When I started the blog last summer, I was a stay-at-home mom looking for a way to maintain my sanity through my first summer without a job since I was in high school. That's not as long ago as my friend Jaime likes to think, but it was still a long time ago. The idea was that the kids and I would spend the summer finding fun, memorable ways to spend our days, then I would write about it here... what we did, how we liked it, that sort of thing.
Putting both kids on the school bus last fall certainly cut down on the number of things I've done with the kids, but it didn't put an end to our adventures. While we aren't running around at the same pace we did all summer, we made it to the Lancaster Science Factory, ExpERIEnce Children's Museum, the Academy of Natural Sciences last fall.
I just didn't write about them.
But we're rolling into spring break and that means road trip... and a week or so where I'll head back to the origin of the blog. While not set in stone, I think we'll be off to the Da Vinci Science Center in Allentown, the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia, Port Discovery (a children's museum in Baltimore) and the Maryland Science Center.
It should be a fun trip and I am looking forward to exploring some places we have never been.
And who knows... once I blog about the week, maybe I'll go back and blog about those neglected excursions from last fall.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
THON
Just as Penn Staters came together in late January to say good-bye to Joe Paterno, they will soon come together again to support a cause that was important to him. They will come together--15,000 volunteers, 700 dancers, and countless others cheering in the stands--with the hopes of saying good-bye to childhood cancer. It's one of the things that makes me most proud to be an alumna of this university.
The Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, more commonly known as THON, is a year-long student-run effort to fight pediatric cancer. Monies raised go to support the Four Diamonds Fund at the Penn State Hershey Medical Center.
For those unfamiliar with THON, the capstone event is a 46-hour 'dance' (and I use this term lightly, as it's really anything BUT a dance) taking place on the University Park campus next weekend. The students raise funds throughout the year, from a 5K race on campus that draws thousands of participants to canning weekends, to door-to-door solicitations throughout this community. Thousands work tirelessly to market the event, secure corporate sponsorship and donations, coordinate facilities, and support the dancers during THON weekend.
Though it wasn't really the case when I was an undergraduate here, THON is truly a part of the Penn State experience. Roughly one in three students has some type of involvement with the event.
"When they say 'We are Penn State', this is what they are talking about." - Joe Paterno at THON
THON has become the largest student-run philanthropy in the country and it's something that all Penn Staters can be proud of. Especially at a time where everyone is pointing their fingers at Penn State, constantly rehashing the Sandusky scandal. Over time, the world will see that it's not something like the horrific revelations of last fall that define this university, but it's students selflessly and tirelessly working for a common and most worthwhile cause, working for children and families they've never met. Doing it For The Kids.
I recently saw a statistic that one in five children diagnosed with cancer will die. One in five. When you think about the mortality rate of adult cancers, one in five does not sound bad. There are many cancers for which that sort of mortality rate would be considered a great success. But even one child is one too many. It's why Penn Staters come together each year to work toward a cure.
As an undergraduate, I was a member of the Student Nurses Association of Pennsylvania (SNAP). We learned in the fall of 1992 that our organization would get four spots for dancers in the February 1993 THON event. All we needed to do was raise $480 per couple. That's just $10 for each hour we'd be on our feet (the event used to be a 48-hour one). I assumed my classmates would jump at the opportunity, if for no other reason than the fact that we had done our pediatric clinical rotation in Hershey. We saw these kids, cared for them, watched them in their fight with cancer. It took on a more personal meaning.
While it took a little begging and pleading, I managed to recruit three others to dance with me and the four of us became the first representatives of the student nursing group at THON.
It was a long, sometimes difficult weekend. The exhaustion of standing on your feet for 48 hours is so much greater than anything I have ever experienced, including having two babies in a 15-month span of time. It's one of my best Penn State experiences and I have many great memories.
Here are just a few:
The night before... the Tavern Restaurant opened its doors to all THON dancers with an all-you-can eat pasta night at a really great price. I remember sitting with the other three SNAP dancers talking about all the gory things we'd seen as nursing students. One friend was talking about packing a wound as another wound her fettuccine alfredo around her fork. Without missing a beat, she holds out her fork, covered in that thick, white sauce and says "but was it pussy?"
Location, location, location... THON certainly wasn't the big deal it is now 20 years ago. It was held in a gym in White Building, there were small bleachers which were often packed (especially at 2:00am when the bars closed down), but nothing like the 15,000 who fill the stands of Bryce Jordan Center these days. We made our own banners to be hung on the wall (and we did this while sitting at the Shandygaff on a SLOW Tuesday night while our pal Scott played some great 80s music). Our drunk friends came in to visit each night after the bars closed. Dancers were separated from spectators by that flimsy plastic you see on the side of the road in winter time. As THON grew, it's location changed twice. And while I think the environment of BJC and the enthusiasm of all the students cheering from their seats is fantastic, nothing can top the intimate feel of White Building for me!
