Rachel V. Stankowski considered herself, among other things, a writer. Primarily due to the positive stigmas that accompanied the label, but also because it seemed to excuse some of her more major eccentricities, vanity included.
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Seth was in Miami on a business trip (not to be pissy about it, but it did snow here THREE times while he was there. Just saying.) and it was my job today to get Curls to the vet in Madison by 4 pm. No problem. I took a half day off of work and made plans to get together with my cousin and her little family (meeting a new baby, yay!) for dinner.
Except I made it almost to Coloma, which is truly the middle of n-o-w-h-e-r-e Wisconsin, when the vet’s office called to cancel Curly’s surgery.
Nothing like a 4 hour road trip to nowhere!
We’re rescheduled for next Thursday. Thursdays are better than Fridays because if emergencies happen on Thursdays, Thursday surgeries get pushed to Friday and Friday surgeries are canceled. Now we know.
I was a little ticked, of course, definitely frustrated, but I’ve got to admit– there were a lot of oks about the day after all.
It was absolutely gorgeous out– warm and sunny. A good day for a drive, even if it ended up getting me nowhere.
I’ll have another road trip in the near future to finish listening to the excellent Dean Koontz audio book I checked out at the library. (Fear Nothing– really good so far, but I’m a huge DK fan. Huge.)
I got home around 3:30, which gave me enough time before Seth got home to finish up some work I’ve been promising to get done all week (sorry, Sassy!).
And last, but definitely the best, Curly was home when her dad got home and she couldn’t have been any happier. Not only that, but her pup cousin Zoe came to stay with us too and Curls is beside herself with excitement.
Sadly, I had to cancel my dinner with Beth and co, but next time, maybe Seth can come too! Even better!
For now, we’re all home, safe and sound, everyone with at least 2 (if not 3!) good legs for walking on. Not too shabby, really. And Curls will still get her surgery… we just have to wait a little while longer. A week isn’t going to hurt anything. Perhaps by then all the snow will be melted. Maybe.
In other news, my brother talked me into downloading snapchat on my phone. I’ve never felt so old in my entire life. Ever. But he coerced me with promises of pictures of my niece next weekend. How could I resist that?!!
I hope you all have wonderful, wonderful weekends!
Sweet potatoes– she loves them!
PS: Did you see that I tagged this as a recurring theme?! Clever, right?! Because Curly has surgery a lot and bad things always happen. Ha ha ha!
My dad does lots and lots of good stuffs in Detroit. Like a lot. Food and toiletries for the homeless, volunteer tutoring, soup kitchens on his lunch break, etc. At the moment, he’s encouraging folks to vote for Veronika Scott, Founder and CEO of The Empowerment Plan and inventor of sleeping bag coats for the homeless for a DVF Award. According to their website, “The DVF Awards were created in 2010 by Diane von Furstenberg and the Diller-von Furstenberg Family Foundation to honor and support extraordinary women who have had the courage to fight, the power to survive and the leadership to inspire. Women who have transformed the lives of others through their commitment, resources and visibility.” That’s awesome!
If you’ve got a moment and think it’s cool to help people and want the DVF award to go to a really deserving woman who does a lot to help a really troubled city, it would be awesome if you cold take a second to vote for Veronika Scott. VOTE HERE.
Now back to our regularly scheduled program… also inspired (mostly) by my dad, the man who introduced me to the brilliance of the Looney Tunes!
Something a little more light-hearted for this dreary Monday afternoon. It’s feeling especially dreary to me as my husband is in Miami for the week and my friend* spent the morning sending me pictures from the beach in Puerto Rico. Joke’s on them, though– I don’t have a window in my office! So there!
On Saturday night, I crawled into bed and then (very carefully) painted my nails. The fact that I can paint my nails in bed is made possible by the good people of Poshe who invented the niftiest quick dry/top coat ever. I painted my nails a sparkly gold I was unable to resist the last time I was at Ulta.
OPI’s Oy-Another Polish Joke!
On Sunday morning, I was in church and I was over-warm and my mind started to wander. (I’m terrible, I know.) There was a light right above our pew and it was hitting my sparkly gold fingernails just so… they were lovely!
That’s when my mind really went wandering.
Pretty fingernails.
Pretty Lady Fingernails Nail Salon (you remember, Mrs. Swan, right? Heeee-aaaaa look-a like a man?!)
Bugs Bunny pretending to be a manicurist saying to Gossamer the monster, “Now let’s dip our patties in the water!”
Somebody needs a manicure!!
And then I was so happy. Because the fact that I can replay 60 year old Bugs Bunny cartoons in my head at the drop of a hat is awesome.
I was looking for a picture to accompany this post and tried googling several iterations of “Bugs Bunny” and “paddies,” “patties,” or “paddys” until I finally found what I was looking for and lo and behold– there’s an entire Wiki entry for that one Bugs episode. (Hair-Raising Hare… the puns kill me!) Awesome.com!
Also, it had a complete transcript of Bugs pretending to be a manicurist:
He starts talking and acting like a girl and says, “Oh, for shame! Just look at those fingernails! (he pulls out a table and chair and starts working on his nails) My, I’ll bet you monsters lead in-teresting lives. I said to my girl friend just the other day, ‘Gee, I’ll bet monsters are in-teresting.’ I said. The places you must go and the things you must see — my stars! I bet you meet lots of in-teresting people too. I’m always in-terested in meeting in-teresting people. Now let’s dip our patties in the water!” He puts the monster’s fingers into the water to have his fingernails cut, but it contains two mousetraps. The monster yelps in pain, and then sobs.
It’s just too hilarious!
I know I’m an old lady and sound even more so by starting a sentence with “Kids these days…”, but kids these days! I tell ya. Wouldn’t know a good cartoon if it bit them on the nose!
