March 3, 2016 · 4:10 pm

In Sickness And In Health

 

 

With Christmas come and gone, I wonder how many of us can remember what we were doing the morning of December 24th. I imagine most of you, like myself, were in the throes of Christmas plans. Lauren Chase was, too. She was excited for a trip to Florida to celebrate the holidays with family. She was excited to shed the coat, gloves, scarf, boots and gray skies of a Chicago winter and swap them for shorts, flip-flops and sunshine. And she was excited to see her husband, David, who was en-route to the Sunshine State to meet them. What no one planned for was an emergency crash landing of the small aircraft carrying Lauren, her mother-in-law, father-in-law and sister-in-law. What no one planned for was Lauren’s devastating injuries, needing to be air-lifted to a hospital in Memphis, undergoing surgery to relieve swelling in her brain and the coma that she has been trapped in since that fateful morning. Lauren and David are very close friends of my son, Mike and his wife, Laura. This is Lauren’s story.

The last ten weeks have been filled with multiple surgeries and tests, MRIs, tubes and ventilators and a terrifying night when Lauren suffered a cardiac arrest and needed to be revived. The last ten weeks have also been filled with prayers. Thousands and thousands of prayers. From the start, doctors had regularly reported grim news to David, only to be proven wrong time and time again, as Lauren refused to give up her fight. Her medical team of specialists have been at a loss to explain Lauren’s progress. With Lauren’s refusal to give up, David has also refused to accept their prognoses and has been at her side day and night, talking to her and gently caressing her. And kissing her. Mike and Laura recently took a road trip to Memphis to visit Lauren and reported back that David absolutely smothered her in kisses the entire time they were there. His devotion to her is visceral. Though she still has not awakened from her “nap” as it has been sweetly referred to by family, she is slowly transitioning into lighter stages and is able to blink her eyes and give a “Thumbs Up” on command. We are quite sure the affection with which her husband showers Lauren is giving her the strength to keep fighting, which in turn, fuels David to remain her super-hero advocate. Mike and Laura certainly witnessed his super-human strength during their visit.

People talk about love so casually. Love is easy when times are good. The real test comes when times aren’t so easy. But, real, true love – the kind that’s not so pretty – is an awesome thing to witness, as Mike and Laura can attest. Almost two months to the day prior to the accident, Lauren selflessly donated a kidney to her twin sister. And now she is fighting for her life.

I have included a link to Lauren’s most recent update. Please check it out and keep them in your prayers. Despite the original formidable reports, or maybe in spite of them, she continues to grow stronger and will be entering a rehab facility in Atlanta soon. While monetary contributions to offset their staggering medical bills is appreciated, what the family is asking for more than anything are your prayers. And that doesn’t cost anything.  David and Lauren are inspiring people of faith and know that nothing is impossible with God.

UPDATE: A lot has happened since this post was written three months ago. Lauren was able to be moved to Sheperd Rehabilitation in Atlanta and made amazing progress pretty much right away. She had reached a wakeful state and even began communicating – not verbally, but with YES/NO buttons, to which she answered all questions correctly – even about events that happened in her presence while she was still in a comatose state!! This news filled us all with wonderful hope. However, almost as quickly as she seemed to be improving, her health took a rapid decline and Lauren and was placed in ICU at a different hospital. She is still fighting hard but has suffered setbacks, delaying any rehab therapy. The goal right now is to simply stabilize her. David is hoping to get Lauren accepted into the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago, the absolute best rehab facility in the world. Mike and Laura are hopeful to have their friends back in Chicago. And Lauren will be so happy, when she awakens, to learn that she managed to miss a Chicago winter, the only thing about Chicago this Southern girl was not fond of! So, again, I ask for your prayers for Lauren, David, her team of doctors and that RIC will accept Lauren.

UPDATE II: Well, Lauren will not be returning to Chicago, much to the (admittedly selfish) disappointment of Mike and Laura. While they desperately miss their friends, they nevertheless are thankful that Lauren has been accepted into TIRR Memorial Hermann Rehabilitation Facility in Houston. And though Houston seems far from Chicago, God’s hand in this is impossible to ignore as Houston is home to Lauren’s twin sister. Yes, the same sister to whom Lauren lovingly donated a kidney only weeks before she found herself fighting for her own life. 