Powder slides... there were regularly scheduled bathroom breaks during THON weekend. They'd call us by our dancer numbers, we'd stand in line, do our business and then we'd head back out to the gym floor by running across the floor, sliding onto our bellies, and lining up in a row. Volunteers would massage all the achy parts we had before we were back on our feet again. Believe me when I say toward the end, you ached EVERYWHERE and couldn't care less who was touching you or where.
Line dance... I think the song was Move Every Mountain... something that we were taught movements to in the first couple of hours of THON; it was cued up hourly for the remainder of the weekend and gave us a much needed burst of energy. In all honesty, I like the way the dance is done now much better. A group comes together and writes a 'song' about everything that happened in the world over the past year, continually brings it back to the idea that they are doing it "FTK" or "For the kids", and then adds movements. If you search on Youtube for THON line dances, you can see years past.
Family hour... this is traditionally the last hour of THON and it's the hour when Four Diamonds' families come on stage and share their stories. Many are about kids currently in treatment, about what THON means to them. Some do not end in happily ever after. But every story is beautiful in its own way. They tell stories of hope and gratitude and sometimes heartbreak. I cried through all of them. But hearing them made me feel so good about what I had just done for them.
The final tally... the most anticipated moment of any THON is the moment they share the total amount raised. It's the very last thing they do. One by one they flip over cards showing the dollar amount. $1,336,173.59... only the second time THON raised more than $1 million and it was a record that stood for four years. They raised more than seven times that amount last year.
Going home... when it was all said and done, I'd been awake for roughly 55 straight hours. My first stop when I got back to my apartment was the shower. Only I was too tired to stand, so I sat. And fell asleep there. My roommate made me something to eat and then I crashed. I'd made the mistake of scheduling an all-day nursing conference at 8:00 the next morning. While I managed to get out to the hospital and sit in the lecture room, I nodded off on several times and even apologized to the speaker during a break. Luckily for me, she totally understood.
In 1999, THON moved to Rec Hall and in 2007, the 35th anniversary of THON, it moved to its current home at the Bryce Jordan Center. They've added nearly 200 dancers since the year I danced. And they've quite simply become a fundraising machine. Last year's amount, $9,563,016.09, broke the previous record by roughly $1.5 million and there's every reason to expect that this is the year the event could surpass $10 million. Because the students volunteer their time and talents and solicit donations from local and national businesses, virtually every penny they raise goes directly to the Four Diamonds Fund.
In turn, the fund provides financial assistance to families with a child undergoing treatment for cancer, covering expenses that insurance does not. The fund also supports much needed research to find a cure through the Four Diamonds Pediatric Cancer Research Institute.
For this year's dancers, I would say this... really listen to the families when they talk and pay attention to them as they move around the floor throughout the weekend. They are a great reminder of why you are there and they'll inspire you and give you the strength to continue when you can't imagine how you can possibly stay on your feet another minute.
Wear your most comfortable pair of shoes and change your socks. Often.
And stay in bed Monday morning. Catch up on your sleep. There's no doubt you will have earned it!
The Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, more commonly known as THON, is a year-long student-run effort to fight pediatric cancer. Monies raised go to support the Four Diamonds Fund at the Penn State Hershey Medical Center.
For those unfamiliar with THON, the capstone event is a 46-hour 'dance' (and I use this term lightly, as it's really anything BUT a dance) taking place on the University Park campus next weekend. The students raise funds throughout the year, from a 5K race on campus that draws thousands of participants to canning weekends, to door-to-door solicitations throughout this community. Thousands work tirelessly to market the event, secure corporate sponsorship and donations, coordinate facilities, and support the dancers during THON weekend.
Though it wasn't really the case when I was an undergraduate here, THON is truly a part of the Penn State experience. Roughly one in three students has some type of involvement with the event.
"When they say 'We are Penn State', this is what they are talking about." - Joe Paterno at THON
THON has become the largest student-run philanthropy in the country and it's something that all Penn Staters can be proud of. Especially at a time where everyone is pointing their fingers at Penn State, constantly rehashing the Sandusky scandal. Over time, the world will see that it's not something like the horrific revelations of last fall that define this university, but it's students selflessly and tirelessly working for a common and most worthwhile cause, working for children and families they've never met. Doing it For The Kids.
I recently saw a statistic that one in five children diagnosed with cancer will die. One in five. When you think about the mortality rate of adult cancers, one in five does not sound bad. There are many cancers for which that sort of mortality rate would be considered a great success. But even one child is one too many. It's why Penn Staters come together each year to work toward a cure.
