My girl

I could write about my kids every day. They are simply amazing. The challenges they've each been through can be shocking. I have a medical file on each of them, from their times in NICU, and it makes me cry to think of the pain they went through. Emme had physical therapy until she was a year old. Of course it was painful - have you ever been through physical therapy? Emme's therapist told me that the pain was probably equal to that I felt when I underwent therapy to release a frozen shoulder. I prayed, I cried, I swore....but I understood why the therapist was causing me pain. My poor child had no idea....she could only cry. It broke my heart and I was terrified that she would blame me always.

Emme was born with congenital muscular torticollis, and because she was in foster care, and the pediatrician didn't pay much attention to her, it went untreated. By the time she moved in with us, her head was badly misshapen (plagiocephaly). I don't take no for an answer when it comes to my children - I'm like a momma bear. I didn't give up. Every week I called the pediatrician, until he could get approval for a physical therapy evaluation. Finally, we were able to start therapy...a wonderful woman from the Moose Lodge (of all things) came out to the house every week.

I have so much respect for fraternal organizations that provide social service help....Emme was caught in the gray area between Medi-Cal and private insurance...we were unable to cover her under my ex-husband's insurance until the adoption was final (yes, I know that's illegal - but what..he's supposed to argue and lose his job?). But the Moose covered it free and clear.

Our therapist worked with Emme an hour a week, but more importantly, she trained me to do the therapy - 6 times a day, 7 days a week. Pulling and stretching and causing pain. The two of us would cry together.

And every 45 minutes while she slept I'd awaken to move her, to change her position, to massage her sweet little head and try to get it to regain it's normal shape.

Mothers would tell me they couldn't do what I did - they couldn't cause pain to their child. It was one of the hardest things I've done, but I had to remember that what I was doing was for her good. That it would allow her to hold her head upright, to prevent neck pain and problems later in life, that it would allow her to have a normal appearance.

And it worked. On her first birthday I had a photo taken of the back of her head, and gave it to her physical therapist, to show how lovely and straight she held her head. It was a success.

Emme is going through so many changes right now - and I have to remember that we'll get through each challenge as we did that one...crying together, praying, and doing it together.

At least until she's a teenager, right?

Randy Miller from the Myriad

If you're from Redding, you might know Randy Miller, drummer for the Myriad. They won last year's MTV2 Dew Circuit Breakout. They're amazing...anyway, Randy is also brother-in-law to a dear friend of mine...here's some news about him:

Some of you may have heard, our drummer Randy Miller had a large tumor removed from his shoulder/chest area a few weeks ago which proved cancerous. Initial results indicate Chondrosarcoma (cancer of the bone) and a PET Scan today revealed suspicious spots around the surgical area, his left arm, adrenal gland and pelvis. Chondrosarcoma is very rare and for that reason treatment is necessary at special facilities. He has been referred to Stanford to determine the best course of action. The unfortunate thing is Randy cannot talk with the specialist or even schedule an appointment until the state determines if he is qualified for medi-cal. It appears it could takes weeks or longer before he finds out if he is qualified. We'll keep you updated as soon as we know more.

There are immediate and ongoing financial needs for the Miller family. The support that has come in over the past few weeks has been amazing and we would like to thank everyone for all they are doing. Our friends in Third Day just announced they will be holding a benefit concert for Randy on Sunday, December 7th at Friends Church in Yorba Linda, CA.

Tickets go on sale 11/21 at www. transparentproductions. com.

All proceeds go to Randy Miller.

If you would like to help out financially you can do so by donating to a "Mercy Fund" set up by a non profit organization called The Stirring and currently designated to Randy Miller. There are a few different ways you can send tax deductible donations to this fund.

One is online at www. thestirring. org .

Located to the bottom right of the main page you will see "ONLINE GIVING". If you click on this link you will be directed to a secure page where you can set up an online giving account. Once the account is set up you will see the "MERCY FUND" and be able to send secure donations to the family through this organization.

Tax deductible donations can also be sent in the form of a check to:

The Stirring
RE: Randy Miller
3468 Bechelli Lane Suite E
Redding, CA 96002

Any financial support you can give in order to help the Miller's through this difficult time is appreciated.



Thanks for your support,
The Myriad

My 5 pet peeves about the gym

This is really weird - I am older than my mother ever was. Technically, I'm six moths older than she was when she died - As of Saturday, I'll be an age (nope, I'm not telling) that she never was. As can be attested to by the other members of my motherloss group, that's some big deal.

One of the weird things about getting to be this age is my skin. Okay, I know there's more fat under the skin now - thanks to the back problems that made me stop belly-dancing over a year ago. But the skin itself is - different. Softer, but not in a good way....it's hard to explain. But easy to hate.