So, we are grateful that God has lead Lauren to where she needs to be and continue to pray for the team who will work to strengthen her body, for David, that he remains strong and faithful and most importantly, for Lauren’s full recovery. And that we always keep in mind that God works in Kairos – God’s time, not ours. 

 www.youcaring.com/lauren-chase-493783/update/485188 

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February 25, 2016 · 11:21 am

Confessions Of A Seventh Grade Nothing

THE GLORY DAYS

I was recently asked what job I dreamed of having as a kid and wasn’t really sure how to answer because I don’t ever remember dreaming about being a particular “thing.” But as I thought more about it, I guess I could say I thought about being a teacher. Not because I had any great desire to teach or an over-abundant love for children. Nor did I entertain any grandiose fantasies of my future self, making a profound difference in a kid’s life or presenting myself as an unsung hero, inspiring young minds to seize the day. No. My adolescent brain entertained thoughts of a teaching career while sitting in my seventh-grade classroom, hoping and praying that the teacher would not utter the words that I knew were inevitable… “Pick a partner and…” It didn’t matter how that sentence ended because those first words, the words I dreaded, would simply paralyze my twelve-year-old brain.

I was the new kid at Queen of Martyrs school on Chicago’s south side. The path which led little brother Paul and me there was a bit circuitous but was the result of a hasty move from our old, comfortable neighborhood to a new and completely foreign world.  No longer was I accepted simply by virtue of my last name. I was a legacy at my old school, having had five older siblings pave the way. Everyone knew us. I was the mascot of our grammar school football team; my eighth-grade sister, the captain of the cheerleaders. Life was good.

That all changed when we transferred schools and I came to the brutal realization that I had nothing going for me. Suddenly, I was a gangly, stringy-haired, self-conscious, nerdy introvert in desperate need of a friend, but sadly lacking one. Oh, did I mention I wore glasses and a retainer? I wasn’t cool. I was the most uncool kid you could imagine. A few kind souls reached out to me, a welcome I happily accepted. My brother didn’t suffer as much, having found his niche as a star of the fifth-grade football team. Soon, his reputation garnered a little respect for me and I was able to bask in his shadow.

But his benevolent umbrella couldn’t help me when I was stricken with the inevitable directive to find a partner. The worst were days when my possible partner was absent. My heart would go into absolute panic-mode as I’d scan the classroom, silently beseeching someone – anyone – to notice me and offer to partner-up.

Those were the times when I fantasized about becoming a teacher. As a teacher, I would NEVER, EVER direct my students to “find a partner” or allow them to arrange their desks as they wanted – an activity that would send the other kids into fits of joy. No, I swore that would never happen on my watch.

Well, fast-forward four decades and I never did become a teacher, which is probably a good thing. But, to those teachers who may find themselves reading this, I now beseech you to always consider the outcasts when addressing your classroom. That is one way you can leave a lasting impression on those kids. The smallest acts of kindness will always be remembered, as will the hurtful moments of isolation, which manage to plant themselves deeply into one’s psyche.

I suppose the silver-lining of that experience is that I was able to draw upon those memories to teach my own kids to notice the outsider on the playground and be that kid’s friend. Because he’s the kid who needs a friend. So I guess I did become a teacher after all. Class dismissed.   🙂

 

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February 2, 2016 · 9:16 am

My Answer To The Burning Question Of WHY??

ST PAT SCHOOL PIC

Catholic Schools Week has arrived!! When my kids were little, that meant a much anticipated week filled with fun activities, assemblies, games and contests. And of course, themed days like crazy hair day, pajama day, favorite sports team day and just about any other thing you can think up, all the while learning even more about their Catholic faith. To them, though, this week was simply known as Spirit Week.

They have since grown up, with my youngest now wrapping up her third year in college. No more Catholic Schools Week for them – not since they attended the University of Iowa and for the first time in their lives, went to (GASP!!) public school. Of course, in college, every day is crazy hair day, pajama day or favorite sports team day.