As an undergraduate, I was a member of the Student Nurses Association of Pennsylvania (SNAP). We learned in the fall of 1992 that our organization would get four spots for dancers in the February 1993 THON event. All we needed to do was raise $480 per couple. That's just $10 for each hour we'd be on our feet (the event used to be a 48-hour one). I assumed my classmates would jump at the opportunity, if for no other reason than the fact that we had done our pediatric clinical rotation in Hershey. We saw these kids, cared for them, watched them in their fight with cancer. It took on a more personal meaning.
While it took a little begging and pleading, I managed to recruit three others to dance with me and the four of us became the first representatives of the student nursing group at THON.
It was a long, sometimes difficult weekend. The exhaustion of standing on your feet for 48 hours is so much greater than anything I have ever experienced, including having two babies in a 15-month span of time. It's one of my best Penn State experiences and I have many great memories.
Here are just a few:
The night before... the Tavern Restaurant opened its doors to all THON dancers with an all-you-can eat pasta night at a really great price. I remember sitting with the other three SNAP dancers talking about all the gory things we'd seen as nursing students. One friend was talking about packing a wound as another wound her fettuccine alfredo around her fork. Without missing a beat, she holds out her fork, covered in that thick, white sauce and says "but was it pussy?"
Location, location, location... THON certainly wasn't the big deal it is now 20 years ago. It was held in a gym in White Building, there were small bleachers which were often packed (especially at 2:00am when the bars closed down), but nothing like the 15,000 who fill the stands of Bryce Jordan Center these days. We made our own banners to be hung on the wall (and we did this while sitting at the Shandygaff on a SLOW Tuesday night while our pal Scott played some great 80s music). Our drunk friends came in to visit each night after the bars closed. Dancers were separated from spectators by that flimsy plastic you see on the side of the road in winter time. As THON grew, it's location changed twice. And while I think the environment of BJC and the enthusiasm of all the students cheering from their seats is fantastic, nothing can top the intimate feel of White Building for me!
Powder slides... there were regularly scheduled bathroom breaks during THON weekend. They'd call us by our dancer numbers, we'd stand in line, do our business and then we'd head back out to the gym floor by running across the floor, sliding onto our bellies, and lining up in a row. Volunteers would massage all the achy parts we had before we were back on our feet again. Believe me when I say toward the end, you ached EVERYWHERE and couldn't care less who was touching you or where.
Line dance... I think the song was Move Every Mountain... something that we were taught movements to in the first couple of hours of THON; it was cued up hourly for the remainder of the weekend and gave us a much needed burst of energy. In all honesty, I like the way the dance is done now much better. A group comes together and writes a 'song' about everything that happened in the world over the past year, continually brings it back to the idea that they are doing it "FTK" or "For the kids", and then adds movements. If you search on Youtube for THON line dances, you can see years past.
Family hour... this is traditionally the last hour of THON and it's the hour when Four Diamonds' families come on stage and share their stories. Many are about kids currently in treatment, about what THON means to them. Some do not end in happily ever after. But every story is beautiful in its own way. They tell stories of hope and gratitude and sometimes heartbreak. I cried through all of them. But hearing them made me feel so good about what I had just done for them.
The final tally... the most anticipated moment of any THON is the moment they share the total amount raised. It's the very last thing they do. One by one they flip over cards showing the dollar amount. $1,336,173.59... only the second time THON raised more than $1 million and it was a record that stood for four years. They raised more than seven times that amount last year.
Going home... when it was all said and done, I'd been awake for roughly 55 straight hours. My first stop when I got back to my apartment was the shower. Only I was too tired to stand, so I sat. And fell asleep there. My roommate made me something to eat and then I crashed. I'd made the mistake of scheduling an all-day nursing conference at 8:00 the next morning. While I managed to get out to the hospital and sit in the lecture room, I nodded off on several times and even apologized to the speaker during a break. Luckily for me, she totally understood.
In 1999, THON moved to Rec Hall and in 2007, the 35th anniversary of THON, it moved to its current home at the Bryce Jordan Center. They've added nearly 200 dancers since the year I danced. And they've quite simply become a fundraising machine. Last year's amount, $9,563,016.09, broke the previous record by roughly $1.5 million and there's every reason to expect that this is the year the event could surpass $10 million. Because the students volunteer their time and talents and solicit donations from local and national businesses, virtually every penny they raise goes directly to the Four Diamonds Fund.
In turn, the fund provides financial assistance to families with a child undergoing treatment for cancer, covering expenses that insurance does not. The fund also supports much needed research to find a cure through the Four Diamonds Pediatric Cancer Research Institute.
For this year's dancers, I would say this... really listen to the families when they talk and pay attention to them as they move around the floor throughout the weekend. They are a great reminder of why you are there and they'll inspire you and give you the strength to continue when you can't imagine how you can possibly stay on your feet another minute.
