I can't.

Another truth.  I am angry. And terribly disappointed.  I have been let down.  Despite everything that has or has not been going on in my little corner of the world, I have been where I needed to be. To the best of my ability and sometimes beyond that.  What I am angry about is the possibility that because I can no longer offer to the extent I used to, I am not as valuable to some.  Or the idea that I may be thought of as weak and not handling this whole chapter in my life well.  And I know the answer to that is then they should be of no concern to me then.  I know this, but it still hurts.  Because I never want to believe the worst.  In anyone.  I may have to.  Just another test in strength, from life, I am sure.  A test I will pass with flying colors. Already have.  Because I have always remained true to who I am.  And will always try my very best to keep on doing so.

So.  Would I trade all this to be blissfully unaware?  Again.  I cannot say.  I want to know my family.  I want to be with my family.  If that means, someday, possibly from a wheelchair.  Well.  So be it.  If it means that I will be there, but...maybe just not as all my loved ones wish me to be...so be that too.  For now, I have the blessings to be there where I am truly needed.  In both ways.  With my family.  Creating memories so grand it will never matter whether it is my mind or body that fail me.  Gram dances to polkas around the room and whips up the best meals,  in my mind...and will forever.  Just as my Granddad (who has been passed for years) came home the other day and told Gram he wanted to go to the museum.  In her mind.

No cards. No cookies.  No parties.  No pressure.  Back to the basics.  Back to what Christmas is all about.  Presents!  No.  Just kidding.  :0)

For Tracie...

I have always been very vocal about the amazing group of friends that I have had for the best years of my life.  They had no idea, but came into my life at a very crucial time and I am entirely grateful for them all.  One, in particular, has been my rock, my go-to girl and most importantly, my best girl-friend.  I have always been impressed with the person she continues to grow to be and quite honestly, she continues to amaze me...even when I know exactly what to expect from her.

Recently, a mutual friend of ours found out she needed a kidney transplant.  Tracie,without hesitation stepped up (as well as many wonderful others) and began the process to see if she was a possible match.  She is.

Trace, this is for you.  Even though I said it to you earlier today, I decided that you deserve to hear it again.  And because I want you to read and process what so many are thinking...I am speaking for the many who wish we could do what you are about to do.

You are a remarkable woman.  I can't help but think that your Mom is just beaming with pride and absolute approval.  This gift you are giving is beyond priceless...and has infinite rewards.  YOU are saving a life.  And even if something should happen and this not go as we all hope; it doesn't take away from the selfless gift you are offering to a mother, wife , daughter, sister, granddaughter and friend.  And to think how this will touch many in ways you never thought possible.  You are also giving the gift of hope. Hope that a husband and wife can continue to enjoy and watch their children grow, together.  Imagine what this act will do for the children who will grow to know that someone, you, went to great lengths to help their mother.  Think about how this will help to shape who they are to become.  And, of course, a husband who will most likely struggle to find the words he wants to properly thank you for all that you are offering.

I know that this makes you uncomfortable and that your wish is to make this anything but about you.  Too bad.  You deserve every word, well wish and compliment.  So much more is possible because you  made it so.  So read this, on your own and give yourself permission to accept all that we are saying to you.  You are so worth it.  Once again, you are giving someone a chance at a beautiful future, just as you did with each child that came into your heart and home. Roman.

Your  children will also take much from all of this.  You are a hero.  SuperMom.  Super Amazing.

Tracie, I am beyond words to express how boundlessly proud I am of you.  Thank you for always being an amazing friend. I love you, my little friend.  Godspeed.

Family Time

There is nothing that brings me more joy, than being a mommy.  This long weekend was almost perfect.  I only regret not encouraging the kids to call a friend more than I did.  I reminded them, but we were so caught up in things we normally don't get to do, that nothing else seemed to matter.  We crafted at our own pace while Christmas movies played in the background to help get us into the spirit. The kids went into the woods with their father to sit in a tree stand and check out the local turkey and deer.  The boys went outside and played in the first snow of the season while Emily and I planned out what gifts she would make for Christmas.  Everything...was done at our own pace.  It was wonderful.

Tonight, we celebrated our last night of this "vacation" with watching our new family fav, Once Upon a Time.  Alec was snuggled up with me.  I couldn't help but smile, close my eyes and soak in every little bit of my six year old baby.And soon he was asleep in my arms.  I made a silent wish.  "Please, let us stay like this forever."  The thought of these days being over, it overwhelming and sad, for me.

I have no idea where this all comes from.  I know that I have many regrets of not slowing down and enjoying my children as much as I feel I should have.  I definitely feel guilty for not being able to all the things I wanted to with them do because I wasn't feeling well these past few years.  And honestly, it's the days that I am feeling really good, that I get most sad about all I feel I missed.  All I know is that I can't get enough if my children.  Of course, they frustrate me and I do get angry with them, but never for long.  I am always so concerned about what is going on in their brilliant little minds and worry about their happiness.  I am sure some therapist would have a field day with me!

I don't feel that we really ever "grow in" to the person we are.  To me, that sounds like settling and ceasing to learn. I feel that I have evolved throughout the years and adapted as needed.  Life is an orchard of choices.  I have certainly, made some very poor choices.  That includes how I have handled myself...and my children.  

