Camping at the Kinneret

I am taking my kids camping.

Call me crazy, but I really want to do it.

What is even more amazing is that they all want to go camping with me!

They want to spend family time together.  They do not care about going on hikes or what we do, as long as we do it together.

Did I mention that all three of my kids are teenagers, in the midst of adolescence?!?!

I am so excited about spending time them!

I am a little nervous about doing it all on my own (three adoloescent teenagers, and all that...), but there really is no other option.

Moshe is not coming.  He hates camping.  He will be much happier at home and at work, where he has air conditioning.  He is happy for us to go, but he has absolutely no desire to join us.

When we first had kids, I used to drag Moshe camping with us. Eventually, since he hated camping so much, we just stopped going altogether.  Two years ago, we found the Pesach/Jugglers' Convention solution, whereby the kids and I go camping at Sachneh, and Moshe sleeps a 10 minute drive away, at our friends who, of course, have air conditioning.  The Sachneh solution seems to work, but it is not enough.

The kids and I still want to camp during summer vacation.  For various reasons, a family camping trip during the last few summers just was not possible.  Yet, despite the recent progression of my cancer and our youngest daughter's Bat Mitzvah, I realized we could, at least in theory, go camping this summer.

Moshe and I discussed it.  We decided that Moshe would hold down the fort while I take the kids off into the wild blue yonder.

This summer has been particularly challenging for me.  As our camping dates approached, I wondered if my pain would be controlled enough for me to swing this adventure.  I have been praying, every night, that I will be able to do it.  Meanwhile, I am pushing forward, full steam ahead.

I scheduled this trip with the kids over a month ago.  Good thing we planned in advance, because these were the ONLY days that all three kids would be free at the same time all summer!

We originally planned to drive up north on Tuesday morning, and camp for 3 or 4 days, until Thursday or Friday.  We decided to be spontaneous and decide on the spot whether or not to stay the extra day.

Wrong!   Our time is not as free as we thought.  My youngest daughter just informed me that she has a Bat Mitzvah on Thursday night.  So there is no longer a third night/fourth day option.  We will return to Jerusalem on Thursday, so my daughter can attend her friend's Bat Mitzvah.

Meanwhile, we still need to decide where we are camping.

My kids are pretty set on the idea of camping at the Kinneret. 

Many friends encouraged me to travel further north, where it might be cooler.  I do not really want to drive that far on my own.  Even more so, I am determined to camp on the Kinneret because that is where my kids want to go.

Now we just have to decide WHERE on the Kinneret to camp.

Any suggestions?



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Saving the Day

I have been feeling so week and tired lately.  No one knows why.

Everyone promised I would feel rejuvinated after receiving two portions of blood.

I do not.

I am still weak and tired.

I could not move on Monday morning.  God made a miracle and gave me enough energy so that I could drag myself to the pool and teach on Monday afternoon.

I would have crashed on Monday night, but Monday was my anniversary, so I went with Moshe, as we do every year, to sit in the garden where we were married.  It might not seem exciting, but the experience is quite special to us.

Tuesday morning, I would have loved to sleep in, but I really wanted to attend my art class.  I actually dragged myself up and out of the house in time to arrive on time.

I just drove down the hill when my phone rang.  My eldest daughter, who is a madricha (counselor/advisor) for B'nei Akiva (youth group) had hosted a sleepover for her chanichot (kids) the night before and had woken up early to take them all swimming in the pool in Tekoa (a neighboring town).

"Ima," she began, in a plaintive voice, "the bus did not stop for us and the next bus is in three hours."

I had already entered the traffic circle at the bottom of the hill.  I quickly glanced to my right.  There stood my daughter, with her chanichot sitting beside her.

My art class began in ten minutes;  I had just enough time to drive there.  But my daughter had put in so much time and energy to create a fun program for her chanichot; she had no other way to get to the pool.

What could I do?

I drove around the circle and swung by to pick up my daughter and the girls.  "Your chariot," I called to her, with a smile.

My daughter showered me with thanks.

"You owe me, big time!" I informed her, explaining, in detail, what I gave up to save her.

"I will try to be extra good for a month!" she pronounced.

