Skip to main content

Better Late Than Never I Always Say

Actually, I really don't say that but it sounded profound yes? No? Hmm OK.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Bet ya knew that though right? Well, I like to point out those types of things. Call me Captain Obvious.

My Grandma Lulu died from this horrid disease in 2003. She was an amazing woman and it saddens me so much that my children will never know her personally. They'll hear the stories we all have from knowing this courageous, strong Norwegian woman. My aunt is a survivor. She was diagnosed almost 1 year ago. She's cancer free and our hopes and prayers, God willing, will keep her that way. My husband's Grandma H is a survivor as well. I just can't see the bad C word (not that one) beating this woman. She kicked it's ass and is doing well now.

All of us know someone who's been touched by this disease. The loss of a loved one, it's tough. We need to find a cure. We HAVE to find a cure. I don't want my daughter growing up with this fear in the back of her head that she could be diagnosed someday with this. No one wants that.
I've never been a big charity supporter in my life. Sad to say, but so true. Then we lost Grandma and that was all it took. I researched the various programs and foundations out there for breast cancer research. I really like Komen For the Cure. I've seen where the money goes, they've always got the latest news on research, they do so much. When we did the Bagging for a Cure in May, I ordered a ton of educational materials from Komen. They were such a big hit at the store. It's really made an impact.

If there's one thing I know is absolute about breast cancer, it's this: We can and we will find a cure. Our daughters and granddaughters will benefit from what we do today. Make a donation. Buy a pink pin, buy pink tomato soup, a pink spatula, whatever. Just do something today that will save all of our girls tomorrow.


Popular posts from this blog

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other

When was the first time that you realized that your home was not like other people’s homes? 

My house has always been different from other houses. I don't think I could narrow it down to a particular time. I recall not having friends stay over. Ever. I always stayed at all my friends' houses and called their moms "Mom".

Not a lot of my friends were only children so to them, I was the odd duck. Believe me, I *was* the odd duck. Just for a myriad of other reasons.

Having a family of my own, I really see the differences in houses. We are more relaxed with some things that would not fly in other houses. It gets loud in our house. Extremely loud. If I stopped them from being loud all the time, I wouldn't get a single thing done. I tend to jump in right away when the kids are arguing because it can, and will, quickly snowball into WWIII and someone (or both) will be crying. We let our son play the Wii, computer or DS for far longer than other parents or even the "…


Please do not ask me to email photos out, I get entirely too many requests for them. These are the ones that I have at home, thanks to a couple of sources.

This Has To Be Said

I haven't blogged in 8 months. We bought a house, still unpacking, school started. You know, life. I felt the need, the urgent need to blog about the Adrian Peterson situation today. I am full of all sorts of feelings and had to write about it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing. No really, I would. I don't feel I was a douchebag in my writing so all I ask is you not be a douchebag in your response. Thanks.

My thoughts on the Adrian Peterson situation (but first, some backstory):
I was spanked as a child. I'm pretty sure most of us that grew up in the 80s were.Until the summer between 5th and 6th grade I lived in Charelston, SC and from 6th to 11th grade, North Chicaco, IL. I have seen every form of discipline doled out on a child. I've seen spankings, beatings, hairbrushes smacked into heads, spoons hitting the tops of heads, whips, belts and even switches. I've seen it all.Most of you know that my son is named after a little boy who died from c…