I was reminded of Catholic Schools Week on Facebook yesterday as one of my FB friends shared a link to an article (which I am also passing along) entitled: Why My Kids Go To Catholic School. Over the years, I have been asked that question many, many times. And each time, I’ve answered it as simply and honestly as I could. That, while there is no question an excellent education can be had at our local public schools (and quite honestly, the programs and facilities in those schools would have been immensely helpful for my fine-arts offspring), my husband and I chose Catholic schools for our four children because they could offer the one thing that the public schools could not: a Catholic, faith-filled environment. Period. Not because we thought we were better than anyone else, as some seem to believe. Being immersed in their faith and beginning not just each day, but each class with a prayer was important enough for us to make the financial sacrifice to send four kids to twelve years of Catholic schooling. Let me tell you, that’s a lot of tuition. I keep telling them that they’ll thank us for it someday…

Some people also mistakenly believe that we must have a lot of money to make the Catholic School choice. And to them, I say, we are totally broke precisely because we paid that tuition for all those years.

The high school my three sons attended was an all-boy, Benedictine academy with an Army JROTC program. When my son, Brian, once described his school as “an all boy, Catholic military school,” the response was, “Wow, that’s a lot of discipline!” And it was. But, I remember a story a Senior Theology teacher liked to share with families new to the school which showed a different side. Before each class, his students would say a prayer, followed by any requested personal intentions. Every day, one student would simply raise his hand and request a prayer “for his mother.” After a couple weeks, the teacher said, “Joe, every day you ask us to say a prayer for your mother. If you feel comfortable, could you tell us why?” He quietly answered, “My mom has cancer and I’m afraid she’s going to die.” The class was silent for a moment, until one boy stood, walked over to Joe and hugged him. Each boy then did the same thing until every one of them had embraced their classmate. From that day forward, during intentions, a different student would raise his hand and say, “For Joe’s mom.”

I love that story because people would never think, in such a macho kind of environment, that these young men would feel safe enough to allow themselves to be so vulnerable without the fear of ridicule. Instead, they were connected through prayer and community.

And THAT’S why we sent our kids to Catholic schools. Oh, and also because uniforms make life so much easier in the morning. 🙂

Why My Kids Go To Catholic School

 

 

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November 6, 2015 · 10:26 am

Never Say Never…Or How I Came To Celebrate my Daughter’s Birthday

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“Your next one will be a girl.” I laughed and said, “I’m not brave enough to take that chance!” After all, that prediction was uttered by a superstitious woman from the old country, after studying the swirl of hair on my infant son’s head. Based on the direction of the swirl, she was quite confident in her assertion. I was most definitely going to have another child and it would most definitely be female. Based on the fact that I was holding my third son in my arms, I was quite confident that she was a certified loony. For one thing, another child was the furthest thing from my mind. I mean little Petey was only six months old. And, ummm….a girl?? Yeah, pretty sure that wasn’t gonna happen. I mean, I had boys. I was used to boys. I was a “boy mom”. Though there was a female presence in my family growing up (I did have a mother and a sister, after all), the male presence was far more overpowering – a dad and five brothers. I was a tomboy as a kid. Boys never intimidated me. I kind of knew how they worked. But a girl?? That was outside my comfort zone. Yes, I know I am a girl, but I was never really into girly things. I’d be a terrible girl mom. Of that I was sure.

So, that said…today my husband, my three sons and I celebrate my daughter’s twenty-second birthday. That’s right. Two and a half years after that fateful prediction, we welcomed little Mary Kathryn into the family. A few months before she made her grand entrance into the world (and before ultrasounds were routine procedures) a co-worker in my office casually asked to see my hands. Not sure of her reason for the strange request, I held out both hands for her to view. “You’re going to have a girl,” she announced. Wait. What? Yes, because I held my hands out palms down, she was able to determine that a pink bundle was on its way. Laughing it off, I later told my oldest son, Mike, about the prediction of a little sister. He was beside himself. “You did WHAT? How could you?” The sound of horror in his voice made me think that maybe I shouldn’t have been so reckless in my hand display. What madness had I unleashed?