"A month does not cover it," I countered.

"Forever?" she questioned sweetly.

"That's more like it," I responded, "From now on, whenever you step out of line, I am just going to say one word..." 

After a dramatic pause, I glanced quickly into her eyes, smiled and said... "Tekoa."

My daughter laughed good naturedly as she realized we just added a new code word to our private lexicon.

I joined in her laughter.

Someone once told me that having a private family language is the litmus test for family cohesion. I am not convinced.   Still, I love that our family has our own meanings for various words and phrases! (not to mention new words that our kids created!)

I plan to utilize this word to its full capacity!  (and she knows it!)



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Upping the Ante -- Moving On To Stronger Pain Meds (Medical Update)

Today, I began treatment with Herceptin again.  Since I have not received Herceptin in a long time, I needed to receive a "loading" dose.  Beforehand, I agreed to take hydrocortisone, to reduce the chances of an adverse reaction.  I did not really want to receive more steroids, but I also did not want to have to stop treatment in the middle.  Thankfully, I did not have an adverse reaction this time.

Also today, thanks to Moshe's gentle persistance, I chose to switch my method of pain management.  I got a patch which releases pain medication on a steady basis, over the course of three days. I am starting with the lowest dose patch, because I do not want to be all woozy.  I had to upgrade to something a bit stronger, becaue my previous regimen no longer kept the pain at bay.  I am hoping that this low dose is enough to do the trick.  One of the nurses warned me that I might experience some wooziness initially, but encouraged me to keep the patch on for several days, to give my body time to adjust and get over the wooziness.

So far, I am not feeling particularly woozy.  I still have some mild pain, but it really is mild.  We will see how I am feeling tomorrow.

My mom kept me company at the hospital today, which was really nice.  We ended up being at the hospital for a really long time (I arrived at 9:00 am and we did not get out until 4:30 pm). 

I would have liked to go home and rest, but God had other plans for me.  My son, who got himself a job working as a junior counselor this summer, had a field trip with his camp today.  He called me as soon as he learned that they would not be getting back in time for him to catch the bus to Tekoa for his horseback riding group.  I offered to take him by car today as well (I drove him and one of his friends yesterday, for their first lesson, so I could see the stables, meet the owner, and provide the boys with some sort of orientation so they would be able to come and go on their own).

Once I was driving in anyway, I decided to hang out in Tekoa with my friend, KAA, and just drive the boys home after their horseback riding session. I did not mind the wait, but I needed ice cream.  KAA and I went to the Makolet and I bought myself a tub of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream. Despite the hot weather (and the steroids coursing through my system), I exhibited exemplary self control and did not eat the entire tub of ice cream.  I used a trick my father taught me and wrapped the left over ice cream in multiple layers of plastic bags.  I used a LOT of plastic bags and the ice cream was still frozen when I got home, almost an hour later (Thanks Dad!).

Tonight, Moshe, my mom, and I, watched several episodes of The Big Bang Theory. (Thanks, LWG!)  If you are a geeky type, or even just married to one, you have to watch this!  You will laugh!!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

What A Long Strange Day It's Been....

I cannot remember how I started my day.... 

Oh yeah, a friend came over to do some "shopping" (I'll post more about that later....).  She left with a suitcase full of clothes for her younger boys.  YAY!!

My son got a late start (no great surprise there -- he was exhausted from yesterday's tiyul).  I got a little annoyed about how late he actually got up, but I managed to let my frustration go. I even made him lunch, so he left feeling good that his mother "took care of him."  It is such a funny stage -- he wants to be independent, but he also wants to be pampered.  Finding the right balance is.... challenging!

An hour later, another friend came over to treat me to shiatsu.*  What a pleasure!  I have been feeing overwhelmed and stressed for several days.  I felt so relaxed when she finished treating me!

Then I met with my "narrative therapist."  We have met several times already and I am still not sure exactly what "narrative therapy" is, but I find the sessions with her insightful.  (And she comes to my home, so it could not be easier!)  She asks probing questions that make me think.  My purpose in meeting with her, is to use our meetings to reach my concrete goal of getting my house in order (primarily decluttering, but also organizing....).  Today we mainly "caught up," after not meeting for several weeks.  She also helped me to refocus on my ultimate goal.

