by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 30, 2009 . 7:24PM
Look, I consider myself a benevolent person and I truly want to find cures to the awful, terrible diseases we have in life. However, as I read this article in which a woman expresses breast milk in the hopes of saving her father from cancer, I struggled to gain understanding in this situation.
Let me sum up the article for you. Dad gets sick with cancer. Grown daughter gives birth and decides HEY! Boob milk is full of immune boosting antioxidants that my dad should be drinking that will help him fight cancer. Dad agrees and drinks boob milk every day.
And, wait for it, he puts it on his cornflakes in the morning.
I want to believe I’m open-minded to unconventional treatments, but this feels overwhelming to me. This story ends on a hopeful note:
Hope at last
A month after starting the regimen, a scan of Tim’s cancer showed a slight, but distinct, improvement. Although doctors can’t say whether the breastmilk’s helped, Georgia says he’s brighter and has more energy.
She has promised to continue feeding Tim for as long as she can. ‘He has been having chemo as well as drinking the milk so there’s no way of really finding out if it is helping,’ Georgia explains. ‘I’m still feeding Monty so I feed him first, then I fill a bag for my dad. We’ll continue as long as I am breastfeeding.
‘It feels like I’m doing the most natural thing for the people I love. ‘I’ve been there when he has drunk it and it’s just not an issue. ‘Not many women can say their dad drinks their breastmilk. But I would do anything to give my dad more time with me, our family and Monty.’
And I am still processing it. If it were someone I loved, would I be ok with it? If it gave them a chance? What do you think?
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 29, 2009 . 9:29PM
When AJ was little, and by little I mean 2 or 3 years old, I was into makeup. And by into makeup, you could clearly say it was an addiction. I had a tacklebox the size of a 4 shoeboxes stacked together. It was a green and creme Plano box whose loss I mourn daily. I still enjoy my cosmetics, but not to the extent I did then.
At whatever time of day I would have to get ready to go, I would lug out my Plano box and choose the daily colors. If I didn’t have to go out, I would sit in front of the tv with a mirror and play dress up with my girlie-metics. AJ loved to watch me put on my face and would often sit behind me and view me in my mirror.
He would come up behind me, hug me with his chubby little arms and grin at me in the mirror and tell me I was “bootiful.” One day, however, he was looking at me with a particularly tender smile and he said, “Aw, mama, we’re friends.” From that day on, when I did my makeup, he would come behind me, hug me, look at us in the mirror and say “we’re friends.”
As he’s grown, there are times he continues to reaffirm not only his love for me as a mother, but his genuine feeling that I listen to him and take care of him as a friend. This does not mean that I am not in charge or that I’m a permissive parent. I’m an authoritative parent with equal parts strict and loving. What I hear from him, however, is that my boundaries provide security and love and that my being his parent doesn’t effect how he feels about our friendship. This flies in the face of all of those parents that feel like they have to be permissive for their children to love them more. 
Yes, AJ. We’re friends. I hope you will remember that when you become a teenager and hate me for all the times I reinforce your security and safety. I hope you remember it when I keep you away from the people I know aren’t good for you. I hope you remember it when you want to go on trips that lack structure and put holes in your body and dye your hair (hey, feel free if you want to pay for it). When you are an adult, freedom is yours and I’ll still be your mom and, yes, AJ, we’ll still be friends. Hopefully.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 28, 2009 . 2:20AM
The older I get, the more I find myself being stingy about spending my money on fees that I think are stupid. Unless you can tell me how the fee is 100% necessary, I think you should foot the bill for your own operating costs and suck it up. This applies to the nickels and dimes I get charged on my phone bill, electricity, internet and misc other bills every month.
This has led to almost a fanatic obsession with the online website The Consumerist. It not only informs me of anything shady that is going down, it gives me a healthy dose of anger and “holding the man down” mentality. I like it.
I was looking for a nice anger rush when I saw this post. It includes this quote:
Speaking to analysts during US Airways Group Inc.’s earnings call last week, president Scott Kirby said that airline clearly has made a lot of money by charging for checked bags.
But that doesn’t mean that Southwest isn’t benefiting from not charging the fees, he said.
“It’s possible that Southwest receives a very small market share from a number of carriers,” Kirby said.
Yep, that did it.
I don’t fly often, but I’m fixin’ to start. For those of you that don’t live in the South, that means I’m preparing myself to begin. I have to attend several conferences in the next year and this will require copious amounts of travel. I pack fairly light, but I know for sure that I am absolutely not paying for my bags. I’m just not. I already pay far too much for the convenience of going places and then get “fee’d” out the wazoo.
So, what I’m telling US Airways and all those other punks who think they are getting my cash and can charge me extra for stuff that they should be providing as part of what I’m already paying for: Forget it. I’ll take my business elsewhere and I’m not the only one. I will drive before I’ll pay you my money because I think that business ethics count. Some things are just the cost of doing business.
In the South, people say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And, Honey, you sure did miss the point.
Home
Life is like a game. We all have challenges, thoughts, opinions and beliefs. Often, it feels like something out there, life, karma, catty people, or blue shells (for the Kart lovers), seeks to bring us down. Luckily, we always get up. This is where I wear my heart on my sleeve and my foot in my mouth.