Wear your most comfortable pair of shoes and change your socks. Often.
And stay in bed Monday morning. Catch up on your sleep. There's no doubt you will have earned it!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Resolutions
At year end, everyone inevitability starts to talk about resolutions. It seems there's no better time to plan some positive change in life than at the start of a new year. For as long as I can remember, I've told people that my resolution is to not make resolutions. And for the most part, I've done a pretty good job of sticking with it.
This year, I broke with tradition. I vowed to give up soda (even though I only drink diet). There are plenty of well-known reasons to do this: it's acidic, it can lead to brittle bones, wear down the enamel of teeth, and lead to obesity. It's loaded with caffeine and is likely a direct contributor to my inability to sleep at night. All bad things.
This 'resolution' lasted for just a week or so... I was out to lunch, looking over the menu, when a waitress asked what I wanted to drink. Out of habit, I replied "Diet Pepsi." The resolution was in serious jeopardy.
So I quickly modified the plan. I would only drink soda outside of my house. It's not a perfect plan, but I figured it would be better than nothing.
Well, that didn't last too long either. A week or so later, a friend mentioned something about Dr. Pepper 10. Being a fan of the both the full-calorie and diet versions, it sounded like something I should try... only you can't find it out in a restaurant (at least not yet). When I was at the grocery store, I slipped it into the shopping cart and haven't looked back since.
You see, once you start down the slippery slope of New Year's Resolution compromise... well, it's hard to turn back.
So, what's a girl to do?
Perhaps I should just continue to resolve NOT to make resolutions. If I don't make a promise, I can't break it as easily as I broke this one.
Still, there are changes that I would like to make this year. Only, I won't call them 'resolutions'. They're simply things I hope will be better this year than last.
Some are fairly simple - like running. When I started running almost three years ago, I quickly learned that I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight. That's a huge advantage for a girl who likes ice cream and lives in close proximity to both Meyer's Dairy and the Penn State Creamery (where Ben & Jerry learned to make ice cream way back in 1974).
Outside of good shoes and warm gloves, there are just two things I need to run.
First, I need accountability. That's easiest with a running partner and I've been lucky to find a few good ones over the years. But I don't have someone to run with every day and so I post all of my running activities to Facebook. As long as people know that I run and expect me to go out and do it, I find that I can tie on my shoes and head out even on the days I just don't feel like it.
I also need a goal - something to train for. This year I am looking at several races: the Broad Street Run (May), the always fun, dirty Warrior Dash (June), the Perk Up Half Marathon (August), and the Hershey Half Marathon (October) are on my agenda, with some shorter distances sprinkled throughout the year for good measure. These races will guide my training and dictate the mileage I run each week. But even in my slow months (like now), I'd simply like to get out a little more frequently and cover a little more distance each week.
I mention this not just because I would like to focus more on running this year (though I do want to focus more on my running this year), but because accountability and goals are important to me. They keep me focused.
For as simple as my running goals are, there are others swirling in my mind that are much more complex, less tangible, harder to measure. And that's where I'll put my efforts this year. After all, eliminating diet soda seemed like a great idea, but at the end of the day, it didn't really make me happy... I had headaches. I was cranky. I missed my caffeine fix (so I switched to tea and countless packs of Sweet'N Low).
Over the next few weeks or months, I promise to revisit the topic, to let you know what it is that I need out of the new year and how I am going to get it... goals and accountability. Because once I put it out there, I'll make it happen.
This year, I broke with tradition. I vowed to give up soda (even though I only drink diet). There are plenty of well-known reasons to do this: it's acidic, it can lead to brittle bones, wear down the enamel of teeth, and lead to obesity. It's loaded with caffeine and is likely a direct contributor to my inability to sleep at night. All bad things.
This 'resolution' lasted for just a week or so... I was out to lunch, looking over the menu, when a waitress asked what I wanted to drink. Out of habit, I replied "Diet Pepsi." The resolution was in serious jeopardy.
So I quickly modified the plan. I would only drink soda outside of my house. It's not a perfect plan, but I figured it would be better than nothing.
Well, that didn't last too long either. A week or so later, a friend mentioned something about Dr. Pepper 10. Being a fan of the both the full-calorie and diet versions, it sounded like something I should try... only you can't find it out in a restaurant (at least not yet). When I was at the grocery store, I slipped it into the shopping cart and haven't looked back since.
You see, once you start down the slippery slope of New Year's Resolution compromise... well, it's hard to turn back.
So, what's a girl to do?
Perhaps I should just continue to resolve NOT to make resolutions. If I don't make a promise, I can't break it as easily as I broke this one.
Still, there are changes that I would like to make this year. Only, I won't call them 'resolutions'. They're simply things I hope will be better this year than last.