But in other pattie/patty/paddie/paddy-related news: Happy St. Paddy’s day, y’all! To be perfectly honest with you, this is probably my least favorite of all major holidays and I’m glad that for the most part I can focus on Easter… but it did give me a great reason to wear the super cute hand-dyed green and yellow silk scarf I got from my aunt relatively recently. It totally brings out my Godzilla eyes (they are green, mostly, but with quite a disturbing bit of yellow around the middle… you know, like Godzilla).
Happy Monday! Enjoy your green beer, if that’s your style, and drive safely, pretty please!
*Did you catch that “my friend” part? Because that pediatrician, the really pretty one, that I told you about a long while ago– she’s my legit real live friend now. Little bit of a jerk for sending me vacation photos while she knows I’m stuck in a gray office in chilly, chilly Wisconsin, but my friend nevertheless. You know you’re real friends when teasing becomes ok. Amazing what can happen when you (I) just get over your(my)self and try!
Oh, hello… you’re still here?! Wonderful! Got a moment now? Vote for Veronika!!
I am a liberal feminist. I am one of the women to whom Matt Walsh’s recent open letter was addressed. And I’d love to respond. Not point-by-point, because I don’t think the letter deserves it. Rather by making one important point:
YES, Mr. Walsh. Liberal feminists, such as myself, AGREE WITH YOU.
Boys in our society do have it rough– very rough, in many ways. There is no question that boys are often inappropriately labeled with psychiatric or emotional disturbances, that they are more likely to successfully commit suicide, that they are more likely than women to transgress in ways that are legally unacceptable and subsequently end up incarcerated. All of those things are true and concerning and very worthy of attention.
But here’s the thing… Mr. Walsh seems to believe that by addressing any problem, real or perceived, in girls and young women, we somehow dismiss these very real problems that plague boys and young men.
I don’t think that’s the case. And I think what Mr. Walsh fails to realize is that this is not a competition. To recognize and address a problem that primarily affects women does not take anything away from folks focusing on recognizing and addressing a problem that primarily affects men.
I am a liberal feminist and I am intrigued by the “Ban Bossy” campaign. I read Lean In and I understand that it’s a call for awareness– to be aware that we may be calling young girls bossy when the word bossy isn’t warranted. Similarly, we may be calling young boys aggressive when the word aggressive isn’t warranted. My logic takes me from point A (ban bossy) to this point B (think about the words we use to describe personality traits in girls and boys). Mr. Walsh’s point B seems to be something very different.
I am a woman and I am a liberal feminist. I do not consider feminism a dirty word because I know that to be a feminist does not automatically make me anti-male (or anti any other gender in between, for that matter, because what is feminine vs. what is masculine is, truly, a comparison of the average in a way that doesn’t recognize what really may be more of a continuum… but that’s another point entirely).
I don’t know Mr. Walsh except to know that he is a passionate and articulate man. I surmise, based on his two most recent anti-ban bossy, anti-feminism blog posts, that he is mired in a state of comparison that’s not necessarily doing anyone any good.
I’ve talked about comparison before– I truly believe it to be the (square) root of all evil. (Remember that sweet math joke?) I’ve also talked about the notion of promoting what you love, rather than bashing what you hate. As conceited as this is going to sound, I think Mr. Walsh could be much more effective if he embraced these two principles.
By jumping to a place of comparison, Mr. Walsh assumes that to promote something good for girls and consequently women is to bash something good for boys and consequently men. To promote an ideal of leadership rather than bossiness in young girls, as well as in their male peers, is not an emasculating thing… because the point is not comparison. All of Mr. Walsh’s concerns about young men are not only valid, but important and timely. They are worthy of attention and of intervention. Especially as they point to systematic problems with our educational system and a lack of appropriate behavioral health services. But before I could even think rationally about the importance of those things, I had to suppress my anger about the bashing of other things I think are important. And that made the whole article hard to stomach. I imagine a lot of people, a lot of liberal feminists, won’t even note the important points he does make as a result of all the bashing.
I would suggest that instead of using his time and considerable talent to bash the tenets of feminism, Mr. Walsh instead focus on bringing awareness to the problems that are clearly plaguing young boys.
The title of Mr. Walsh’s recent post is this:
An open letter to liberal feminists: girls don’t have it any worse than boys
To Mr. Walsh, I say: or course not. But just because girls don’t have it any worse than boys doesn’t mean we don’t have issues that need to be addressed for the sake of the future of young girls. And just as many issues ought to be addressed for the sake of the future of young boys. It’s not about comparison. It’s about improvement and progress. For everyone. Regardless of gender.
Matt Walsh has a popular blog. He discusses controversial things and more often than not, he seems to be looking to get a rise out of someone. That’s fine, that’ll get you readers, it’ll get you shares, views, clicks, and likes. But will it make life better for anyone? Perhaps that’s not his point… but dang, he could do it. He knows his facts about ADHD and over-medication, about suicide and incarceration. That’s awesome– he should talk about that, do something about that.
I also believe that Sheryl Sandberg and her organization, Lean In, know about the psychological impact certain ideals can have on young women. And that’s what they’re talking about, what they’re doing something about.
My sister-in-law Kayla, Sister Athletic Trainer, is an absolute genius at puzzles.
I don’t mean that Kayla likes puzzles, although I suspect she does. I mean that she is literally a puzzle genius. She can walk by a table holding a 12,000 piece puzzle entitled “sky on a cloudy day” and find at least 6 pairs of matching pieces before I can even figure out which way to orient the picture on the box.
I am not being facetious.
Maybe Kayla has just had a lot of practice. She has spent three of our last 11 week long cottage vacations doing puzzles as she recovered from major knee surgery (as good as she is at puzzles, she’s not exactly awesome at keeping her own ligaments from tearing). Maybe it’s a gift from God or something. (Drop Dead Gorgeous reference… anyone?) I don’t know. But she’s real good.