I reassured him that silly superstitions were just that – silly and meaningless. But, I have to admit, I wasn’t so sure when, on November 6, 1994, after a relatively quick labor, the doctor announced, “We gotta girl!” Yikes. I tried to do all the things moms of girls do. I can remember trying to fix her hair in super cute ways before school (well, they were super cute in my head, anyway) but never achieving the desired look and ending with a slapped together ponytail and an apology, “I’m sorry Mary Kate. I’m not a very good girl mom.” And she’d try to soothe my failure with, “That’s okay” as she’d head through the school doors.

So, while it’s true that I might have been lacking in girl skills, she can’t deny that I equipped her with more important life skills at a young age, like when she was desperate to quit the rockestra band at school but wasn’t sure how because the band teacher simply would not allow it. She tried to explain to him that she was not quitting the whole band and that she had every intention of continuing band in high school. She has even gone on to pursue her Bachelor of Music degree in college, and is in her year senior year as a percussion performance major at the University of Iowa. But he would have none of it. I understood where he was coming from. You hate to allow a young kid to quit things when the going gets tough. Especially something like music, which is always hard, but important to keep at it if even a spark of talent shines through. But, quite honestly, after fourteen years with kids in the band, I was okay with her letting go of this particular commitment. She was desperate to find a solution. So, I told her after careful consideration, there was only one logical way this was gonna happen. She would have to fake her own death. “I can do that,” she confidently assured me.

Twenty-two years of having a girl and I still don’t think I’m a very good girl mom. We bond over trashy reality TV, terribly acted Lifetime Movies and true murder shows. She now knows what NOT to do to pull off the perfect murder. But, I think we both agree that being a little edgy is a heck of a lot more fun than getting the pigtails right. This is what she tweeted for MotherYOU TRIED

And our exchange on Facebook in response to that tweet:

Mary Kate Naughton: looooove yooouuuu 🙂

Marilyn Toner Naughton: Ahhhh, ain’t love grand?
Mary Kate Naughton: to be fair, you responded with “I hate you”
Yeah, I’d say we have a pretty awesome mother-daughter thing going on. Happy Birthday Mary Kate!! And ya know what? I’m glad Peter’s hair swirled just the right way and I held my hands out palms down.  🙂

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October 1, 2015 · 7:02 pm

B-A-T-A-W-A-GA-MA…My Devious Plan Gone Awry…

Batawagama signI have recently become aware of deeply buried memories. Memories that I thought I had successfully erased from my brain. But, the same brain that cannot remember where my glasses were set down minutes before managed to dredge up recollections from many years ago. Painful memories. Memories of forcibly being made to do things I did not want to do. Yes, that’s right. Memories of summer camp. And I have Facebook to thank for this.

What set these flashbacks hurtling past other deeply hidden memories from storage was my recently added friends on Facebook. Actually, they’re more than friends. They’re long-lost cousins with whom I was thrilled to re-connect. We were not as close to my dad’s side of the family because of distance and age difference. My dad was the baby in his family, with his oldest sister almost twenty years his senior. His siblings were married with children when he was still a kid, making his nieces and nephews (my cousins) only a few years younger than him. My cousins’ kids were my age. Follow me so far? But, distance also separated us as several of the family were located in the beautiful states of Wisconsin and Michigan. Upper Peninsula Michigan, to be exact. And that’s an important distinction. Kind of like trying to tell someone from Sicily that they’re from Italy. No they’re not. They’re from Sicily. They are Sicilian. It’s different.
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August 19, 2015 · 8:35 am