Some are fairly simple - like running. When I started running almost three years ago, I quickly learned that I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight. That's a huge advantage for a girl who likes ice cream and lives in close proximity to both Meyer's Dairy and the Penn State Creamery (where Ben & Jerry learned to make ice cream way back in 1974).
Outside of good shoes and warm gloves, there are just two things I need to run.
First, I need accountability. That's easiest with a running partner and I've been lucky to find a few good ones over the years. But I don't have someone to run with every day and so I post all of my running activities to Facebook. As long as people know that I run and expect me to go out and do it, I find that I can tie on my shoes and head out even on the days I just don't feel like it.
I also need a goal - something to train for. This year I am looking at several races: the Broad Street Run (May), the always fun, dirty Warrior Dash (June), the Perk Up Half Marathon (August), and the Hershey Half Marathon (October) are on my agenda, with some shorter distances sprinkled throughout the year for good measure. These races will guide my training and dictate the mileage I run each week. But even in my slow months (like now), I'd simply like to get out a little more frequently and cover a little more distance each week.
I mention this not just because I would like to focus more on running this year (though I do want to focus more on my running this year), but because accountability and goals are important to me. They keep me focused.
For as simple as my running goals are, there are others swirling in my mind that are much more complex, less tangible, harder to measure. And that's where I'll put my efforts this year. After all, eliminating diet soda seemed like a great idea, but at the end of the day, it didn't really make me happy... I had headaches. I was cranky. I missed my caffeine fix (so I switched to tea and countless packs of Sweet'N Low).
Over the next few weeks or months, I promise to revisit the topic, to let you know what it is that I need out of the new year and how I am going to get it... goals and accountability. Because once I put it out there, I'll make it happen.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Goodbye, Coach.
I remember watching Joe Paterno's 400th win with my kids back in November 2010. As the final seconds ticked off the clock, I told them to really watch, to remember the moment. I let them know that they were about to witness something special. Something that they'd likely not see again in their lifetime. These days, coaches come and go in college sports, always looking for the bigger payday. The higher profile position.
But not Joe Paterno. He came to Penn State as an assistant coach in 1950 and never left, despite numerous offers to coach in the NFL. As his family said today "his ambitions were far reaching, but he never believed he had to leave this Happy Valley to achieve them."
For forty-six years, he led my beloved Nittany Lions onto the playing field. It seems both ironic and tragic that his 409th victory, the one that secured his place as the winningest head coach in Division I history, came just a week before the scandal that rocked Penn State, that brought the most improbable, unimaginable end to a legendary career.
Joe Paterno became a legend here because he did things the right way. He was a teacher before he was a coach. He made sure that the boys that came to play for him went to class, earned their degrees, became men. I think it was clear though the hundreds of tributes from former players today that they felt they were better husbands, fathers, and leaders because of him and I have no doubt that it is true.
As the scandal unfolded and has continued to endure, I've often thought back to my friend Jessica's blog, When You Know It's Poop, published back in mid-November.
There is no doubt that Joe Paterno is a great man. He is not Jesus. He is not infallible. But he’s better than most of us—and he’s been that way for a long, long time."
When I read through Paterno's Washington Post interview it was with a heavy heart. I imagine it must have been a terrible burden for him to live his final days being judged so harshly by so many. To have a lifetime of achievement and philanthropy disregarded by so many as if it were Paterno himself accused of child molestation.
Many seem to take Paterno's statement that "With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more." as some admission of culpability. I don't. Who among us wouldn't wonder if we could have done more to make a difference? I think it simply makes him human.
I hope with time, people can see that Joe Paterno did or did not do what many of us would have done or not done in similar circumstances. That they'd stop holding him to a higher standard than they'd hold themselves to. I hope that with time, this scandal doesn't define him as deeply as it did in his final days. That his lifetime of good deeds and accomplishments carries the weight it deserves.
Joe Paterno leaves a legacy... to his wife, Sue, he was her soul mate, and together they had five children and 17 grandchildren to whom he was "a shining example of how to live a good, decent and honest life". As I read this in the Paterno family's statement today, I thought that's really all we can hope for in life and for that alone, he was a lucky man.
But, his legacy is also everywhere I looked today. When Coach Paterno came to State College in 1950, Penn State was an agricultural school in the middle of nowhere. And while we are still in the middle of nowhere, he put this town and this college on the map. There were less than 10,000 students here in 1950. Today, there are nearly five times that number at the University Park campus and nearly ten times that number throughout the Commonwealth. We are an internationally known and respected research university.
Beaver Stadium expanded six times during his tenure here, more than doubling in size and currently seating over 106,000. Because of its success, the football program supports many of Penn State's other athletic programs.
Inside the sports museum, there are two national championship trophies.