At the moment, I feel like I’m staring at a complicated and beautiful puzzle and all that I have left is one particularly challenging bush or patch of sky or something. Once I get a couple pieces in place, the whole dang thing is going to fall together, but I can’t figure out where to start and I am le frustrated! (The “le” is intentional– I’m pretending that the word frustrated is French.)
Here’s what’s up:
In my job (like my real J-O-B) I work as a scientific research writer, which basically means that I help clinicians and scientists to write grants and manuscripts (and yes, sometimes even eulogies and other speeches and such) about whatever scientific endeavor they favor at the moment. I’ve worked on tons of different things. It’s awesome, really, because as much as I dig STDs, 6 years of nothing but gonorrhea and chlamydia got to be a little bit much. I’m not that into it. In my current job, I get to learn about new and interesting things all the time– oncology, genetics, bioinformatics, cerebral palsy, Alzheimer’s disease, chronic kidney disease, pancreas divisum, diabetes, neuroprostheses, patient navigation, and the list goes on. It’s awesome… like being in school minus the grades plus a real salary. Life is good.
Because I really love science and because nerdiness is my life, not just my job, I get quite invested in the things I do. And it’s all that much easier to get sucked in when I work with really passionate investigators… and so many of these investigators, just wow. These clinicians see a problem in their practice and come to us to either study the problem or solve the problem, and it’s inspiring. I have three projects swirling around in the back of my mind all the time right now. And there’s something about them that’s similar, they are related, they are somehow the answer to one another’s problems, but I can’t figure it out. That’s my puzzle. And it’s becoming my obsession. How can I make these things work together for the good of patients? I won’t know until I can fill in the sky!
Not long ago, I worked with a pediatric nephrologist and learned about Bardet-Biedl syndrome (BBS)– a rare genetic disorder that results in cilia malfunction and many consequent symptoms affecting nearly every organ system in the body. Because the disease is so rare, finding care for these kids, especially coordinated care with specialists who truly understand the disease, has always been a major problem for BBS families. Recognizing that challenge, Dr. Haws started The Treatment Center for BBS at the Marshfield Clinic to provide coordinated, comprehensive care for patients around the country… and even around the world. It is the only BBS clinic in North America and has already served 16 individuals from 14 different families in its 3 clinics to date. I helped Dr. Haws capture survey results from providers and families that participated in the clinics and the comments from the grateful families were overwhelming. I was particularly struck by the woman who blogs here at 71toes.com (polydactyly is a common symptom of BBS and her family of 7 was no exception– how clever!) as she documented her family’s participation in the clinic. So cool!
Coordinated care for kids with special medical needs… it’s a thing that’s done well for many kids at Marshfield Clinic. But what about kids in the foster care system?
I have also spent a lot of time working closely with the medical director of the Marshfield Child Advocacy Center. She is totally committed to creating a Foster Care Medical Home (FCMH) for kids in the foster care system in Central Wisconsin. Medical homes are a really effective and interesting way to make sure that healthcare needs are met in a timely, consistent, and patient-centered manner and it’s something Marshfield Clinic has really embraced in recent years resulting in huge cost savings as well as huge reductions in the need for emergency care and hospital readmissions. We don’t have one for kids in the foster care system, though, and they likely really need it. At the moment, I’m working with Dr. Iniguez to complete an American Academy of Pediatrics planning grant for the FCMH and we just completed our third of four focus groups with foster care providers and past participants. Holy… wow! These families. I mean, I was into it before, I thought it was a great idea… now? I’m smitten! I want this to succeed, to help these families, so very, very badly! I am committed. But how? Where do we find the funding? Whose going to coordinate the care? Can it be like the BBS clinic?
And finally, behavioral health. I told you about my big fat $1.5 million HRSA grant? The one that kept me from blogging for over a week, right? What I didn’t tell you was this: due to a “misinterpretation” of the guidelines, the grant was triaged without being reviewed. WTF, right? I know, I’m furious, but trying to be cool about it… because the program is just way too important to let die now. Yes, it was a big mistake. No, I was not at fault (thank goodness, right?!). But dang, do I ever feel responsible… disappointed… dejected even. It was unpleasant news for everyone involved. And now we’re looking for another way. Another way to bring behavioral health services to patients in the primary care setting who desperately need them, but cannot get them due to the provider shortages we face in our area. How does this fit in? Well, you know who else desperately needs behavioral health services but can’t get them? Kids in the foster care system. These kids benefit tremendously from the notion of trauma-informed care… care that keeps in mind, always, that these kids have been through a really stressful, really awful situation and that those traumas subconsciously inform their every single action.
So, in conclusion, I feel like there’s something there… an invisible thread weaving its way through these projects and constantly tickling the back of my mind. It alerts me to the fact that there’s something in common, some answer that I’m overlooking, some person who needs to be contacted or informed or something. I just can’t find what that something is at the moment. I am missing a vital piece of the puzzle– I’ve got to find my special purpose! (The Jerk, yes?)
Two winters ago, my husband’s grandfather set up a card table in the living room and worked on a puzzle all winter to keep himself occupied while it was so cold. He did a bigillion piece puzzle or something and it had a lot of sky in it. Lots and lots of plain, blue pieces spread out on the table. And when he got to the very end? One was missing.
There was one piece of sky that was blank.
And it stayed blank for a while.
Until one day, Ed, my grandfather-in-law, bent down to put his shoe on and found a puzzle piece in it. It was in his shoe! Right there! All along! He snapped it in and the puzzle was complete.
I’ll find the piece. I’ll make the connection. We’ll make the foster kids a medical home and extend behavioral services to the population that needs it.