Summer, We Hardly Knew Ya

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

Well, it’s official. Summer bliss has ended. Well, at least the fantasy of summer bliss, which is probably the reason I’m extra depressed. Summer is over and there is NO question that we got a bum deal this year. The months of June and July were cold and rainy almost every day. Then came the oppressive heat. And suddenly, today is the first day of school for kids around here. SCHOOL PEOPLE!!! All we have left now to look forward to and keep spirits up is maybe two weeks of beautiful fall. That is, maybe fourteen days of crisp air, blue skies, and the intoxicating aroma of burning leaves all warmly engulfed in glorious autumn colors. But not fourteen consecutive days. Let’s not get crazy here. I might even be overly generous with that number. The fall offers a wonderful reprieve from the blistering heat and ungodly humidity of summer. But it is fleeting. I’ve learned to live in the moment on those magnificent days because those of us in the Midwest know what lies ahead… Cold darkness lasting about nine months. Yeah, that’s right. I’m not a winter person. I hate winter. I hate being cold. I hate driving in snow. I hate worrying about my kids driving in snowstorms. I hate shoveling snow. I know all you out-doorsy types are probably scoffing at me as you read this. You know who you are. All you snow-mobilers, cross-country skiers, and tobogganors. All you people who go on and on about how beautiful the snow is. Okay, I’ll concede that. After a storm, the pristine snow that blankets the ground and trees is gorgeous. But, that’s only if it happens on a weekend when we don’t have to actually be somewhere. When we don’t have to get the shovels out. And, let’s be honest. It’s only beautiful until the first car drives on the street. Then it quickly turns into dirty, slushy ick. Last March (yes…MARCH – when we dare to entertain thoughts of spring) my daughter tweeted: “If anyone throws a snowball at me, I will murder them”   That’s right, the shine of winter had definitely worn off by March. Continue reading →

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July 2, 2015 · 8:08 am

How To Get Stinkin’ Rich By Being Really, Really Stupid…

 

GANGSTA MONEY PIC

The Stella Awards have come and gone and I’ll bet you didn’t even know it. Okay, I didn’t know about it either. Turns out, the Stella Awards recognize the marriage between supreme stupidity and our judicial system. They are named after Stella Liebeck, the eighty-one year old woman who successfully sued McDonald’s after spilling hot coffee on herself. We all remember that moment in lawsuit history.

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May 25, 2015 · 4:02 pm

What Goes Up…

 

ELEVATOR

 

Today, I am so excited to share with you my son, Brian’s, super-exciting project. As many of you already know, Brian is nearing the end of his Master’s Degree program in Cinema Directing at DePaul University. DePaul’s Cinema program has skyrocketed  in national rankings of film schools and is regularly ranked one of the top schools in the nation. Not bad for a program that is less than ten years old. The city of Chicago has become a film-set mecca and the huge Cinescape Soundstage is ground zero for most Chicago-based film and television productions.

As his final class project, Brian is directing a short film entitled, What Goes Up. It is a dark, atmospheric look at how one man’s choices in life affect his final moments. Brian is very proud of this film and made a decision to treat it as a serious, independent film, rather than just a class project. This decision has been as terrifying for him as it has been exhilarating because of the risks he is taking to make his concept a reality. He told me that when others heard his idea, they thought his vision would be impossible for a student to capture onscreen. Among other obstacles, it required outdoor filming on a rooftop with a gun, which, in turn required insurance, a permit, and Chicago police presence. He also needed to figure out how to create an elevator for a major part of the film. Brian was fortunate enough to find a Producer and Director of Photography who believed in his vision and made the impossible possible. They were able to rent the elevator set from the set of “Chicago PD” at Cinescape Soundstage. The finished product will be entered in film festivals from coast to coast and promises to be fantastic. And creepy. I am confident it will receive a lot of well-deserved recognition.

When this film is completed, What Goes Up, will represent the  physical embodiment of what started out as a simple idea he and a fellow student had when they put the pen to paper almost a year ago. This is what dreams are all about and you, dear readers, have the power to help this dream happen. I am calling out to my readers to check out Brian’s Kickstarter page and think about donating to his campaign. Even a donation as small as $5 is an option, and one he would be thrilled to receive. The following is his public appeal:

“We’ve been lucky enough to gain access to several beautiful filming locations, as well as find a talented and experienced crew. A film doesn’t come without its costs, so it’d be greatly appreciated if you would donate to our kick-starter campaign and help us cover rental, food, production design, and transportation costs. Please like and share this with your friends! Thank you!”