In the middle of our session, I got hungry.  That has not happened for the longest time!!

I actually ate some real food and enjoyed it.  I had a small piece of eggplant parmesan, a small slice of carrot cake, and a tall glass of milk.  I was still hungry afterwards, so I ate some honey roasted peanuts.  Not bad for someone who has not had an appetite for 10 months! 

A few hours later, I ate an early dinner with my two younger kids.  I had a bowl of soup and corn on the cob, with butter and salt.  What a simple pleasure to sit and eat with my kids!

I really enjoyed spending the time together.

Unfortunately, I am now paying the piper....  My stomach is grumbling and acting up again.

Perhaps I should have eaten toast with jam, but that is so boring!!   I wanted yummy food.

It was a very surrealistic day, slow, kind of wierd feelings. 

My daughter had her Kfitz Kfotz gymnastics presentation this evening.  This year, they did a local presentation, which I really appreciated.  It was much easier for me to attend a shorter program that was close to home.

When we arrived home, my son was already in bed, and on his way to never-never-land.  Before I left, we discussed what time he should eat supper and go to bed, given how tired he was this morning.  I am pleased that he demonstrated responsibility and made sure to go to bed on time.  I am proud of him.

My daughter also had a few thoughts to share about her day.  She raised several issues that were disturbing her, primarily about certain dynamics at her school.  I tried to guide her a bit, but mostly I just listened.  I am glad she feels she can talk to me.

Today is my eldest's birthday.  She was not home all day.  I missed her.  My youngest was especially disappointed that her sister would not be around to celebrate her birthday.  My youngest is always very diligent about making something nice for our birthdays.  She clearly felt disappointed that her sister would not be receiving her gifts on her actual birthday. My youngest and I sang Happy Birthday to my eldest over the phone. We will celebrate more with her over Shabbat.

My kids are all growing up so fast....



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

--------------------------------------------------------
* In addition to practicing Shiatsu professionally, Idit volunteers her services to me and to the Yuri Stern Foundation.

Idit has a wonderful, warm, and relaxing treatment room in her home.
  
For regular treatments or to treat yourself to something special:
Idit Amir
077-757-8949
052-660-8442
Idit Amir amir.idit@gmail.com

The Day/Night Before

My stomach is still upset.  My ability to cope well diminishes significantly when I am not feeling well.

I was so tired this morning.  Even so, when my son asked me to get up and help him make sandwiches, I did it... with a smile!

I hope, some day, he appreciates just how much I love him.

It took me a while, but I managed to fall back asleep after he left for school.

I woke up late in the morning, still terribly tired.  I considered blowing off my art class, but knew I would be sorry to miss it again (I missed class last week, when class had been moved to the day after Shavuot, and I just could not get out of bed that morning). Somehow, this morning, I managed to drag myself to the second half of the class.  It was hard for me to participate, because of how uncomfortable I was, but I managed to do some work on my project.  Everyone in the art class, sponsored by Tishkofet-Ma'agan, had/has cancer, so I did not feel the need to minimize how I was feeling or why. I received a lot of support and understanding, which I guess I needed.  Overall, I felt glad I made the effort to get there, even if I only made it for half the class.

I was supposed to have a massage afterwards.  I really wanted/needed it.  Instead, the center switched me over to someone who does Reiki.  Probably, on some other day, the switch would have been fine.  But, today, it just made me upset.  My reaction made me realize just how uptight and anxious I am about tomorrow's procedure.

I went straight home and crawled into bed.

I slept, on and off.  People kept waking me up.  Friends called, kids needed me, you know, the usual.... No one expected me to be asleep at 4:00 in the afternoon, or 6:00 in the evening!

I finally fell into a deep asleep around 8:00 pm.  I fully intended on sleeping 'till morning.

Did I mention I have to be at the hospital at 7:00 AM!!!  (that is so cruel!!!)

Then, Moshe woke me at 11:00 pm!  The pre-op instructions said I should shower and shampoo my hair (what hair??) the night before.  I did not read the instructions, but Moshe did... God bless him.