It’s so sad for me to sit down at my computer and to log in to Under the Tapestry only to realize that all those ingenious blog posts I wrote in my head never actually made it onto the computer. Fevers’ll do that to you, I suppose. I don’t know what I had and I feel terrible for spreading it (so sorry, my darling, Michele!!) (not sorry for licking the door handle), but I’m finally feeling considerably better. With the exception of the bits of liquefied brain that are clearly trying to leak out of my head through my sinuses, I’m feeling pretty good and my grossness is significantly diminished (P < 0.05).
So onward and upword! First things first: you guys are SO freaking awesome for giving me such a positive response to my STD news. I mean… STDs, right? Ew and stuff. But you totally clapped for the clap anyway and it was awesome! Thanks for that!
But today, what I’d really like to talk about is dinosaurs.
I don’t have enough material for a real dino-focused post at the moment, but I did see a seriously sweet dinosaur hat on a little boy last week and it got me thinking…
At what age do you become “too old” to dance in and out of buildings wearing a dinosaur hat?
I passed a family headed into a building one day last week. It was a family of three. A mom and two sons– one a sullen teen or pre-teen, tall, gangly, peach-fuzz mustache, and permanent scowl. The mom looked beat. But the younger boy? He was grinning and spinning! He was dancing and flailing his arms and having a good old time on his way to the building.
He’s the one who made me light up. It was adorable!
But then I came to my question above. Because had the older boy been doing the same thing, I probably would have affixed my scowl and thought something rude about his immaturity or whatevs. Could he have done anything right? I mean, I was annoyed with him for his scowl in the face of his brother busting a move… but I’d have been annoyed if he’d busted a move himself. He couldn’t win! I was being too much a judge-y jerk!
YOUTHS!
And I thought about how that made me a total Rachel… like Rachel from Friends. And not in a good way. Rather, in the way she was in the episode where she and Phoebe go running together– Rachel taking little perfect strides, breathing in time, while Phoebe ran all arms and legs akimbo, just having fun with it.
I’m such a Rachel sometimes! (Not in the enviable hairstyle kind of way, more the stick up her backside kind of way.) It would probably suit me to loosen up a bit (I know you’ve been saying that since I was like 8, mom, I know)… perhaps to drop the -el… yes, I think it’s the -el that’s weighing me down.
More Rach! More dinosaur hats! More fun! Less judgement!
But baby steps. Because I am not ready to rock a dinosaur hat on my head any more than I’m ready to bust a move on the skywalk between the Lawton and the Laird. (Busting a move in the office hallway? Maybe… so long as I’m not doing it alone.) It is something important to think about though.
Because, clearly, there’s no doing right by me when you’re an awkward teen. The thing that should probably change? My attitude. Less -el. More blog posts 🙂
Fun fact: I went through a brief period from approximately consciousness through about 8 or so where I hated, hated, hated anyone calling me Rach. And I would totally correct people. Now I totally love it and consider it a sign of natural and unforced intimacy. My sister calls me Rach. My big in grad school (because I sometimes pretend grad school is like a really effed-up sorority) calls me Rach. Some of my super sweet new Marshfield friends call me Rach. I just love it! Granted, I cannot fault those who have known me much longer for not as, to be fair, I would have ripped their heads off over it once upon a time. But now you know.
Not-so-fun fact: I had the same two teachers for sixth and seventh grade– Ms. Fisher and Mrs. Johnson. I adored those two and they had nicknames for everybody, probably because they were absolutely brilliant at making you feeling like you were welcome and loved in their classrooms. They used to call me “Ra-cha-cha” (got to admit, I didn’t love it) and sometimes it would get shortened to just “Cha” (better because my friend Em always called me Racha from the time we were like 2 and 3). One day in science class, we were reading from the textbook out loud in class and Mrs. Johnson was announcing the next reader by name. I heard her say “Chaaaaaa” so I started reading. Loudly. Confidently. Like the nerd I was then and am now.
And it was awkward… super, crazy awkward… because she said “Chaaaaaaad”, which is not even kind of my name, and rather, the name of the boy I’d been crushing on since the moment I’d walked into the Miss Dimitroff’s fourth grade. The horror! I remember the mortification distinctly, the desperation of my hurried explanations in a tiny voice (I thought you said Cha…?) and the extreme desire to disappear.
Fun-ny fact: Chad was not worth the crush. The more you know 😉
I haven’t been sick in a while, I suppose I was due. But my goodness– this cold is miserable! Trying to keep a little perspective, though. Thank goodness for drugs (better living through chemistry!) and the snuggles of my sweet pup. I have a feeling I’ll be on the mend in short order and all will be well by the weekend.
It better be, anyway! Because I’ve got PLANS! Book club on Saturday night… Wes Anderson movie marathon on Sunday. I’m pumped about both– so sickness be gone!
So. Are you ready for a forced and awkward segue? Good!
Sickness… diseases… bacteria… bacterial STDs… I studied bacterial STDs in grad school…
And we’re there.
Some seriously good news on the gonorrhea/chlamydia forefront last week!! My old boss emailed to let me know that my coinfection model has been repeated. And not just once, but TWICE. Once in another strain of mice (in case you’re “in the know”… I did it originally in BALB/c mice, another graduate student just did it in C57/Bl6) and once by another group up in Boston (total burn moment for the drunk PIs who tormented me at my poster in Banff– mwuahahaahaha!!). Both repeated my entire first paper– demonstrated coinfection with gonorrhea and chlamydia in female mice (which is ridiculously and unfortunately common in female humans) and increased levels of gonorrhea in mice that are coinfected with chlamydia (which incidentally, has also been shown in women since I graduated… word).
