I'm Nice

I have a confession to make. I'm nice. No, I mean really, really nice. Not a lot of people know this. I'm much nicer than I let people know and I'm much nicer than I allow even myself to believe. In fact, I would classify myself as being "in the closet" in regards to my niceness. Oftentimes, I have asked my husband to take credit for some good deed I have done for our friends because I simply do not like the attention. I like to give off this tough-as-nails exterior. And I am tough, but dang it, I'm nice, too.

Well, unfortunately today I was schooled in the hard reality that not everyone is as nice. Not half as nice. At this point, I would settle for neutral. But there are mean, callous, manipulative savages out there, often dressed as lambs. I knew this. But it cuts so much deeper when you go out of your way to sacrifice something of great value to yourself solely for the benefit of another, only to have that same, very altruistic behavior used to stab you in the back and literally create a severe loss for you and your family.

I knew better than to be so nice in the situation at hand. I should have thought of myself and my needs. But it still absolutely floored me when my niceness was used against me and came back to bite me in the butt.

I was so furious today at this discovery that I literally could have spit nails. I won't go into details or name names, but it was quite a wake-up call. It made me want to retreat within and only look out for me and mine. Screw everyone else. But then I remember my very last blog entry, about Elena, her family, and the way their story affected me, and I just can't. As much as I want to fully unleash my Scorpio-Italian fury (and believe me, it ain't pretty), I can't. I'm a mom. I'm a professional. I'm nice.

But I do think I'll go punch something about now.

Thank You, Elena

Three days ago, while browsing on channelcincinnati.com, I came upon http://www.desserich.org/, which journalizes the story of a beautiful little girl named Elena Rosemary Desserich, who was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer. Elena passed away on Saturday, August 11th, 2007, just nine months after being diagnosed. She was only six years old.

I have read every word of the journal (which is written by her parents), beginning to end, and viewed every picture of Elena’s journey. I feel like I cried a tear for every single word written in that journal. Bawled is actually more like it. My emotions caught me by surprise because I’m not usually a crier.

I never met this little girl or her family, but I was heartbroken to see the life of this bright-eyed, loving little girl, who was not much older than my own elder daughter (and seems to be very similar to her in temperament and style), so devastated by this disease and ultimately cut way too short. It shook me to the core. I shared the site with my husband, and he, too, could not tear himself from this family’s story or hold back his own tears.

When I first began to read their story, I was overwhelmed with feelings of sadness, disbelief, and sympathy. Then my emotions quickly turned to anger. I was angry that something so devastating could strike a child, without rhyme or reason. A beautiful, loving, innocent child. She was robbed of her future, of life’s full journey, before it had even began. Her parents, her little sister, and all those close to her, they were just robbed. Robbed of the gift of Elena. She wasn’t even my daughter and I just felt so angry about that. Why?

Because it’s so damn unfair.

But another reason might be a bit selfish: the Desserich family remind me so much of my own. They have two daughters, Elena and her little sister Grace. And in appearance, age, and interests, the girls remind me so much of my daughters. And of course it reminds me that this could just as easily happen to me, my family, anyone. Cancer does not discriminate. And I think if I were in that situation, being the control freak that I am, I would be so angry because I would feel like there was nothing I could do about it.

But that’s where I would be wrong. The Desserich family is doing something about it. They are keeping Elena alive in so many ways every single day, including sharing their journal and story with people like me. They are bringing awareness about pediatric brain cancer through The Cure Starts Now charity, helping other families fight the fight against this devastating disease.

I have not quite been the same since discovering the Desserichs, and I want to thank them for that. Because of Elena I no longer rush through bedtime stories at night. I hug my girls a little longer, listen to them more intently, play with them with my full attention. I try to cherish every second. Elena has reminded me that the physical life is precious, uncertain, and fleeting. A gift. A beautiful gift that Elena, even at her tender age, never took for granted.

But the Desserichs have also reminded me that every life should be cherished. Not just those in my own personal world. The Desserichs didn’t stop caring after Elena left this life on August 11th. I’ll be participating in the first annual The Cure Starts Now Walk-a-thon on September 30th. For more information, visit http://www.thecurestartsnow.org/

Get Off Your Bum!

This past week has been intolerably hot. Over 100 degrees hot. It was so hot that I, who am someone who thinks it's a sin to waste a minute of summer weekend hours indoors, spent nearly every second of this past weekend inside our house. It was actually quite nice, taking it easy, instead of trying to fill up every second with some kind of memorable outdoor activity.

Our girls seemed almost overjoyed to have an opportunity to stay in and do nothing special (perhaps because Mommy normally overplans our summer weekends). For once, they kept themselves very entertained, without our help, by coloring, drawing, playing dolls.

My husband and I quickly took note that we had some free "us" time, so we decided to watch a movie. One movie turned into two and before we knew it, we were engaged in a movie marathon on TNT: Wyatt Earp (not my choice), The Patriot, and The Gladiator (although seeing Russell Crowe all buffed and beautiful in The Gladiator did nothing to cool me down). It was extremely rare for my husband and I to be allowed that amount of time to sit calmly and watch movie after movie together without protest from our girls, so we felt we really had to take advantage of such an opportunity.

My five-year-old, who has become quite skilled in Internet Gaming in a nickjr.com-kind-of-way, spent a bit of this time playing Dora's Magical Castle Adventure online. She kept asking my husband every few minutes to come in to the study and tell her if she won (since she can't read yet). Of course these interruptions would come at the most pivotal moments of our movies, so he was not very responsive to her requests.

After several minutes of unanswered "come-see's," she asked us where our digital camera was. Digital photography is yet another hobby my technically-inclined soon-to-be-kindergartner has recently taken up, so we figured she had just decided to stop playing her game and start snapping pictures instead. Within minutes, she returned to the family room, handed my husband the digital camera, and asked, "Did I win?!"

That's right. My little-smarty pants had taken a picture of the screen of the computer monitor that showed the results of her game so that she could bring it in to show us since we wouldn't get off of our lazy butts! Is that simply ingenious or what?? We were astounded, but also rather embarrassed, that my daughter had gone to such creative measures to get not only our attention but also the answer she needed. What a resourceful little girl we have.

In our defense, couch-potato-ness really is a rarity in our home (at least in the summer)! But my daughter's display did motivate us to turn off the TV and get off the couch.