I so did not want to wake up.  But once I was awake, I could not ignore my upset stomach.  So, I got up, showered, and shampood the few hairs I have, wondering what hair will be left after this next round of radiation......

I really should thank Moshe.  Just as I finished dressing, my daughter and her friend came home after opening night, full of excitement and eager to share.  I also got to hear from my daughter about her math bagrut (exam).  I spent about half an hour with my daughter and her friend, and I would not have traded that time for anything in the world!

I would write more, but it's late, and I have to get up in the morning.....



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Just Answer the Question

Kids are very literal.  At least, mine are.

When my kids ask questions, I often answer what I interpret as their question, rather than their actual question.  Oftentimes, it turns out, they just want an answer to their question, the one they actually asked, not the one from my imagination.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to hear the question they are asking, because my mind automatically jumps three steps ahead.  I have to train myself to repeat the questions in my head, to make sure I am really hearing what the kids are asking.  By answering their questions literally, I avoid making assumptions about what they might "really be asking." 

When my kids ask me cancer questions, I have to listen even more carefully, to make sure I really do answer their questions.  I worry that there are other, more difficult, issues that concern my kids.  So far, I seem to be the only one delving that deep.

My kids are not usually concerned with my existential questions; they just want to know if anything is going on that will mess up their plans for the coming week.




Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Parenting Crisis

I cannot write about it. 

It has nothing to do with cancer and everything to do with being a parent.

Everyone assures me that, usually, over time, these things pass.

Time.

It just takes time.

What if I am not here by that time?

Will it still work out?

It is all about being a parent. 

But I am a parent with cancer.

What if I don't have enough time to make it to "the other side" of being a parent?



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

The Bargain

Posted with the approval of my eldest daughter (the protagonist in this anecdote)
(the title was her idea!)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lately, my angel of a daughter has been having not-so-angelic fits.

I called her in, to talk with her about her recent behavior. She expressed her frustration as well.

She recognizes that sometimes our conflicts are a result of her fits. She also thinks that sometimes our conflicts are a result of my fits.

I acknowleged that she might be right.

She suggested : "I'll make with you a deal:  You do everything I want, and I won't do fits."

We both had a good, healthy laugh at that!

Then, I suggested the opposite: that my daughter do everything I want, and I won't do fits.

She liked the first option better.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

It Happened Again

(read this post first)

Same kid, different circumstances.... but not all that different.....

Both Moshe and our child woke up extra early, so the child could get to school for an excursion with some kids and a counselor/teacher from the child's school. 

Moshe and the child were already in the car when the child was given an instruction that the child did not want to follow.  The child expressed dismay in an unacceptable manner.  Moshe got out of the car and refused to take the child to school.  The child felt crushed and angry.

I tried to intervene and the child, again, behaved with disrespect. 

Thanks to a very insightful comment from DK, following my previous post on this topic, I understood that the child was too upset to learn from the experience. 

So, I focussed on understanding and reflecting my child's feelings. 

When the child was calm enough, I received a sincere apology, along with a desperate request to take the child to school, which I did.  On the way, I was able to explain the child's mistakes, and guide the child both in accepting responsibility and  in beginning to think what the child can do differently.

One step back, two steps forward.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Teach Your Children Well

Sometimes, a parent needs to let their children fail, in order for their children to grow.

For a long time, I have not been able to do this.  I continue to "save the day."  I constantly solve problems that my children should be solving for themselves.

This morning, one of my children woke me at 7:15 am for help.  The child had a Bar Mitzvah at the Jerusalem Bird Observatory, and did not know how to get there.  The child wanted to arrive early, for the first part of the event: observing the staff free birds.  The child planned on taking a bus, but did not know which buses to take or, it turns out, even where the place was.

The child could have gotten this information in advance.

I would have been happy to help the child find a ride, or figure out which buses to take, or draw a map.  Had the child planned in advance, the child could easily have gotten to the Bar Mitzvah (without waking me up in the morning).  Instead, the child got up early, and discovered that getting there by bus would not be simple, or quick.