So, all that’s good news… but the really exciting thing to me is that while I was in grad school, I found the freaking mechanism. I did flow cytometry, I made beautiful figures, I wrote a paper and planned to submit it to PNAS (it’s a big deal), but since I graduated in 2011, that lovely piece of work has sat there in my dissertation on a shelf. HOWEVER, now that others have repeated the findings from my original manuscript, my grad advisor feels comfortable getting this second one out there. YESSSSSSS!!!!!
Gonorrhea’s pretty exciting, huh? Better than whatever virus is hanging out in my sinuses at the moment, anyway.
So let’s celebrate– and CLAP for the CLAP!
(Clap = gonorrhea. But I’m sure you already knew that.)
I told you about my friend Aimie last week– she’s super awesome. And now you know. The thing she invited me to last week was also awesome. So awesome that I decided it really required it’s own post.
The event was part of a campaign called Spread the Word to End the Word. The word they’re talking about? The R-word. It’s not cool to say, it’s not fun to use, and it doesn’t make for good jokes. The end.
Before the killer puppet show (don’t worry, I’ll tell you about the puppet show), a man named Jason got up and told us his story– his moment of realization about the R-word. And this is what he said (huge thanks to Aimie for getting this for me… truly, she’s awesome).
A few days ago I heard a joke that made me laugh. Actually it has made me laugh every time I have heard it (at least 50 times since grade school). The joke is “whats better that winning a gold medal at the Special Olympics? Answer: not being ret**ded” WAIT! keep reading. I am certainly not evil it has just been funny since I was a kid because of how bad it is BUT before you judge me….trust me, if that joke offended you and you enjoy sweet sweet justice…then read on. I went to the YMCA today after being quite ill with the seasons newest ailments. I somehow mustered up enough drive ( with minor remanents of bronchitis I think) to do 15 minutes of Battle ropes, a full 45 minute upper body weight training routine and 5 inclined miles on a treadmill (if you have ever seen a fire hydrant run for it’s life then you would know just what accomplishment that is for me). Feeling pretty darn good about myself I headed to the locker room. I first called my wife to boast of my accomplishments…and to give a small warning that I might pass out if I don’t sit down for awhile. I told her of my plan to take a breather and then sit in the hot tub for 5 minutes. We laughed about my lack of fitness and probability of impending embarrassment of having to be fished out the YMCA hot tub. Now off the phone and ready to relax I walked into the pool area. It was much louder than usual and there seemed to be A LOT of people in the pool for that hour. In the hot tub sat a single young man keeping to himself. I normally don’t engage the “tub sitters” when I am there, I’m just not that kind of guy. I get this odd sense of relief when the person in there is around my age and quiet. I walked down into the tub and what happened next was so unbelievable that I am taking the time to write about it here. No sooner than the water hitting my waistline the man stood up move towards me with serious sense of urgency and commitment. With his right wrist anchored on his belly he extended his hand out to me and in tone and volume that you would expect from the greatest circus ring leaders he belted ” HI MY NAME IS MATT! WHAT IS YOUR NAME!..I responded with “Hey Matt my name is Jason, nice to meet you”…in which he volleyed back “HI JASON, MY NAME IS MATT AND IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU…YES…NICE TO MEET YOU!”. The look in this young mans eyes during this remarkably animated salutation was nothing short of the most confident, endearing, genuinely inquisitive and caring look I may have ever seen. Just then a older man interrupted us and said okay Matt, back in the pool. He quickly acquiesced without any hesitation. Watching him return to the pool I then realized that the pool was full of people that required some additional attention and had unique personal challenges. Now I was alone in the hot tub watching. As I watched I literally felt my heart warm, warmer than the waters around me…so warm in fact it radiated to my face and made me smile. Now for the Amazing lesson part… I sat back for another moment by myself enjoying my appreciation for what was going on around me when it happened…It was one of those moments that I wish the whole world could experience. A young man in his late teens early twenties made his way down the stairs into the tub…now I recognize that look of supreme confidence and braced myself for the engagement I was about to have. He moved through the water quickly and with purpose. Sitting down in a hurry in the corner opposite of mine he immediately took notice of me and spoke out in a passionate tangent ” MY NAME IS PHIL, HAVE YOU HEARD OF ME?DID YOU HEAR I WENT TO STATE LAST YEAR?THERE WERE A COUPLE OF US THAT WENT TO STATE LAST YEAR?I’M SAVING THIS SPOT FOR MY FRIEND?WHATS YOUR NAME?…jason…HI JASON ..another person started to make there way into the tub… HEY THIS IS JASON..JASON THIS so and so…HE WENT TO STATE TOO..A COUPLE OF US DID …as he continued to speak the hot tube began to fill up to capacity…and Phil, one by one introduced me by name to each of them. He also told them where to all sit, where to stand and finally his friend arrived to take his place at the right hand of the GREAT STATE CHAMPION PHIL. Now the hot tub was literally filled to capacity with standing room only. I was surrounded by some of the happiest and content people I had ever had the pleasure of being around. I couldn’t help but smile as I heard them laughing and talking each other up with such sincerity and innocence. An older woman was standing outside of the tub watching this crew of AMAZINGLY CONFIDENT CHARACTERS with personalities that could fill the entire pool not to say much about the small hot tub. I had to ask… Excuse me miss…is this some type of group event are all of these amazing people from the same place and are you a volunteer? And with a smile she looked me straight in the eyes and said…yes I am a volunteer and these are the Marshfield Swimmers…The Special Olympics Swim Team. Phil stood up and announced it was TIME TO PLAY THE GAME WITH THE BALLS IN THE OTHER POOL and the tub cleared out as fast as it had filled. I was the last one to exit; meeting that woman at the top of the stairs. I had only one more question for her…where do I sign up to volunteer? She introduced me to the Team manager and quickly gathered all of the paperwork. She said last year they had 9 athletes and this year they have 16 so they can use all the help they can get! She was almost as excited as I was. She made a comment that I will never forget for as long as I live ” you know, they will look at you as a role model”..I let that responsibility settle in for a moment and responded “I think they are the ones that are the role models “…her and the manager both nodded. When I left with my paperwork in hand I sat in the car for a moment and just smiled. I could hear God laughing at me in enjoyment as if to say ” ohhh my little jug-head, you are too easy sometimes, a little inappropriate joke for the set up, a couple of my very special children for the delivery and BAM…life change….bet you wont laugh at that little stand up bit again will you?”. I know this is long post but I really felt compelled to share it here. I start next Tuesday and I cant wait…but, for those of you that know me I have to add one more thing…last year … 6 of the 9 athletes from Marshfield went to state. So as luck would have it…looks like I will be helping awesome people be awesomer! Thank you for reading and I hope it inspired you in some way.
