Author: Sheila Quirke

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2014 Emmy Fashion Commentary from a Middle Aged Mom

Hey-O!  It’s that time of year again!  Award season has officially begun with last night’s Emmy presentation.  Sigh.  With back to school and baby’s first birthday and Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, well, I was caught off guard, which is the THIRD AWARD SHOW IN A ROW I MISSED. Nothing screams overtired middle aged mom to me more than missing these award shows and red carpet entrances because I just plum am not aware that they are even scheduled.  And to top it off, I don’t even care about missing the actual show.  How’s that for old lady?

But I do still love the fashion.  I love the pomp and circumstance of the red carpet.  I love the hits, and yes, I love the misses, too.  I love the pretty colors, the shiny jewels, the glowing skin.  I love it all.

Looks like the big trends for the Emmy’s were peplums, bright neon-esque color, beachy, loose hair, red lips, and orange being the new black.  Those gals were everywhere and gave the stuffy awards show a bit of prison chic.  And, blessedly, looks like last winter’s plague of hi-lo hemlines has been retired.  Thank your  blueberries for that trend being gone.

Without further delay, I present my middle aged mom commentary of the 2014 Emmy Award show!

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A Letter to My Babysitters As They Leave for College

My family has been blessed with two pretty amazing babysitters for the past four years — identical twins.  We found their advertisement on the window of our local hardware store, which happens to be on a major Chicago street.  It was scary as hell to call a number from an ad.  Turns out, it was a great call.  One of the twins was a pediatric cancer survivor and they donated a portion of their earnings to research for childhood cancer.  Amazing, indeed!

Dear Girlies,

First of all, I owe you a tremendous amount of gratitude for being part of my village the past four years.  I’ll talk more about villages and why they’re so important in a bit, but just know that Mary Tyler Son LOVES you both, equally, and is just a wee bit devastated that you are no longer our go to babysitters.  Mary Tyler Baby sends another apology for that poop incident last fall.  Our family was incredibly lucky to have found you both. You have helped us out on countless occasions and been reliable, flexible caregivers to our sons.

All you have done for us is so appreciated.  You will be missed.

I remember my first few weeks in a college dorm room.  It was scary, honestly.  Lonely.  Quiet.  I was a bit of a squirrel at your age, not very outgoing and I think folks can interpret that as aloof sometimes.  Long story short, I get that what you are doing — off on your own, not even with your twin for back-up, must be hard.  Your decision to go your separate ways for college has really impressed me.  Staying with what we know, choosing comfort, is how many folks run their lives.  You guys took a risk in choosing different paths and I applaud you for it.  I know you may miss one another terribly.  Peace to you both as you make this transition.

And college is a huge transition.  Not only is the pace of what you’ve been doing — being a student — accelerated, with more rigorous academics, but you are managing that accelerated pace while learning how to live on your own for the very first time.  You have responsibilities at school that you never had at home.  It’s a lot to manage and might take some time to adjust to.

You will also experience a level of freedom that many college freshmen find intoxicating.  Literally.  A lot of college kids drink too damn much.  Like, way, way, way, alcohol poisoning is not cool and could kill you, too much.  Don’t do that.  I don’t think you would, from what I know of you both, but still.  You will be offered a lot of alcohol.  Moderation, girlies, in all things.  Moderation.

And speaking of freedom.  Woot!  Freedom!  So much freedom.  Like alcohol, freedom can be intoxicating, too.  Not all eighteen year olds can handle the freedom.  It’s not because they’re “bad,” or weak or loose or lack moral fiber.  Nope.  It just means that freedom is heady stuff and being away from home the first time means that you are missing your traditional anchors and are surrounded by other kids missing their traditional anchors, too.  That can lead to feeling easily overwhelmed or falling down the rabbit hole that freedom leads you.

I know you gals have strong heads on your shoulders, cause your Mama raised you right.  Even still.  Be gentle with yourself during these first few weeks of independence.  Know that you are in the midst of a wonderful, confusing, intense phase of life.  I envy you for it, really.

Now for those villages I spoke of.  Each of us needs a village.  A group of folks we surround ourselves with that help us, in any matter of ways, to be the best us we can be.  This concept becomes a necessity when you raise kiddos.  My guess is that for eighteen years, you two have been the most important people in each other’s village.  As you separate, choose your village wisely.  If someone hurts you or puts obstacles in your path, repeatedly, chances are they are not a good fit for your particular village. Cut ’em loose.

As for the school part of school . . .  Oh, I envy you that, too.  I remember some of my professors so well, even 25 years later.  I hope you have a wonderful academic experience.  I hope you are challenged and find yourselves on this side of being overwhelmed.  But sometimes you will be overwhelmed.  It’s the nature of the beast.  It’s okay.  Buckle down.  Pull the all nighter, as needed.  Try and pace yourself.  Search for the study rhythm that works best for you.  It might be slow and steady wins the race, it might be marinate thoughts, but put off the actual work until the last minute, with all nighters and lots of caffeine, it might be a combination. You’ll find your own way, but try different methods.