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/320657146/what-goes-up

And remember…

All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.  – Walt Disney

A dream doesn’t become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work.  – Colin Powell

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. – Eleanor Roosevelt

 

 

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May 10, 2015 · 8:19 am

The Fast Track To Becoming Mom’s Favorite Kid

Living The Dream Book CoverLooking for a fast, easy gift for Mom that will bring a smile to her face? How ’bout the gift of reading about other harried mothers and the craziness of family life in general? Believe me, every mother wants reassurance that she is not navigating the looney waters of parenthood alone. Yes, there ARE others who feel her pain and laugh their way through it. For a mere $2.99, you can give her just that. And she’ll love you for it. Probably even more than your siblings…

Just a simple click on this link & you’re almost there. The book is downloadable on Kindle or ANY device with the FREE Kindle app. It seriously could not be any easier. So, get moving already. Click on the link and be prepared to move up the favorite child ladder. You’re welcome. 🙂

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May 9, 2015 · 6:38 pm

Mistaeks Happen…

BIG BROTHER SUPER HERO 2What perfect timing. In my almost twenty-nine years of mothering, I have joked more times than I can count about the role my children have played in my financial and emotional  ruin. Without kids, I’m sure I would have been a millionaire several times over by now. That was the plan, after all. I would have been living a life of ease, free from the stress of homework, finals, report cards, working concessions, fighting over practicing the piano, keeping track of schedules for football, track, baseball, basketball, volleyball, various summer camps, drum lessons, dreaded piano lessons, school plays, ACTs, college applications, the constant need for hair color, etc, etc. I can actually feel a headache coming on as I stroll down memory lane. But, of course the truth is that, as I’ve also said (maybe not as many times, admittedly), my kids are the best thing that ever happened to me. Yes, every heartache, every tear, every worry and fear, but also every belly laugh and every moment of beaming pride.

So here’s where the perfect timing comes in. As many of you know, my two youngest, Peter and Mary Kate, are both studying percussion performance in school. Peter paved the way in the Percussion Studio at the University of Iowa, and his little sister happily followed in his footsteps three years later. The one year they were together in Iowa City marked the first time siblings had ever studied and performed together in the studio. The head of the Percussion Department had some hesitation about the possible head-butting, rivalry and competition that could arise as a result of admitting siblings and during her audition, questioned Mary Kate about just how solid the relationship with her brother was. Her response was that they were very close and shared a love for music. Peter was her role model. He has since gone on to pursue his Master’s Degree in Percussion Performance at the University of Tennessee, but returned to Iowa City this weekend to perform in the Last Chance Percussion Ensemble Concert (so named because it is the last chance music students have to earn concert attendance credit before the end of the semester). This final concert of the year is open to interested alumni of the studio to perform alongside current members, including You-Know-Who (Baby Sister).

I texted Mary Kate last night to ask how the concert had gone and the following was our exchange that took place:

MK: I just played really bad at Last Chance. It took all my willpower not to cry afterwards. It was really only one mistake, but it was super noticeable and I was especially upset because I wanted to play well for Peter.

ME: Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry 😦  Did anyone say anything about it? Maybe it wasn’t really that bad.

MK: Everyone just said good job. I talked to Ben (her TA) and he said it was only one mistake and the rest was really good. He said I shouldn’t be upset. Pete thought it sounded good, so that makes me happy.

I then texted Peter to let him know how much his presence and kind words meant to her and this was our exchange:

PETE: Honestly, she played really well. Mistakes are much more noticeable when you’re the one playing. She shouldn’t get hung up on it. It was a good performance.

ME: Your approval means a lot to her. She wants you to be proud of her.

PETE: I am!! I thought she did a great job. And I saw her recital (which had been streamed live, two weeks ago) and she was awesome!

I thought Mary Kate’s desire to perform well for her brother was so sweet and his response that he is proud of her, even better. Both conversations were great, but ya know what the best part was? Peter’s response that it was just a mistake and usually the mistake is only noticeable to the one making it. And most importantly…that she shouldn’t get hung up on it. I mean…right??? A great piece of advice for us all.

So, nodding off to sleep last night, I felt pretty good. Life throws a heck of a lot of curve-balls your way. Things often don’t go as planned (my life as a millionaire, for example). But we can’t get hung up on it. You pick up where you left off and move on, and maybe no one will notice the mistakes.

Happy Mother’s Day and remember…don’t get hung up on the mistakes – on the ones we make as we muddle through parenting or on the ones our kids are bound to make as they struggle to make their way in life.

PS: The text messages above were edited for punctuation and spelling, in case anyone was wondering…

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