The kids loved it Jason’s story. Naturally. And I was left grinning from ear to ear. It’s a big deal– to be able to change your mind, your outlook, your world-view because you realize that there’s a better way. Too cool!
And after that awesome story, some puppets told the rest!
That’s Hairy– kind of Big Bird-like and very cute 🙂
Hairy and Company and their human friends told some stories, sang some songs, and made us all laugh and cheer. Aimie and I laughed especially heartily when we realized that someone had turned an awkward hybrid of our friend Michele and me into a puppet. A puppet named Dudley.
Dudley was shy at first, hesitant to even introduce himself to all of us. Then he did, “Hi! I’m Dudley! I have problems and I wrote a song about it!”
Word, Dudley!
Hi, I’m Rachel! I have problems and I write a blog about it!
Oy, that was poignant 😉
But seriously, I was thrilled at the message these kids were getting. To be yourself, to respect others, to be ok with differences, because really, we’re all a little different in a lot of different ways. And they loved it! They sang the songs and danced and cheered for those crazy puppets. They clapped for Jason and yelled out responses to questions. It was so great!
And the biggest message? Mental capacity is just one tiny way in which we might be different from someone else. One. Of millions… billions… trillions even! So respect it, limited or not, and look for the things that make others special.
One of the most popular Under the Tapestry posts to date was the Profile in Awesome featuring Aimee Rathbun. And I can see why– Aimee really is awesome! And she makes for an absolutely riveting read!
Aimee Rathbun is actually one of only FOUR really awesome (Aimee/Aimie/Amy)s that I know. (That, by the way, is the plural of the name A-ME in all its different spellings. You’re welcome.) And for my second profile in awesome, I’d like to tell you about my co-worker, my friend, and all around awesome.com person Aimie Eckelberg.
Aimie started working in the Office of Scientific Writing and Publication shortly after I did in 2011 and good grief am I glad she did. For two reasons: 1) I don’t think I could survive in my job without her, but more importantly, 2) SHE’S AWESOME! She has since moved on to greener pastures as part of the Clinical Medicine and Research staff, but (fortunately for me) her office didn’t move. YAY!
Aimie on the far right– pretty in pink, adored by her office-mates 🙂
So I asked my friend Aimie Eckelberg to be my second profile in awesome. I was totally anticipating an uphill battle to convince her to participate, but was pleasantly surprised when she quickly said yes. (YES!) However, I perhaps was a bit too coercive and pressure-y (so sorry, Aimie, dear!) and she ended up asking not to write about herself. Although, it wasn’t so much her concern about writing about herself that did her in. Rather, it was her concern about writing about her family and not doing them justice that truly concerned her. Which of course, made my heart swell with pride for being able to call Aimie my friend and made me want to profile her all the more. Considering that this is only the second-ish installment in this series, I think you can probably forgive the departure from the norm.
There are so many things I adore about Aimie! She’s crazy nice, super cute, undeniably stylish, bright (like really bright), 100% mom-spirational, and the type of person who just knows who she is and what she’s doing and does all of it (and more!) in such an admirable way. It’s impossible not to just love her. (Or at least I assume it is, I’d like to see someone try!) To be honest, I loved Aimie from the moment she came in to interview. So much, that I creepily pointed out her perfect and flawless skin as a good reason to hire her. We did. But I’m pretty sure her skin was only part of the reason why.
Aimie grew up with her brother and parents in Spencer, Wisconsin… a town even smaller than Marshfield (believe it or not) just to the northwest of where we are now. Aimie truly embodies what it means (to me, anyway) to be from the Midwest. She is unassuming and hard working. Soft spoken, for the most part, but loyal to the core and unwilling to let something wrong go without taking action.
I absolutely love that Aimie is a local girl through and through. Every day, she demonstrates how much she believes in this community and truly makes me look forward to having lived here longer than not– to have roots in this town like she does. Last night, Aimie invited me to a campaign for Spread the Word to End the Word at her kiddos’ school and I went intending to take a couple pictures of Aimie doing her thang and to talk to Emma and Noah about what it is that, in their opinion, make their mom so dang awesome. I got way more than I bargained for. Of course. Because she’s Aimie. And I plan to tell you all about Spread the Word to End the Word and the awesome Harry and Company puppet show I saw later this week– it’s totally worthy of it’s own post and only goes to prove more and more why the things that Aimie are involved in are good things, for her family and for this community.
In fact, motherhood and kid stuff are the things that seem, at least in my opinion, to make Aimie tick and that’s what I really want to highlight about her. Aimie is, as I mentioned, 100% mom-spirational and her kids are 1) awesome (likely due to good parenting) and 2) special in a lot of ways. First off, Aimie’s two little bebes are quintessentially boy and girl and oh so different from each other. I’m so impressed with how Aimie and her husband parent two such incredibly unique children. Unique and adorable children.
Do you see how adorable these kiddos are?! (Plus, Aimie’s skin, right? Cover Girl-style flawless!)