There is a wing of the library named after Joe Paterno, he and his wife donated to the spiritual center and the soon-to-be completed Suzanne Pohland Paterno Catholic Student Faith Center. He's donated a significant amount of money to the Mount Nittany Medical Center, which is currently undergoing an ambitious expansion. They've also supported countless other local charities.
My community is a much better place because Joe Paterno lived here. This is a part of his legacy.
There's a statue of Joe Paterno that sits in the shadows of Beaver Stadium. I've run past it many times. But it wasn't until today that I really stopped to consider the words that are printed there... a quote from Joe Paterno from more than a decade ago.
"They ask me what I'd like written about me when I'm gone. I hope they write I made Penn State a better place, not just that I was a good football coach."
My wish for you tonight, Coach Paterno, is that you are resting now in peace in the arms of a loving and forgiving God, and that you know, without question, that this school that you loved and dedicated your life to is a better place because of you.
Goodbye, Coach. And thanks for everything.
But not Joe Paterno. He came to Penn State as an assistant coach in 1950 and never left, despite numerous offers to coach in the NFL. As his family said today "his ambitions were far reaching, but he never believed he had to leave this Happy Valley to achieve them."
For forty-six years, he led my beloved Nittany Lions onto the playing field. It seems both ironic and tragic that his 409th victory, the one that secured his place as the winningest head coach in Division I history, came just a week before the scandal that rocked Penn State, that brought the most improbable, unimaginable end to a legendary career.
Joe Paterno became a legend here because he did things the right way. He was a teacher before he was a coach. He made sure that the boys that came to play for him went to class, earned their degrees, became men. I think it was clear though the hundreds of tributes from former players today that they felt they were better husbands, fathers, and leaders because of him and I have no doubt that it is true.
As the scandal unfolded and has continued to endure, I've often thought back to my friend Jessica's blog, When You Know It's Poop, published back in mid-November.
"This, too, is a tragedy, not only for a man who has lived humbly, ethically, and gracefully for most of his many days, but for the rest of us as well... if he can’t offer the world his good deeds and intentions without marring them with shame, who among us can?
When I read through Paterno's Washington Post interview it was with a heavy heart. I imagine it must have been a terrible burden for him to live his final days being judged so harshly by so many. To have a lifetime of achievement and philanthropy disregarded by so many as if it were Paterno himself accused of child molestation.
Many seem to take Paterno's statement that "With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more." as some admission of culpability. I don't. Who among us wouldn't wonder if we could have done more to make a difference? I think it simply makes him human.
I hope with time, people can see that Joe Paterno did or did not do what many of us would have done or not done in similar circumstances. That they'd stop holding him to a higher standard than they'd hold themselves to. I hope that with time, this scandal doesn't define him as deeply as it did in his final days. That his lifetime of good deeds and accomplishments carries the weight it deserves.
Joe Paterno leaves a legacy... to his wife, Sue, he was her soul mate, and together they had five children and 17 grandchildren to whom he was "a shining example of how to live a good, decent and honest life". As I read this in the Paterno family's statement today, I thought that's really all we can hope for in life and for that alone, he was a lucky man.
But, his legacy is also everywhere I looked today. When Coach Paterno came to State College in 1950, Penn State was an agricultural school in the middle of nowhere. And while we are still in the middle of nowhere, he put this town and this college on the map. There were less than 10,000 students here in 1950. Today, there are nearly five times that number at the University Park campus and nearly ten times that number throughout the Commonwealth. We are an internationally known and respected research university.
Beaver Stadium expanded six times during his tenure here, more than doubling in size and currently seating over 106,000. Because of its success, the football program supports many of Penn State's other athletic programs.
Inside the sports museum, there are two national championship trophies.
There is a wing of the library named after Joe Paterno, he and his wife donated to the spiritual center and the soon-to-be completed Suzanne Pohland Paterno Catholic Student Faith Center. He's donated a significant amount of money to the Mount Nittany Medical Center, which is currently undergoing an ambitious expansion. They've also supported countless other local charities.
My community is a much better place because Joe Paterno lived here. This is a part of his legacy.
There's a statue of Joe Paterno that sits in the shadows of Beaver Stadium. I've run past it many times. But it wasn't until today that I really stopped to consider the words that are printed there... a quote from Joe Paterno from more than a decade ago.
"They ask me what I'd like written about me when I'm gone. I hope they write I made Penn State a better place, not just that I was a good football coach."
My wish for you tonight, Coach Paterno, is that you are resting now in peace in the arms of a loving and forgiving God, and that you know, without question, that this school that you loved and dedicated your life to is a better place because of you.
Goodbye, Coach. And thanks for everything.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Happy Birthday, Matt!
Sometimes I sit down to write knowing exactly what it is that I want to say but having no idea how to actually get the words onto the page in a reasonably articulate way. I type, delete, type, delete, over and over again until the words finally start to come.