I wish I had 24 year old skin back. I was pretty modest as 24 year olds go. Now I kind of wish I'd gone around in a bikini the whole year - just to show off that skin. I could even have gone skinny-dipping. Yeah, skinny-dipping. I really would have loved that. Except the part about being naked, of course. In front of other people.

Anyway, I'm back in the gym. Trying to get control of this body before it goes too far south. And I love it. I love the way people say hi. I love the way I feel when I've lifted more weights than I thought possible (thanks to Jerry). I love the way the shower feels on my not 24 year old skin after a really hard workout. I love that my kids love going there, so I don't have to feel guilty about going there.

But there are some things I. don't. love.

1. People who don't wipe down the machines after they work out. "But I don't sweat." Yeah, right. I don't care about that anyway. Well, unless they've dripped all over everything, and then that's just gross. But there are still germs! So I end up wiping the cardio equipment off first (I'd do every machine, but they'd think I was a whack-job). I mean what if the person who was on the elliptical didn't wash their hands and then got on the machine and put their germy little hands all over it? I'm not a fanatic about germs normally, but the gym just seems to be such a breeding ground.

2. People who talk on their cell phone while working out. Loudly. If a call is that important, and it could be, just take it away from the exercise floor. I find it highly uncomfortable to hear the juicy details about someone's romantic escapades when I don't even know them, but it seems that lots of people aren't shy about sharing the intimates. Yes, that's you - the girl that always wears yellow. Just stop it.

3. Heavy lifters who don't re-rack their weights. Enough said.

4. Women in the dressing room who take up the bench, 2 stools, and half the floor space just to get dressed.

5. And here's the big one. The one that made me start thinking about this whole issue - don't touch the equipment someone else is working out on! For any reason. Even if you think you're trying to be helpful.

Tonight I was on one of the treadmills that has a built-in TV. I was watching the Food Network. But I also had the little matrix going that shows the graph of what I've been doing....I'm working on intervals, and it helps me keep track. This woman, who I've never seen before, walks up and says, "Let me show you something," and clicks my matrix off! The nerve! I know she probably thought she was being helpful, but not only was she so NOT helpful, she scared the snot out of me when she came up like that.

So, lady - if you're reading this: Back off. I mean it. But if you want to compliment me on my skin, go right ahead.

TCM Love

I love TCM...or I guess I should say I love the technology that TCM uses now. I guess I should clarify that it's Turner Classic Movies.

Anyway, they have this setup now, where I searched for my last name, and it pulled up (for now) non-existent biographies on both my father and my uncle. Then I just put in a request for email reminders whenever either one of their movies are playing! TCM emails me a reminder, I go to DirecTV and set it up to record. I can do this from anywhere! And I'll never miss another of their movies! Yippee! And how did I find out about this??? Google Alerts. Love 'em.

This is pretty awesome for me. My dad died when I was 2, and Uncle Costia died when I was like 8. Between the two of them, they either scored or conducted almost 600 movies.

Next up, "Commanche Station" with Randolph Scott.

Can you hand me a tissue, please?

My eyes are puffy, now my cheeks are getting puffy. I woke with a headache, and it's getting worse. I didn't blog yesterday, and it's NaBloPoMo. I'm full of ADD-edness today. Driven to distraction. Not finishing anything. Is it the sheer quantity of carbs I devoured this weekend? Is it the fact that I have a milestone birthday this weekend? And, frankly, it's disturbing me. I've been bursting into tears daily this week. I told the kids I thought they could spend the night at their dad's on Saturday so I could do something grown up. They completely nixed the idea. Tears and pleading. So now I'm spending my birthday doing the best things ever - having dinner at Red Robin and going to the movies to see Madagascar 2.

Proven fact - Men can't handle sickness

Boo - I love you.

My kids' school has a tradition. It's the selling of "BooGrams" for Halloween. Great fundraiser for the 8th graders. They can make money to go on field trips where they sneak away from the chaperones and smoke weed. Just kidding.

Jake's 3rd grade teacher forgot to give out the BooGrams on Friday, so they got them Monday. He was really excited that he'd gotten three. One from me, one from his friend Drew, and one from.....a secret admirer.

"Mom, you know my best friend, Hunter? He's got two girlfriends. I think he should break up with one of them. Two takes too much time."

Of course, I questioned him about the secret admirer...he thought it was either M or K. Both sweet girls, I'm sure. As long as they stay away from any idea of corrupting my sweet, sweet son....

"So, Jake, what did this BooGram say?"

Dear Jake,

You are so hot. I am in love with you.

Love,

Your secret admirer

"Mom, what does that mean?" "It means she thinks you're cute." "Oh, that's weird. Why would you say hot for that?"

Yesterday at his parent-teacher conference, Jake's dad brought up the note. Mystery solved.

All the little kids go into the 8th grade room to buy their BooGrams in the weeks before Halloween. They ask the 8th graders for help in deciding what to say....

I know there's an 8th grader out there laughing about this now, in between downing shots and making out with his girlfriend.