When the child woke me up, I did not want to wake up, but I did. I made several suggestions to the child, who then proceeded to argue with me about "what ifs."  When the child finally followed through with my suggestions, over an hour later, it was too late.

I still tried to help the child, and, at one point, was ready to drop everything and actually take the child. 

I wondered if I was doing the right thing.  Maybe I should let this child learn, the hard way, to be more responsible.  Maybe missing this Bar Mitzvah would teach the child to appreciate that you have to be nice to people who are trying to help you, even if they are your parents.  Maybe, by not "saving the day," I will help my child learn the consequences of the one's actions, and inactions.  Maybe I was denying this child the opportunity to learn a valuable life lesson. 

Still, all my mothering love made me want to help my child.

With my car keys in hand, I casually mentioned that the child really should have talked to me in a nicer, more respectful way.  "You were mean to me," the child responded.

No apology, no responsibility.

I threw down my keys.  "I am not taking you."

My child has to learn that you cannot be rude to the people who are trying to help you.

"Do not wake me again for something you should have planned in advance," I commanded.

I was angry!

Too angry to fall back asleep.

Over the next two hours, I waited for my child to apologize.  Intermittently, my child attempted to "explain" things to me.  Unfortunately, the tone my child used to talk with me was full of hostility and aggression.  The child blamed me, accusing me of "not wanting to help."

I wanted so much to help my child.  But I could not continue helping under those circumstances.

I determined to let my child miss the Bar Mitzvah, in order to learn this lesson.

Then, when my child was "broken," and all the child's anger spent, my child finally turned to me, in sorrow.

The child had really tried hard to be responsible, waking up at 6:00 in the morning, in order to get there on time.  The child had tried to explain, tried to get help, tried to apologize. 

My child was so frustrated, so sad, and so resigned.  There was no longer any anger in my child's voice, just sadness.

It broke my heart.

I got up to give the child a hug.  To my surprise, my child allowed me to hug, and even stayed close, while I held on a little longer.  The child did not pull away.

I sat down and looked into my child's eyes.  I waited.

We spoke a little more.  My child continued to speak softly and gently.  We hugged again.  We looked into each other's eyes again.  I waited.

Silence.

"Ask me again," I softly instructed my child.

"Would you please take me," my child asked, just as softly.

I wondered, again, if I was doing the right thing.  My child had already missed several hours of the Bar Mitzvah.  I hoped that was enough.

On the way, we talked.  I gently pointed out that the child could have been there three hours earlier.  As much as possible, without being too chastising, I wanted the child to understand the consequences of not behaving nicely.

I suggested that later, the child sit down and make a list of things the child could have done differently.  I offered to sit and help with the list.  I emphasized that the list would be about what the child could have done, not what others could have done.   Again, to my surprise, the child agreed.

When we arrived, I asked the child if I should wait, but the child said I should leave.  I would have, had GA not appeared at my window!  I watched my child meander to the entrance, then turned my attention to my friend.  Five minutes later, we were still chatting, when I saw my child meander out of the observatory, from the opposite direction. 

My child did not find the group and did not ask any of the staff for help.  Once again, the child felt helpless and did not know what to do.  I waited for the child to ask me for help. 

The child did not know whether to stay or go.

Finally, I asked "What do you want?  Do you want help?  Do you want someone me to come in with you?"

Quietly, the child answered, "yes."

GA was definitely my angel of the moment.  He offered to help my child find the Bar Mitzvah group, and they ran off together.  A few minutes later, GA returned to my car.  They had found the group.  My child was fine.

I was not fine.

I wondered if I did the right thing.

I am this child's mother.  I will continue trying to help, and I will continue to forgive, because I love this child.

Still, this child must develop responsibility.  That is part of growing up.

On the other hand, "losing three hours" of the Bar Mitzvah seemed like enough of a loss.  Especially considering the child really had shown initiative and responsibility, just not enough.  And the child really did attempt to behave properly, just not enough.

If I continue to swoop in like "supermom," then I am not helping my child learn responsibility.

In the "real world," people are not so forgiving.

But I do not represent the "real world."  I am the child's mother.  If my child comes to me with true remorse, how can I turn away?


What do you think???