One of the most amazing things I see about Aimie as a parent is her crazy perseverance. I’ve only known her for a little over two years, and even in that short time, I have seen her find herself constantly in the position to have to fight, fight, fight for what her children need. And she does. She never gives up.
I suppose a little back story is in order. Aimie’s oldest child, Noah, is 10 years old and was born with spina bifida, the most common permanently disabling congenital condition in the United States, which results from failure of the spinal column to close completely. I’d love to say that Noah is completely normal despite his condition, but that wouldn’t be true. Because honestly, nothing about Noah is normal. He is an unbelievably bright and articulate kid. He is fascinating to talk to. (He challenged me to a magical dual last night, by the way. He also schooled me in HP trivia. Awesome kid!)
Noah is hilarious and independent and thoughtful and kind and, not only all of that, but he’s crazy athletic too. Under the tutelage of paralympian Tony Iniguez (like real deal was in the olympics in Beijing, coached in London, for seriously), Noah recently took up wheelchair racing and plans to someday attend the University of Illinois to continue his racing career. And it’s not just racing either! Noah plays sled hockey and basketball and loves just about every active thing he can get himself into– which is legitimately pretty much everything.
And Emma is just as special! It’s incredible the way her shy smile can light up a room. She absolutely beams. Although, the sparkly letters on the back of her Universal Academy of Dance jacket certainly help the case in that respect. Emma is super into dance, and really, really good at it– ballet, jazz, tap, you name it. And she got so into cheerleading this fall that Aimie dusted off her pompoms and practiced her cheers until she ended up as the coach! So fun! Go Tigers! All the little girls adored Aimie (what’s not to adore, right?)… especially when she was “weird”– and that’s a direct quote from one of the girls 🙂
So because her kids are so amazing and because it hurt Aimie to see them struggle at certain things, Aimie opened her big old heart and wrote a book about it. A children’s book.
In 2010, Aimie Eckelberg added author to her resume when she wrote a children’s book called Walk the Walk.
Walk the Walk tells the story of Jon, a little boy with special needs who turns a bit of bullying at the start of a new school year into an opportunity to teach other kids about differences and understanding. And this book has done just that over and over and over again. Noah and Emma’s classes have read the book, Aimie has brought it in and discussed it, Noah has used it as an opportunity to show off his braces and talk about his differences and pretty much always, his peers are fascinated. Aimie has spoken about her book and been an activist for children with special needs through the Children’s Miracle Network and Spina Bifida Association. Her name is passed around by obstetricians here at Marshfield Clinic looking to help families facing new challenges find a mentor. She inspired me to adopt a family this Christmas through the Pediatric Angel Fund. And she is a well-respected and admired member of this community.
The only thing is, despite all of this awesome, Aimie has eaten a large slice of humble pie and any and all of this is dragged out of her or made public knowledge in some other way… otherwise, you’d truly never know. (For example, another coworker, Deb, said to a physician lamenting Aimie’s absence from work one day, “Aimie has a child with special needs AND wrote and published a book about it for other children!” He was floored… and impressed!) But I want you to know how awesome Aimie is and for Aimie to recognize all of the good that she’s done.
To round out this profile in awesome, I really wanted to know what Noah and Emma thought about their mom’s awesome qualities. I’ve got to tell you, though, to them– she’s just mom.
I asked Emma first. Her response: She gives us candy!
To which Noah immediately replied, “Emma! Are you kidding?! She drives you to dance! And pays for your dance!”
So I asked Noah. His response: She pretty much drives me everywhere.
Good point Noah, much better than Emma’s. (sarcasm)
Although, they thought about it on the way home and came up with a lot more reasons. So many reasons that they made me a list and had Aimie bring it to me this morning.
So much awesome!
Love it! Love it so much! She is a mom through and through, and that’s what her kids see– she loves them and cares for them, she feeds them, clothes them, houses them, she is smart, funny, patient, and giving. Normal mom stuff. And what kind of a testament is that?
A huge one, if you know about the behind-the-scenes. About Aimie’s struggle to get her children the care and support they need in various local school systems. About Aimie’s necessity to fill in and coach cheerleading at the last minute because someone else was going to let the girls down. About Aimie’s ongoing fight to make sure Noah and Emma have every single opportunity they could possibly want– be it educational assistance or wheelchair sports. And the two of them will likely never be the wiser… at least not for a while. Until they are grown up and truly capable of appreciating all of the good and amazing things their mom does. She’s certainly appreciated for it all elsewhere! She is certainly awesome.
Like I said in the beginning, Aimie has introduced me to a lot… and she’s awesome. I can’t wait to tell you about the Spread the Word to End the Word campaign later this week, it’s too cool!
This morning a beautiful e-card full of hummingbirds and flowers popped up in my inbox. It was from that crazy nice security guard who gave me a ride on Friday– he was thanking me for the doughnuts! All I wanted to do was thank him for being so kind on so many yucky days! Goodness gracious, do I ever love living in Wisconsin. The kindness in this place, it’s nearly overwhelming!
A Jacquie Lawson e-card. A huge smile on my face.
It’s the littlest things, isn’t it?
This is the reward for trying.
I was reminded of that all weekend. How important it is to try, even when you’re scared or shy or nervous or anxious. Trying makes all the difference.
You see, my friend Krystal came over this weekend (and she brought her husband and daughter with her– also kind of cool!) and I was stressing before hand. Why? I don’t know… but I always do. Krystal is super happy and kind and fun and pretty like you wouldn’t believe. She’s an amazing mom and crafty and hilarious and has excellent taste in movies and gorgeous, super long, curly hair. Every time I see Krystal I get nervous all over again that she’s not going to like me.
Except the first time I really met her, she proved me wrong right away.