This is one of those posts.
Tomorrow is Matt's 7th birthday. Seven. (Wow! How did that happen?) His arrival in my life sometimes seems like it was just yesterday and sometimes seems like it was a lifetime ago.
At this time of year, I cannot help but to reflect back on the two years I wanted a child but could not have one. To think about the toll that infertility took on my life and my marriage. To think about how I both joyfully and somewhat sorrowfully watched family and friends so easily do something that I could not do. And I cannot help but remember the spring morning back in 2004, just weeks before I was scheduled for my first IVF cycle, when I knew that my life was going to change, but did not yet understand just how much.
Seven years ago I gave birth to a son: Richard Matthew Cropp, born at 11:29 am, weighing 7 lbs. 3oz.
Within hours of his arrival, I began to learn about the strength and determination of a mother. There were complications with our delivery and Matt was left under an oxygen tent, with an IV of sugar water keeping his blood sugars stable. Wanting to see and hold and nurse my baby, I was out of bed eight hours after his delivery - IV pole and catheter bag and nurse who wanted me to stay put be damned. By the time the doctors made rounds the following morning, I'd been down to the nursery three times to see him.
The seven years since then haven't always been easy. When friends choose not to have children, I totally understand. While I love both my children, there are times I wistfully imagine what life might look like if that whole infertility thing really stuck. If it weren't just a bump in the road or a test to see just how badly I really wanted this whole motherhood thing. I think about all the amazing places I may have traveled to or the really awesome car I might have parked out in the garage or the really fancy shoes that might be sitting in my closet.
Instead, I've spent my money on diapers and overpriced daycare, swimming lessons and soccer seasons, amusement parks and fancy dinners at McDonalds. I've made sacrifices (both big and small) over the years, some of which I am sure the kids can see and some they may never really know about or understand.
I've learned that I have a much larger capacity to love unconditionally than I ever would have though possible before I became a mother.
Matt's at an age now where he is great fun to be with. He's kind and funny and smart and inquisitive. He's adventurous and outgoing. He cheers for all the right sports teams (and the Pittsburgh Steelers) and is becoming a good athlete himself.
A few nights ago, as we were laying in bed talking (my favorite part of our bedtime routine), Matt asked about the local food bank and let me know that he'd like to use part of the WalMart gift card he received for selling Boy Scout popcorn this fall to buy food for the food bank. My heart melted that he'd think selflessly about others even at a young age and I hoped this meant that we were doing something right.
I am lucky to know him and even luckier that he is mine. Without question, my life is better because of him.
Happy birthday, Matt!
This is one of those posts.
Tomorrow is Matt's 7th birthday. Seven. (Wow! How did that happen?) His arrival in my life sometimes seems like it was just yesterday and sometimes seems like it was a lifetime ago.
At this time of year, I cannot help but to reflect back on the two years I wanted a child but could not have one. To think about the toll that infertility took on my life and my marriage. To think about how I both joyfully and somewhat sorrowfully watched family and friends so easily do something that I could not do. And I cannot help but remember the spring morning back in 2004, just weeks before I was scheduled for my first IVF cycle, when I knew that my life was going to change, but did not yet understand just how much.
 |
| January 11, 2005 |
Within hours of his arrival, I began to learn about the strength and determination of a mother. There were complications with our delivery and Matt was left under an oxygen tent, with an IV of sugar water keeping his blood sugars stable. Wanting to see and hold and nurse my baby, I was out of bed eight hours after his delivery - IV pole and catheter bag and nurse who wanted me to stay put be damned. By the time the doctors made rounds the following morning, I'd been down to the nursery three times to see him.
The seven years since then haven't always been easy. When friends choose not to have children, I totally understand. While I love both my children, there are times I wistfully imagine what life might look like if that whole infertility thing really stuck. If it weren't just a bump in the road or a test to see just how badly I really wanted this whole motherhood thing. I think about all the amazing places I may have traveled to or the really awesome car I might have parked out in the garage or the really fancy shoes that might be sitting in my closet.
Instead, I've spent my money on diapers and overpriced daycare, swimming lessons and soccer seasons, amusement parks and fancy dinners at McDonalds. I've made sacrifices (both big and small) over the years, some of which I am sure the kids can see and some they may never really know about or understand.
I've learned that I have a much larger capacity to love unconditionally than I ever would have though possible before I became a mother.
Matt's at an age now where he is great fun to be with. He's kind and funny and smart and inquisitive. He's adventurous and outgoing. He cheers for all the right sports teams (and the Pittsburgh Steelers) and is becoming a good athlete himself.
 |
| December 31, 2011 |
I am lucky to know him and even luckier that he is mine. Without question, my life is better because of him.
Happy birthday, Matt!
Friday, January 6, 2012
A Motherhood Fail. Big Time.