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

"I don't need to talk with anyone else. I talk to you."

Unlike me, my kids are pretty private about my cancer.  They want to be like everyone else.  They are normal teens.

More than anything, they do not want anyone's pity.

My cancer is not a secret;  they just do not talk about it.

Last night, my eldest and I had one of our infamous, late night, heart to hearts.  At one point, she threw out a sentence mentioning the cancer.  I picked up the ball, and threw it back in her court, gently asking her to elaborate.  She caught the ball.

I cannot share more details.  Like I said, my kids are private.

I am grateful that she talks to me.  I am impressed by her maturity and her ability to identify, and share, her feelings.  She knows she can talk to me about anything.... and she does.  I am so thankful.

My daughter once asked me to delete a few lines I had written about her.  "Your blog is about your feelings," she clarified, "not mine."

She's right.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

FOOD

Like many kids, I knew I would be a better parent than my own.

Like many parents, I now recognize my own hubris foolishness.

I was especially critical of my mother, certain that I could do everything she did, and more.  And I would do it better, as well.

Well, I might do some things better, but not everything.

And some things I do not manage at all.

Growing up, my mother always prepared dinner for us.  She might prepare/serve it hours later than anybody else, but she did it, every night.  She always served a protein, vegetable and carbohydrate.  And we always ate together. 

We ate what she put on he table.  If we did not like it, tough.  There were no substitutes. 

Eat or don't eat -- our choice.

I hated that.

So, I did things differently.

Now, everyone complains: "I don't like this; I hate that."

We can have a fridge full of food and my kids will complain "there is nothing to eat."

Last night, one of my kids complained, "you don't take care of us the way you used to."

I was never great at the food-thing.  I hate cooking.  It's harder now.  I cook less.

I get help.  Friends cook for us two times a week.  (At least, in theory.) 

Yet, food always seems to be an issue.

There never seems to be enough of the "yummy" food.

When my daughter sighed, and said, "you always used to make us pasta, with olive oil and spices...," I suggested that she make it herself.  It is easy to do and takes 15 minutes. (Why else would I make it so often?)

The very idea upset her.

I began to wonder if there are other issues at play.

How much of my children's complaints are really about food, and how much are they about needing to be nurtured?

Perhaps, under the surface, there is also an element of fear: "Why isn't Ima taking care of us the way she used to?" 



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Separation Anxiety

I am away… again!

In past years, the La Leche League Israel leaders conference has been in May, after Pesach. This year, it is now, today (Tuesday)…

… and tomorrow (Wednesday)…

… less than a week since I came home from the 3 day Beit Natan winter retreat. (… which is always in the winter. Duh.)

I had thought there would be at least a week in between, when I would be home.

I was confused…

… not for the first time.

I feel a little guilty about leaving my family again, so soon.

… but only a little.

The kids are big and barely home. Especially on Tuesday evenings, which, in Israel, is THE day when ALL the youth movements meet.

There is food in the fridge, and the freezer (made by friends, of course).

And my DH is perfectly capable of taking care of anything that might come up.

OK, so last night, two of my kids did not feel well. And, today, my son stayed home from school with a fever. But he is not so sick that he cannot sit and play Runescape. This way, he does not even have to share the computer with me; he really can spend all day on the computer.

OK, so maybe the guilt is a little compounded by the fact that I left a sick child at home. But really, he’s fine. And if he’s not, then my husband can take care of him.

I have to trust that they can manage without me.

Why is it so hard?


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

New Math -- More Humor

My husband is the more patient of us.  So, I was grateful when he volunteered to help our youngest daughter study for her math test. 

After a while, he called for my help.  As a kid, he never had the patience to do long division, so he found it difficult to instruct our daughter.

Pleased that I could help, I slowly walked our daughter through the steps of long division.

After she understood how to solve the equations, Moshe asked her how she can check her answers, to verify that they are correct.

Without missing a beat, our 11 year old answered, "with a calculator."



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Family Dynamics (You can take them out of their routine, but you can't take their habbits out of them!)

Overall, we had a wonderful time in Orlando!

Admittedly, we had a few bumps here and there. 