Seth was one of Krystal’s husband’s groomsmen and I flew to Green Bay from DC for the wedding. I didn’t know them much at all– I just knew that they were cool (perhaps a little too cool for a nerdy girl like me) and that Seth loved them. I had to go to the rehearsal with Seth since he was in the wedding and what else was I going to do in GB (in January!) while he was busy with wedding stuff. I thought it would be awkward and I’d be out of place, but I wasn’t! At all! Krystal was so warm and kind and actually excited to meet me. Krystal’s one of those people who attracts people just like her too– her family was warm and kind, her friends were warm and kind, everyone there was just welcoming and happy and all around good to an overwhelming degree.
In my warped mind I kept thinking… but, she’s pretty!! how can this be? and yet it was, and my warped mind was w-r-o-n-g wrong. My second track tries to get it’s punches in every time I am going to see Krystal again, but when she gets out of her truck, smiles big, gives me a hug, squats down to pet my overly-excited pup and then gets excited that Curly still pees for her (Krystal is literally the only person who still gets excited pee from Curls, quite the compliment), I’m instantly at ease.
I don’t have any babies, but Krystal trusts me with hers. My dog is a maniac, but Krystal loves on her anyway. I’m not an exciting person, but Krystal is content to chill on the couch and watch movies. I make a lot of Harry Potter jokes, but Krystal always laughs at them. I tell Krystal a story about eating an entire can of Pringles, and Krystal tells me that not only did she eat an entire can of Pringles, but she did it laying down and got so many crumbs all over her chest that her husband threatened to take pictures.
The best part is that Krystal does all of this even though she’s seen me at my worst. I remember going to their house in GB one time when I was in the midst of a pretty deep depressive episode. I could barely force a smile and I was horrible, horrible company the whole weekend. Another time I had a migraine like you wouldn’t believe and all I wanted to do was lay down on a cold pillow in the quiet dark and pop a couple Excedrin every couple hours. They took me to the drugstore for Excedrin (sweet relief!) and made sure we had enough puppy chow (mmmmm… puppy chow…) to get through the weekend. (I really, really like puppy chow.)
It’s true that things don’t always work out as you’d hope, but trying is always worth it because it just might. My sister-friend* Melissa told me one time that while she’d prefer never to see me hurt, she would always prefer that I get hurt for trying rather than for not. (And FYI, she told me this on a phone call from the freaking Ritz-Carlton Laguna Beach while she was celebrating her birthday with her husband. Taking the time out to call me– crazy woman, and crazy good friend!!!!) Even though it’s scary and the prospect of not being well-received is difficult, it’s worth it for those instances in which you befriend a Krystal or make someone’s day with doughnut holes.
*On vacation, Melissa and I automatically become sister-wives and it’s awesome. Our husbands joke then that they are brother-husbands, but that’s ridiculous and doesn’t make any sense (obvs). We are sister-wives in that we cook together and hang out together and take care of the (Melissa’s) kids together… and all those things are more fun because of it. It’s so awesome! I’m pretty sure I would not dig the polygamy aspect of sister-wifery,** but the companionship part? Totally!
**Pronounced WHIFF-ery, not WIFE-ery… like the brothers Deslaurier on The Mindy Project.
Holy crap! This is post number 100! I wanted to make it a big deal, but it just kind of snuck up on me. I logged on to blog about my felix felicis kind of day and saw this:
99 total posts (and 779 comments– thanks, friends! I love, love, love when people respond to what I write!) and today’s makes 100. (PS: yes, I changed my dashboard to purple. It makes me ridiculously happy.)
And that’s pretty much just the kind of day it’s been. The things that were supposed to happen– they did.
The weather here in Wisconsin is a super crappy mess of snow and ice and cold and I thought our office could use a little pick-me-up first thing in the am. Stopping at Festival Foods on my way to work for donuts, I noticed a cart full of steeply discounted Valentine’s Day candy. Reduced for quick sale! Seriously? I mean, V-day was only a week ago! I’ll take it!
Don’t mind if I do, kind cart! I grabbed a bag of each type available. Delish! And necessary… our candy drawer was getting quite low.
Then on to the donuts. I found some delicious looking donut holes– sugar and cinnamon sugar (mmmm…) so I picked those up and headed back out into the cold and to the Clinic for work.
I pulled into my parking spot and as I was putting on my hat and mittens, that super nice security man who has given me a couple rides to the building during this awful winter stopped right in front of my truck and offered me a ride. I was so glad it was today, of all days, on the day I had donuts. Last week, on Valentine’s Day, I brought him a little baggie of chocolates, but didn’t see him– dang! But this morning, I was able to offer him donuts! Even better! We chatted, he popped donut holes, and then I left him a couple for the road. Perfect!
Plus, like I said, the weather was miiiiiiserable this morning, so I was very appreciative of the lift!
Little things, but perfect timing… everything just worked out. And felix felicis immediately came to mind.
Felix felicis, aka liquid luck, is the potion Harry Potter won on his first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts under Professor Horace Slughorn. The drinker can basically do no wrong… and when Harry used it, everything went exactly as it needed to go.
Apparently, chai tea with vanilla almond milk was my felix this morning.
Harry imbibed and he made it to Aragog’s funeral to support his friend Hagrid despite restrictions for leaving the castle and tempted Slughorn to go with him by promising him a rare venom, managed to cast non-verbal spells to get him drunk, and extracted the memory he needed.
I imbibed and got a great deal on candy, a ride into work, and a chance to thank the security guard with some donuts.
You can see how this is pretty much exactly the same… yes?
That’s what I thought.
Anyway, thanks so much for hanging around for the first hundred– I’m looking very much forward to hundreds and hundreds more! Have a lovely weekend!!
For more information on felix felicis, please refer to the super sweet Harry Potter Wiki! (There’s one for the Muppets, too! Oh Wiki, how I love you!)
