In Which I Make A Statement

I came across this story on cnn.com today. Similar in many aspects to the Terri Schiavo case, it got me to thinking - again - about what we mean when we talk about "quality of life." Cases like these, I'm sure, have opened up a dialogue for the rest of us and, therefore, we may be more aware of how to make our wishes known in advance - God forbid the need for such wishes to be carried out - but spending years in a vegetative state and wasting away physically is not "living."

I understand, I truly do, the desire to preserve life, but at what cost? For those who would deny someone the chance to end their loved one's state of being, when said state of being requires the use of machinery just to keep their body functioning at a bare minimum, the argument just doesn't make sense. In regards to this case, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi said, "I will do everything I can to save [Englaro's] life. We have to do everything possible to stop a person from dying." When it is clear that a patient will never recover, will never have any quality of life, will never be able to function apart from the very machines that make "life" possible, why must we prevent death? How, really, will death be any different from the "life" she had?

I'm certainly not advocating arbitrary euthanasia, neither am I disregarding that people have miraculously come out of years-long comatose states, but the rights of the patients and the patient's loved ones must be considered. Even in heavily-Catholic, anti-euthanasia Italy, a patient can refuse treatment. Neither Terri Schiavo nor Eluana Englaro was ever going to be able to refuse treatment and others had to speak for them.

We must listen.

Big Love

Backstory: Liam and Ella have commented on several occasions about how "big" my sister, M, is. Given that M is rather, shall we say, not petite, we just kind of assumed that they were commenting on her size. Oddly enough, though, they'd never said anything about me being big. From time to time, they'd say that Nana or Daddy was big, too (Daddy is most definitely not big), so I wasn't quite sure what they were cuing into when they used "big" to describe someone.

Today, I found out.

While we were out for a drive, Ella was chattering away and telling me that J was going to eat her Elmo book. I told her that that would be very silly. She agreed. Then, I told her that Daddy loved her and Liam very much.

The following conversation ensued:

H: Daddy loves you and brother so much.

E: Yeah, he does.

L: Yeah.

E: Daddy is big, like Nana.

H: What does it mean to be big?

E: Daddy and Nana are big, Mumma. They are big with my love. They love Liam and me and they are big with love.

H: Oh! That's what it means to be big?

L: Yeah.

E: And you, Mumma. You are big, too. You love Liam and me, too.

H: I sure do!

She then went on to list pretty much everyone in our family that she sees on a regular basis and tell me how much they love her. Liam agreed with her list and my heart? It continues to melt.

My Heart. It's Melting.

Ella has not been into sleeping much lately. Mind you, she crashes harder than a lead balloon when she finally does give into sleep, but she will not nap and, as she climbs the stairs at night and crawls into bed (both kids have given up their beds are now sleeping on the futon in their room...that's an entirely different post) she proclaims over and over and over that she "can't do this." It's pathetic, really, and breaks my Mumma heart, but the kid needs her sleep!

Cut to tonight. She's on the nutty side, due, naturally, to the lack of yet another nap, and is insisting that she won't sleep, she doesn't need sleep, just "can't won't sleep, Mumma!" God help me, in a moment of maternal weakness and trying to play up something that she's shown the teensiest bit of interest in lately, I've even stooped to telling her that "princesses need sleep to grow strong and smart and beautiful"...I loathe princesses and would love it if she skipped that whole part of being a girl.

I sang to the kids, kissed and hugged them, tucked them in and promised that I would send J up to kiss them goodnight. Little did I know that J was taking out the garbage and recycling and wasn't readily available to run up and kiss them. When he came back in the house, I told him to go up. The Muffins were quiet and he thought maybe he shouldn't disturb them. Not wanting to be made out to be a liar, I pushed him to go up.

Stupid me!

Ella, who I'm sure was on the verge of sleep, freaked the hell out and became hysterical when J kissed them and told them he loved them, but wouldn't kiss and hug her five trillion lovies (that may be a slight exaggeration). J did an "I told you so" to me when he came downstairs and I waited, hoping that she was so exhausted that she'd pass out in a few minutes.

She didn't.

I went upstairs to calm her down and love her up. As I sat on the edge of the futon, cradling my sweet girl in her arms, my half-asleep little zombie of a son came and sat by my side and started rubbing his sister's back and telling her that he loved her. I cannot begin to describe the amazing sweetness of the moment.

Some days I feel as though I've had my ass handed to me on a sliver platter by motherhood but moments like this put it all in perspective.

This is all a really long way of saying that I think I must be doing something right...at least some of the time.

And, damnit, my kids are wonderful.

Busted!

Sunday is generally my busiest day of the week. Between going to church, going grocery shopping (even though I always swear that I'm going to go on a weeknight, b/c it's always more quiet then), trying to make a nice family dinner and hitting the gym, I'm out of the house a lot and the day tends to fly by.

This morning, Katie and I went to early Mass and then went out for a nice breakfast. After I dropped her off, I hit the grocery store and the produce section was mobbed. While I was waiting patiently to grab some tomatoes (making soup again this week!), a kind looking woman smiled at me and I thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place her. As I was bagging up my tomatoes, the woman turned to me again and said, "it's Heather, right?" I nodded my head and my mind began racing to try and place her. Finally, I got it. She's an aesthetist at the fancy schmancy salon I used to go to in Manchester. I love her and have only been in maybe twice in the past 18 months for a facial and brow wax, but felt instantly guilty because I'm not going there anymore. We made small talk and she asked when the last time was that I had been in to my stylist. I answered honestly, that it had been a very long time, and then she asked when the last time was that she had seen me (it'll be a year in late-June). She looked me over, told me I looked great, and I told her that I'd drop hints to J about getting me a gift certificate for Valentine's Day.

It was beyond obvious that she could tell my hair had been cut recently (hello, I have bangs that grow quickly!) and my brows, having been done ~ 3 weeks ago, are still rather sculpted...oh I am so totally busted!

That said, she does do a great facial and is very sweet. Maybe I'll drop that hint to J anyway.

Nothing Says "I Love You" Like Being Able To Postpone Your Together Time

For years, I've been quietly hounding J about getting TiVo. He just wasn't that into it. For a long time, we didn't need such a service. We could watch what we wanted when we wanted. Then Liam and Ella were born and we spent the better part of the first few months with the tv permanently on one of the classical digital music channels, partially to soothe the babes and partially because our brains were so fried that we couldn't take in anything more stimulating than the lilting tones of violins, cello and the occasional harpsichord.

Then, the kids grew and we started to get a little more sleep. Cait and JP got DVR when they moved into their apartment last year and I developed a little case of DVR envy. We started to get more sleep and I was able to actually pay attention to the television shows that I cared about in my pre-kid life. So...I started up again with the whole "we should get DVR" thing. I gave up on TiVo. Everyone who was anyone had DVR, or so I heard.

Last week, after discovering a new show that I'd like to be able to stay up on, missing another of my shows, and giving up entirely on this season of 24 (I just can't sit in front of my computer to catch up on the episodes I've missed), I turned to J and said, "I love you and we need to do something. On Demand is great, but not everything we watch is there. So, for Valentine's Day, we're getting DVR. Because nothing says "I love you" more than an electronic device that allows you to delay spending time together...although it's nice, quiet time once we can sit down to catch up!"

He agreed.

We're still learning the ropes, but last night when I was ~ 8 minutes late for the beginning of Top Chef, I was able to rewind the episode because J had already set the tv to the right channel. Woohoo!

Don't worry. The requisite chocolate and card exchange will still happen for the big day 'o love. The DVR was just a bonus.

I Figured It Out

Everyone always talks about how there need to be more hours in the day. That's not necessarily the solution to getting done what needs to be accomplished, however.

The solution is having more hours in the day when my children are sleeping (and, during which, I am not also asleep). Then I could get to maybe half of the stuff I'd like to tackle.

I can dream, can't I?

Battery Recharged

I was almost late for church this morning, but squeaked in just in time. For some reason, even though I know perfectly well what time Mass is, I thought I had an extra half an hour and J had to remind me to leave.

I love the peaceful feeling I have when I leave church. On the Sundays when I can't make it, I end up feeling very much like I do on the days when I don't make it into the gym. Both "reset" me in a way, I guess, and I feel off when I don't have the chance to recenter myself with either a physical or spiritual workout.

I met an old acquaintance for lunch today and it was so fabulous catching up. We'd always known each other growing up and our mothers are church friends. Lately, Katie and have reconnected recently on Facebook. She lives here in Concord, so I suggested that we meet up for a meal sometime. We talked for nearly 4 hours! I really enjoyed seeing her again and we have plans to meet up next weekend. Looking forward to it!

When I got home, I played with the kids for a while and then hit the gym. Superbowl Sunday is pretty much the only day that you can guarantee that the gym'll be dead. Last night, I started in on a new weight routine that I devised and oh God am I feeling it today. I pushed it pretty hard, but the soreness feels good.

The kids had a great day with J and, although I feel a twinge of guilt for having some days where I'm not around much, I know that it's good for all of us to have a change of pace.

Life is good.