I committed one of the cardinal sins of parenthood...
I held Cathy to a lower standard than I do Matt. I simply dismissed her inability to color inside the lines, to neatly print her letters and numbers on a line or inside a box as a side effect of her history. Of the mild, yet pervasive developmental delays of her childhood.
Not once did it occur to me that it could be something, anything else. And for that I am ashamed.
I received a call from the school nurse in mid-December letting me know that Cathy had failed both her routine vision and hearing exams. As is the case with many kindergarten kids, it wasn't clear how much of the result was a lack of understanding for what was expected of her versus an actual problem with her vision or hearing. We were asked to follow-up with an appropriate provider and I quickly scheduled exams with both an optometrist and an ENT specialist (the doctor we saw for recurrent ear infections and ear tubes when Cathy was a toddler).
Earlier this week, I sat in the optometrist's office and learned that my little girl is farsighted.
Rich and I are both nearsighted and so I just always assumed that when my kids started having vision problems (and I am told there's a 70% likelihood that each kid will have problems simply because both their parents have problems), it would be seeing the chalkboard in the front of the room rather than the sheet of paper right under their noses.
We ordered a pair of glasses for Cathy before we left the office... and now we wait. We wait for the glasses to come in. And we wait to see what kind of a difference it will make in her coloring, her cutting, her writing skills. Maybe it won't make all the difference, but in hindsight, I'd bet that her inability to see the things closest to her has hindered her. How could it not???
She still has her share of challenges... we've recently opened an IEP with the school district which will cover minimal speech and language and occupational therapy support over the calendar year BUT we were told time and time again in our IEP meeting that there are many areas where Cathy is at an age-appropriate level.
And while I am sure there are hundreds of ways that I can, and likely will, fail my kids over the years, I am vowing right now that I will not expect less of her than I do of her brother again.
I held Cathy to a lower standard than I do Matt. I simply dismissed her inability to color inside the lines, to neatly print her letters and numbers on a line or inside a box as a side effect of her history. Of the mild, yet pervasive developmental delays of her childhood.
Not once did it occur to me that it could be something, anything else. And for that I am ashamed.
I received a call from the school nurse in mid-December letting me know that Cathy had failed both her routine vision and hearing exams. As is the case with many kindergarten kids, it wasn't clear how much of the result was a lack of understanding for what was expected of her versus an actual problem with her vision or hearing. We were asked to follow-up with an appropriate provider and I quickly scheduled exams with both an optometrist and an ENT specialist (the doctor we saw for recurrent ear infections and ear tubes when Cathy was a toddler).
Earlier this week, I sat in the optometrist's office and learned that my little girl is farsighted.
Rich and I are both nearsighted and so I just always assumed that when my kids started having vision problems (and I am told there's a 70% likelihood that each kid will have problems simply because both their parents have problems), it would be seeing the chalkboard in the front of the room rather than the sheet of paper right under their noses.
We ordered a pair of glasses for Cathy before we left the office... and now we wait. We wait for the glasses to come in. And we wait to see what kind of a difference it will make in her coloring, her cutting, her writing skills. Maybe it won't make all the difference, but in hindsight, I'd bet that her inability to see the things closest to her has hindered her. How could it not???
She still has her share of challenges... we've recently opened an IEP with the school district which will cover minimal speech and language and occupational therapy support over the calendar year BUT we were told time and time again in our IEP meeting that there are many areas where Cathy is at an age-appropriate level.
And while I am sure there are hundreds of ways that I can, and likely will, fail my kids over the years, I am vowing right now that I will not expect less of her than I do of her brother again.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Cathy Rides the Bus
In Miracles, I talked about all the challenges that Cathy faced early in life. Without question, this was my favorite post of the year and it's one that I have gone back and read a number of times. When you've considered a life raising a child with a disability, even if that life never really comes to be, it is so much sweeter to celebrate their milestones.
There was no bigger milestone for Cathy in 2011 than the start of school. In our district, the first day of school for kindergarten kids is an hour... parents take their children to school and meet with the teachers while the kids listen to stories and play with toys. So while this was certainly a big day, the day after is what I will remember as my best memory of the year... August 31, 2011. The first school bus ride.
Cathy was so excited to start school and to ride the bus with her brother. She slid her backpack on 10 minutes before it was time to head outside and she bounced with excitement on the walk to the bus stop.
Cathy had no reservations leaving us to ride the bus which certainly made things a little easier on me. Once she was up the steps and the bus started to pull away, I cried. Happy, happy tears. On a happy, happy day!
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| Cathy's first full day of school |
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| Cathy stepping onto the bus! |
Cathy had no reservations leaving us to ride the bus which certainly made things a little easier on me. Once she was up the steps and the bus started to pull away, I cried. Happy, happy tears. On a happy, happy day!
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