Nothing can prepare you for the day you struggle to properly restrain your newborn into that car seat for the very first time...and take him/her home.  From that moment on, the pressure is on!  The best I can describe it, from my point of view, is like juggling.  WHO in their right mind decided it was OK to send these children home with ME?  

When I think of all the transitions and evolving I have been through in the past 12 years while trying to pretend I have this parenting thing down (hahahahaha!), I wonder how it is even possible that my little angels have turn out to be such wonderful little people.  And as they get older, it gets harder. The position of "Head Role Model" plays an even greater role in their lives.  I find that I hold myself even more accountable for things because I feel they are paying attention now more than ever.  I sometimes wonder if these children were placed with me to keep me on my toes.  So that when I felt weary and disappointed with life, I would have to hold my head high, look straight forward and push on...BECAUSE I was under great observation.  There are ALWAYS six beautiful blue eyes watching me.  And should I fail to hold myself accountable, they surely will.  I know who is watching me.  God,  all my loved ones who have passed and my children.  I believe my obligation is to my children, first.  Because, if I do right by them, then I have pleased God 3X over!  Kind of like extreme couponing. :0)

I don't know.  I think I am just overwhelmed with all the emotion that comes with being a parent.  The unconditional love and acceptance is terribly hard for me to...believe I deserve.  At all. I am humbled by it all.  By all three of them.  I am so thankful.

And seriously, who doesn't get all warm and fuzzy when an adorable child falls asleep on them after a near perfect family weekend?

This year, I am thankful for my Rheumatoid Arthritis.  Although I struggle with time lost before, I understand that RA has made me appreciate and take advantage of the time I have NOW.  

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving as well~

A Perfect Gift

Having our children strive to be productive, generous and aware members of society has always been something we, as their parents, strive for.  I believe very strongly that this is something we lead by example as well as, work side-by-side with them to achieve.  I used to worry about how we would make this happen, and then I realized they have been doing it along with us all this time.  Tonight was a night I was reminded that we have been doing alright.  And it made me want to do more with them.

For an assignment for Scouts, Ethan was to nominate someone he thought was worthy of a citizenship award.  As I read my 10 year old's reasons for nominating this special person I realized that he really gets it.  Now, his first choice was an Uncle who wasn't eligible because he lived out of state. Ethan choose him because he "serves his community everyday and is a good police officer and gets all the bad guys when they are doing bad things."  We are so fortunate to be surrounded with so many that give of themselves every day to benefit others.  These are people in the community who put other's needs before their own, often putting themselves in danger.  These are the people my children look up to, and I hope, strive to be like.

Ethan, needs these people in his life.  We all do.  We all need to be reminded that giving of ourselves has bountiful rewards.  But my impulsive son truly needs these constant reminders of towing the line, being responsible and making the right choice.  He needs these people to help mold him into the amazing man he will surely someday be.  My little man is the most compassionate  child I have ever know in all my life.  He is going to make a great volunteer.  Along with my other two.  While Emily may not be comfortable with people, she has an amazing gift with animals.  She will bring comfort and compassion to God's furry gifts to us.  And my little Alec, no matter what he chooses, he will bring comfort with his smile.  Yes, all my children will bring something to society's table.

Volunteer organizations are suffering greatly.  Membership is down and those who have been in it for so long, are burned out.  No matter what the organization you are in there are always going to be the people who give all they can.  And unfortunately, there are those in it for all the wrong reasons.  It is entirely understandable why memberships are suffering.  Just look at our society.  Look at our lives.  We are constantly on the run.  Work, school,kids, house, meals, homework, social obligations, chores, upkeep....it is INSANE! We have 3 children with a combined average of 170 minutes of homework.  If they all need help...ugh!  This doesn't include the minutes all are supposed to read each night.  Violin, piano, scouts.  Practice 20, read 30, study.  I feel terrible, but last week when I read the note that came home from religion saying that they wanted the kids 10 extra minutes several times this season for a special mass...I was irritated.  Not just at our parish, just at (what seems like)everyone asking for 10 minutes here and there and wondering where and how!  We strictly limit our kids to one activity each for their own sanity, as well as, ours.  As it is, Ethan struggles and will occasionally melt down because he feels overwhelmed.  He is 10.

Despite all this, I hope we are able to instill in the kids that giving something of yourself is truly an obligation.  When I think about the reasons I love to camp, there is one that stands out from all the other reasons.  The people you meet.  They are fun loving people always looking and happy to lend a hand.  Nobody is afraid to ask and everyone is falling over themselves to offer.  This is the way the world is meant to run. We are all in this together.  Somehow, a false and terribly wrong sense of entitlement has come over...too many.  I don't want to blame a generation.  I'd rather enlighten and somehow ignite a sense of duty.

Our children will and should grow up knowing that there are basic expectations of them.  This is a gift to them. I hope that they live lives where, at the very least, their basic needs are met...through their very own hard work driven by their sense of responsibility to themselves, their families and society.  And should anything ever happen and they need to rely on assistance to get them through it, I want them to be able to take it without shame and a good amount of pride.  Because, I believe, that sense of pride is what will keep the "entitlement" bug away.

I will also expect that our children grow up knowing that they have an obligation to society.  To contribute.  To help.  To engage.  Somehow.  Even if only for a moment.  To give freely and without expectation is one of the greatest joys.  Something that seems to be lost on many...but not all.  As several little Cub Scouts brought to light today.