I had imagined some sort of magical transformation that would create a conflict-free vacation.  I guess, even Disney/Universal do not have that power.  But we all worked hard to make our vacation a good family experience!

It also took some time to figure out who really wanted to do what! 

Surprisingly, we did not all want to do the same things at the same time. (Shocking, I know!)

That should have been obvious, but it was not (at least, not to me).  I worked on "letting go," not an easy transition for me.

Food was a big deal.  Since I barely wanted to eat (and many food smells made me nauseas), I always wanted to go on another ride, rather than sit down for an hour and ("waste time") eating lunch.  The four other members of my party actually got hungry and needed to eat.  Moreover, my kids all inherited my family's trait of getting really obnoxious when hungry! 

During our first week, I had to remind myself that we would be going back to all the parks (or most of them) the next week, and I would get another chance to do everything! 

I really missed my eldest daughter when she went back home (she's left early, so that she would not miss the final week of rehearsals for Pirates of Penzance).  She was my "permanent partner" on all the really scary roller coaster rides!  (Moshe gets motion sick, as does my younger daughter, so they skipped those rides.)    My son, God bless him, does not always want to hold his mother's hand (it is so "uncool" for a teenage boy to hold his mother's hand.  I get it.), but when my eldest left, he was really supportive and agreed to hold my hand for a few of the really scary rides (just as long as there were no witnesses).

My eldest was also a huge help getting everything ready in the mornings, and keeping things organized during the day!

That does not diminish the contribution of my other two kids, who also did their best to be helpful!  All the kids carried backpacks all day and pushed their mom around in the wheelchair (which was not always so easy).

Still, when my eldest left, the dynamic also changed.

Add to the equation that, not only did my daughter leave but, my parents joined us during that second week.

My dad actually took over a lot of the tasks that my eldest did -- especially pushing me around (he wanted the extra exercise!).

In some ways, my dad helped me to keep things in perspective.  I think (at least, I hope) I was a bit calmer during that second week.

I was surprised that I had to focus so much energy on "taking it easy."

I realized I should apply the same efforts in my "everyday life."

If our family dynamics improve as a result of this vacation, we really will have had a magical experience!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Advice from the Rebbetzin

"Avoid arguing, no matter what," responded the Rebbetzin, when I asked for advice, yesterday.

"You can not win an argument with a teenager," she continued.  (My father said the same thing.)

She suggested making a list, together with the teen, of all the tasks that need to be done: chores, homework, clean room, go to bed on time, etc.

Then allow the teenager to choose one task that s/he commits to doing, on her/his own.

Give the teen the control over what s/he chooses.  Then (and this is the hard part) ignore all the other tasks.

Repeat the process once the teen has successfully gotten into the habit of doing the task.

This might sound easy to you, but it feels increadibly difficult to me.

I know it makes sense, but that does not make it easy to "let go."

She said something else, too.

One of my children constantly wants to bring relatively valuable items on tiyulim (hikes).  The likelihood of these items getting lost is high.  I would like this child to wait until s/he is a little more reliable (read: responsible).  The child thinks (mistakenly) that s/he is already responsible (even though s/he still loses things all the time!!!).

The Rebbetzin suggests that these items are not worth fighting about.

"Let them lose these things," she advises, "They will lose things, and they will learn. Kapparah."

"Arguing only makes them dig in their heels, even harder," she says, about all these issues.

I know she is right.

I just do not know if I can do it.


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Bald, bald, bald...bald as a ping pong ball, are you bald!

Only whisps of hair were left.

I took a deep breath and let the rest be shaved off.

Now I can rub aloe vera into my scalp and soothe the redness from the radiation.

The buzz cut feels kind of funky.

I encouraged all my kids to rub the top of my head.

I tried to make it fun.

Bald looks better than extreme thinning.

Bald is cool in the summer.

"Now it looks like you have cancer...." said my daughter.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Freakin' Me Out!!

When my youngest saw me with almost no hair she came up to me and gave me the sweetest hug.

As she hugged me, she said in the cutest voice, "Ima, it's kinda' freaking me out."

At first, I thought she was just disturbed about my hair falling out and the wierd way it looks.