And never be afraid to explore something, even if it isn’t especially practical.  Some of the best classes I took, the ones that taught me the most about life, were religion and Russian literature courses.  Use some of that new found freedom you’ve gained on the luxury of exploration.  There is so very much to learn and once adult responsibilities set in, exploration often gets put on the back burner.  Explore now.

The other piece of wisdom I would like to pass on might very possibly fall on deaf ears at this stage in your lives, but I’m gonna say it just the same, with the hope that somewhere down the line, when life throws you a sucker punch (and life will throw you many, many sucker punches), you will remember and say, “Oh yeah!  This is what Sheila was talking about,” and you might be just a little bit comforted by it.

What you think is going to happen to you, your plans and life maps and methodical preparations, well, they don’t always lead to the life you thought you might have.  Or even the life you wanted.  We can plan and strategize and try and control what happens to us, but the truth is, we won’t always succeed in that.  Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, the Universe just insists on going a different direction.  Your heart will be broken, you will lack some basic thing you need, people will die, you won’t get the job, or the man, or the promotion, cells will mutate, someone you love will disappoint you, money will come and go, your uterus might work too well or not well enough — so many, many things will happen to you that you can’t possibly even begin to imagine now at eighteen.

It’s okay, though.  It will be okay.  It will.  And even when it’s not okay, you will figure it out.

I am so damn proud of you two.  I am so grateful to have been invited into your orbit and into the orbit of your family.  I wish you straight As and boundless love and energy, and an enthusiastic intellect and strength and peace and love.

Best of luck to you in this college transition.  xox

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Having a Healthy Child

A few weeks ago I sat down to fill out some forms for Mary Tyler Son to attend a local park district’s summer camp program.  As I was reviewing them and signing and marking off boxes, it hit me.  It hit me hard.   I have a healthy child.  

Healthy Kid 1

A healthy child is not something I take for granted.  I know better than most that a healthy child on Monday does not guarantee a healthy child on Friday.  We are one scan, one errant cell, one unexplained headache, one pre-occupied crossing of the street away from our healthy children turning into unhealthy children.  That’s the nature of parenthood, but most parents can ignore that precipitous truth.  Blessedly.

Healthy Kid 2

These forms that took approximately three minutes to complete for my son would have taken hours for our daughter.  They would have required addendums and a health history and doctor’s phone numbers, and permission slips, and medical clearance.

Being part of the mom blogger realm has given me a unique perspective, too, in the raising of all the children.  I follow bloggers who write about their child’s cancer, their child’s autism, their child’s diabetes, their child’s mental illness, their child’s allergies.  Having been part of that world for so long, being the parent of a gravely ill child, I have an empathy and deep respect for those parents who wake up, day after day, and do it again.

There is an isolation that is so complete in parenting a sick or special needs child that it’s hard to explain accurately.  When you meet folks in the same boat as yourself, there is an automatic kinship, a fraternity, that transcends small talk and chit chat.  They get it.  You get it.  Relief.  No pretense.

So there at the dining room table, filling out my forms, I had a sense of overwhelming gratitude and appreciation.  I am mothering two healthy sons right now.  Sure, there is the occasional ache, fever, or runny nose.  Like today.  Mary Tyler Baby has a sore bum that makes diaper changing a tragedy for him right now.  Mary Tyler Son had a terrible night of insomnia and today has a cough, runny nose, and slight fever.  We are taking it easy today, catching up on pbskids.org and Minecraft and naps and household tasks.  Honestly, I am so grateful for a day at home.  We’ve been on overdrive lately, squeezing out the last bits of summer before the heat turns to cool that turns to chill that turns to freeze.

I know, though, that in the time it takes to click “publish” on this post, our lives could change.  I live with the ever present fear of that and the harsh knowledge of what a child’s illness can do to a family.  Our biological son, despite the random nature of his sister’s brain tumor, is at a higher risk than other children of a cancer diagnosis himself.  Our adopted son, healthy as a rosy cheeked, pink lipped horse at eleven months, might hold some mysterious and harmful genetic secret that we know nothing about.

Yes, these are occasional thoughts that cross my mind.

I relish these days of health, knowing that so many others don’t enjoy this bounty I have, even tenuous as it might be.  As I sit here click clacking away on my keyboard, I know that not ten miles away, Lurie Children’s Hospital of Chicago is bursting with sick children and the parent’s that care for them.  I know that there are neurologists and oncologists and cardiologists and immunologists that take weeks to months to book a visit, as their clinics are full of kids waiting to be seen.

Living with and losing our Donna means I will never forget those children, those parents, those doctors, those nurses.

Today, if you, too, are lucky enough to be parenting a healthy child, give a silent thought to our collective good fortune.  Think for a moment about those  who are not as fortunate.  And if you are one of those parents who is burdened to near breaking with a child who is not as healthy as you wish them to be, know that someone, somewhere, is click clacking on her computer, thinking of you, your child, your family, your medical team.

Kraft och omtanke to you, and deep respect and kinship.  May you find the strength you need to do it again tomorrow.

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