Author: Sheila Quirke

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Best of 2013: Happy Birthday, Mary Tyler Mom!

Each January as the calendar turns, it also marks another anniversary for this here blog.  Mary Tyler Mom began as a Tumblr site in January 2011 just weeks after I returned to work after losing my daughter to cancer.  A lot has changed in three years, and this here blog is the reason for many of those changes.  I am grateful for all of them.

I no longer work outside the home, having made the happy choice to focus on adoption and writing.  Now I have a wee little baby to care for, which I credit directly to this blog.  Our son’s Birth Mother found us through Facebook after being introduced by a reader.  Hooray for the Internet!  Hooray for readers!  Mwah to each and every damn one of you.

As has become custom, I take the opportunity each January to take an annual inventory of the previous year’s posts.  It’s my work, really.  The words are the things that keep me sane in between laundry and groceries and pee on the bathroom floor.  And I can’t fully explain how grateful I am to have not only the words that go from my fingers to the keyboard, but for you, dear reader.  You read my words and WOWZA that is empowering.  It’s lonely to write words meant for others when those others don’t exist, so thank you.  Thank you!  

MTM Birthday

January:  The Hole in the Middle of the Bed – This post really packed a punch for me and you.  Written while I was sitting on the floor, laptop on the coffee table, while my visiting in-laws chatted away with my husband above me.  It’s beautiful and raw and about the connections between my two oldest children whose lives only overlapped nine months.  It was recognized by BlogHer and won a 2013 VOTY (Voice of the Year) award.  Transcendant.

February:  Handkerchiefs and Whisks and Chicken and Marriage – Ha!  A lot less transcendant than my writing about grief is my writing about marriage, but as the title suggests, marriage is much more about the nuts and bolts than the finished product.  It takes work, which is what I wrote about here.

March:  Winter in the Park – Turns out I like to take photographs, too.  Nothing fancy that my phone can’t capture, but I likes what I see when I point it much of the time.  That’s probably explains when my phone currently holds 5,279 photos that I can’t bear to delete and can’t seem to transfer to the computer.  Where’s Steve Jobs when you need him?

April:  When Facebook Sucks – A very personal and painful post about wanting what others have and not knowing if it will ever be yours.  Specifically, about waiting to adopt a child when your friends and acquaintances post their happy pregnancy news on the Facebook.  I got some flak for this one, but I stand by it.  Envy is human nature and I was simply honest about it.

May:  A Letter to the Moms of Newtown on Mother’s Day – Exactly as it’s titled, some thoughts and love send to twenty mothers going experiencing their first Mother’s Day with one less of their children.  This is also one of the few posts I published about gun violence in America and the toll it takes on children and families — a growing concern of mine.

June:  Backstage at the Dance Recital – Some thoughts about the strength and beauty of children and all that they have to teach us.  Dance recitals are sort of a stock joke in the mommy blogging business with lots of folks complaining about sitting through them, but this post offers another perspective.

July:  Coming Out of the Closet – A very bittersweet reflection on needing to finally pack away the last of my daughter’s clothing more than three years after her death.  The reason was a happy one — we were preparing to welcome a new little baby to our family through adoption, but the reality of removing those everyday reminders that I once mothered a daughter just about did me in.  And even though I wrote this in July, I actually didn’t get around to removing and packing Donna’s things, clearing that closet, until October.  I think this post helped me get through it.

August:  Four – One of my favorites.  Some musings about the age four — how silly and joyful and frustrating and creative our four year olds are.

September:  Advice to Myself on March 22, 2007 – This is my favorite by default, as it is the only thing I wrote in September.  Instead, each day I featured a guest post about childhood cancer called The September Series.  You should check it out.

October:  Do You Have a Gun at Home? – I don’t think this is my favorite post from October, but it was the most valuable of the month.  A common sense approach to practicing gun control (read:  safety) at home.  One thing 2013 taught me is that writing about guns really gets folks riled up.

November:  Figuring it Out – A post about the complicated nature of open adoption and my faith that despite the difficulties it might cause the adults involved, we will figure it out for the sake of our baby, firmly believing that an open adoption is the healthiest adoption for him to have.

December:  The Santa Question:  When Your Kid Stops Believing – Who would have thought that a four year old would already question Santa’s existence.  I was thrown for a loop last month when Mary Tyler Son started to question.  No worries, as the mall Santa saved the day.

And that’s it!  2013 was a good year for Mary Tyler Mom and for me, the mom behind the blog.  New baby, lots of love, family health, and warm relationships.  Grateful for all of it and grateful for you, too.  Thank you for reading.

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Change Your Diaper, Change Your Life

The last words I heard my daughter utter, slur, really, before she was diagnosed with the brain tumor that would eventually take her life were, “Change your diaper, change your life.”  I remember it like it was yesterday, but it was almost seven years ago now.

Donna had been not herself for a couple of weeks and we had been admitted to Children’s Memorial the night before to expedite an MRI scan which would give us answers to the questions we had.  I woke up with her early and bent over the hospital crib to change her diaper.  As we had done thousands of times before, I set Donna down and got to work.  Our ritual, since shortly after birth, was to share the words, “Change your diaper, change your life.”

It was a clever little mantra that came to me early in Donna’s infancy and struck me as so simple, so true.  As she had countless times before, Donna repeated the mantra to me, except her words were slurred.  She crashed moments later, we were rushed into the CT room within minutes, and our lives changed forever when we learned of her cancer.

Donna lived for another thirty-one months, and all of that time was spent in diapers.  Despite being four, Donna never outgrew her diapers.  She would always say, whenever we flirted with toilet training, “I am too young to use a toilet.”  It was hard to argue or force, as so very many things in Donna’s life were out of her control.  So we didn’t, and she remained in diapers.

I remember just how proud she would be when she grew into a new size.  At her death, that number was 5.  That’s hard to imagine as our baby, now just four months old, is bursting out of his size 3 diapers.

Now, when I change a diaper, I say the same words, sometimes silently, sometimes out loud.  I never fail to think of Donna when I do, and I never fail to recognize just how profound the words are.  Think about it.  There is your baby or toddler sitting or standing or sleeping in wet or soiled diapers.  And then mom or dad or nanny or grandparent comes along and changes that wet, heavy, poopy diaper.  Blessed relief! 

Something so simple completely changes that baby’s life.  I mean it.  Your baby’s life is vastly improved with the act of cleaning and drying and creaming and powdering and swaddling their little bottom in a new diaper.  Wow.  Don’t ever discount the act again.  It’s transformative.   That is some powerful parenting shit, pun absolutely intended.

I think about this sometimes when the sheer volume of diaper changes gets to me.  I think about it in those moments when I am counting pennies and realize just how much a diaper costs (just under a quarter a pop, or .24 cents for the accountants in the house; and, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, don’t anyone tell me I should not use disposable diapers).  I think about it when I realize how profoundly lucky my husband and I are to have adopted our newest little one, and to have the opportunity to love and nurture and care and provide and support another child.

Diaper 2

Full disclosure, diaper changing has never bothered me.  I know many of my friends say with relief, “Whew, I am SO GLAD to be done with diapers,” but for me, it’s never been a thing.  It’s a brief couple of minutes in your child’s day where there is lots of sweet eye contact, playful exchanges between you and baby, and there is a clear beginning, middle, and end.  Mission accomplished, you know?

Change your diaper, change your life.  Yes, mam, it’s true!  I will happily and gratefully and playfully change those diapers and know, really know, how very lucky I am that my simple act of parenting is profoundly changing my baby’s life, if only for a moment.

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Ten Things That Are Better with Children

So yesterday I wrote about ten things in life that are simply harder when children are part of the picture.  Things like airplanes, restaurants, public bathrooms.  You know the drill.  But that’s only part of the story, isn’t it?  Cause those of us with kiddos know that there are a lot of things kids make better.  So, so much better.  Richer, happier, more joyful.

Kids simply are capable of things that adults have lost.  ‘Tis a damn shame, honestly, that we lose some of the wonder of childhood as we rack up the years.  When we parent, we get a second go around with that wonder.  Another date with joy is how I think of it, but only if you are open to it.  That is the secret — to relinquish our years and responsibilities for some moments and reclaim all that we owned in our childhood.  So, without further ado . . .

Ten Things That Are Better with Children

10.  Holidays.  I don’t care what faith you are, what you celebrate, but kids make those holy days and celebrations better and more meaningful.  My husband and I are both pretty much Scrooges, but being with little ones during Christmas helps us find our inner humbug squasher.  And then there’s Fourth of July fireworks and parades.  Memorial and Labor day barbecues.  Even loaded holidays like New Year’s Eve and Valentine’s Day are easier and more pleasant when the focus in on children.  And if you stop and think about the utter privilege of instilling traditions and memories that will last for lifetimes — whoa.  That is some powerful stuff.

Better1

9.  The Dollar Store.  This is the one store where I get to say yes, a hearty, emphatic YES to my son.  It is our post dentist treat, our holiday mecca, our let’s get a few things to pass the time on a cold snow day headquarters.  We both love it here and being relieved of the pressure of more, buy, need, we can just enjoy it together without any stress.

8.  Weather.  Kids love weather.  Hot weather, cold weather, snowy weather, rainy weather.  Kids love it all.  And being absolved of the responsibility of weather — the cleaning of a flooded basement or the scraping of ice that is clinging to the windshield on a below zero morning, well, sure, what’s not to love?  There is such a pleasure in weather that kids take — the thrill of careening down a snowy hill, the sloshing of boots in a shallow puddle.  Watching our kids enjoy those things lets us back to those moments we discovered weather ourselves.

7.  County Fairs / Parades / Carnivals.  One of my favorite days of last year was with my sister and our two sons at the Boone County Fair.  Elephant ears, the Tilt-a-Whirl, sliding in a burlap sack, cheesy plastic winnings from gaming booths.  So.  Much.  Fun.  Serious hard core fun.  And yes, I think as an adult on my own I would have enjoyed the day, but there was something about the hugeness of my boy’s eyes as the attractions kept piling up that just made it better for me.  And the happy nap he took, smiling in his sleep, as we drove home, him clutching a blow-up SpiderMan close to his chest.  Heaven.

Better 2

6.  Friday Nights In.  It’s probably no surprise that I’m writing this on a Friday, as evening descends.  I’m not feeling the weight of having to cook dinner.  There are no lunches to worry about packing.  Nope.  Tonight is free time.  The kids can stay awake a little longer.  I stress significantly less.  It’s just cozy.  There is no expectation to hit the town, or even desire.  On Friday nights, we are all happy to gather together and just hang.  I have everything I need with me.

5.  Olympics.  That damn Putin and his gay hating ways are not making it PC to enjoy the Olympics this time around, but there is nothing that will keep me from enjoying a few of the events with my littles.  The last time around, summer of 2012, Mary Tyler Son was just three, but he still talks about the parade of countries and the pyrotechnics of the opening and closing ceremonies.  I have ridiculously fond and clear memories of watching these with my own folks as a child.  It’s such a rite of passage — something the whole family really can enjoy together.

4.  Birthday Parties.  I love them.  Love, love, love them.  Truth be told, I love birthday parties even without the kiddos.  But when you’re planning a kid’s party, well, swoon.  It is such a special time.  Mary Tyler Son and I like to hit Pinterest together after he settles on a theme.  And yes, I love a theme.  And no, this was not something my Mom ever did for me and my sibs, but hell it sure is fun, if a little overboard.  Not only do I love the joy it gives the little one, but I adore getting to feel like a rock star in my child’s eye.  Fun, fun, fun.

3.  Your Parents.  I love seeing my children interact with their grandparents.  One of my greatest sadnesses is that my Mom never got to meet any of my three children and my three children never got to meet their Baba.  I also think that as we age and have our own children, our parents see us differently.  The relationship, ideally, evolves to accommodate the added generation.  It is an opportunity and an unrecognized gift that our kids give us.

2.  Public Transportation.  When you live in a city, you probably have a love/hate relationship with mass transit.  I rarely use it these days, but have a great fondness for it, as my Dad worked in transit for most of my childhood and early adult life.  I even worked alongside him a few summers as an intern at the agency that employed him.  But kids almost universally LOVE public transit.  The trains!  The buses!  The platforms!  The questionable odors!  Ha — one of these things is not like the other.  Kids don’t see (or smell) the bad, they only see the good.

1.  Sprinklers.  The best $4.99 I’ve ever spent was at the local Ace Hardware for a tiny, flat sprinkler head that easily fits in my pocket.  When the boy was a little one, I always made sure to pack it on summer outings.  It’s amazing how quickly a naked baby turns a good summer party into a great freaking event.  The magnitude of happiness a child can find running through a simple spray of water just astounds me.  The rainbows, the warmth, the simplicity.  It is sheer bliss.

So there you have it.  My life is so much richer for the kids that inhabit it.  My guess is your’s might be, too.  Pay attention to what your kids give you, the joy they bring.  Savor it, work to cultivate it in your own life.  Enjoy those fleeting moments, because it is the memory of those moments that will keep you company as you age and gray and pass that life baton.