A few days later, following the suggestion of the psychologist from our support group (at Beit Natan), I asked her what is freaking her out.

"Well," she said, "the idea of cancer in your brain is sort of scary."

"I know," I gently responded, "it is sort of scary for me too."



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Telling the Kids (2 out of 3)

This is what went on two weeks ago, after I learned about my brain mets.
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Saturday night, I felt pulled in all different directions. Some last minute issues came up about my son's end of the year play and I had to call the drama teacher to try and resolve them. At the same time, my eldest was anxious to get me out of the house -- I had promised to take her to the mall before she went away the next week. We made it to the mall, but only had about half an hour before the mall closed. Crazy.

I did not have the time, or enough information, to think everything through.

The end of the year play is so all-encompassing, not to mention stressful, that I really hoped to tell the kids afterwards. I forgot that, by then, my eldest would not be home for another several days. I also did not realize how fast things would be moving.

Early Sunday morning, my daughter left for a week-long seminar of "MaShaTzim" (Madrichei Shelach Tze'irim -- a training course for young tour guides).

Sunday afternoon, my oncologist called to tell me he made an appointment for me to begin radiation on Tuesday morning. He could not make it earlier, because the radiation ward was not operating that Sunday or Monday.

I did not expect to begin so soon!

I started reading up on radiation for brain mets. I realized that I really should talk with my kids before I started. But my eldest already left for a week! Aack!

OK, I would stick to my plan of waiting until after the play.

Sunday night, we ended up having a real sit-down dinner. (Unfortunately, It is unusual for us all to be home and eating at the same time.) After dinner, the kids and I sat around the table talking and I knew the time was right.

Over the past few days, I figured out how I wanted to frame the news. From the moment we learned of the diagnosis, Moshe reassured me that this was just "more of the same." That was how I wanted to present it to the kids.

So, as we sat around talking, I told them that the MRI showed progression, that the cancer spread to the brain, that I needed radiation (like I had before) and that I would be changing chemotherapies (again). It felt surprisingly straightforward.

The kids listened, did not really have many questions, and switched topics shortly thereafter.

It seemed so simple.

I wondered if I was missing something.

How could they be so nonchalant about something that sent me into a tailspin?

I had to remind myself that I wanted them to absorb the news without fanfare.

After much deliberation, I had successfully packaged the news so that it was not scary.

So, why was I unsettled?



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Learning to Do Laundry

The first time my son "did his own laundry," he just put things in the washing machine.

Thank God that was all he did!

We had just purchased a new machine because our sweet, but not very competent, cleaner overloaded our old machine one too many times.

With the new machine came my new idea to teach my kids to do their own laundry!

My son finally rose to the call and I was so happy... until I went to the machine to show him how to add detergent.

He had packed that new machine so full that it might have called it quits right then and there!

I tried to explain how to fill the machine and suggested that he have me check it for the first few times.

Well, that was enough to scare my son away from doing yet another task.

Between the challenge of knowing how much is “enough but not too much” and the burden of having to get me to come check it, my son did not even attempt to do another load of laundry...

... until yesterday.

He needed socks for a tiyul (hike) and I told him to sort through the laundry and find all the socks buried there.

When we packed his tiyul bag last night, I realized I forgot to do the laundry.

I had seen a few socks in the laundry, but with everything else that was going on, I did not get around to adding anything and starting the load.

"I did it," my son told me, proudly.

He ran a load with only 10 socks in it!!!

OK, OK, I know, I know. I should have just told him "good job!" I should have just commended him for taking care of it himself. I should have kept my eye on my goal, which is for him to do his own laundry!

But a load of laundry with only 10 socks, maybe less!?!?!

I could not stop myself from telling him that he really should have added other items, since it is really a waste of water and electricity (not to mention money).

Do I get any points for not yelling?

At the time, I felt so proud of myself for correcting him just once, gently, just so he should know. I even made sure to emphasize that the mistake was “no big deal.”

He did not seem too upset by the whole thing.

We went to the machine to quickly place the socks in the dryer.

Then my son remembered.

With a sheepish grin, he informed me, "I forgot to add detergent."



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA