Do not repeal the ACA

An open letter to my representatives:

My daughter has not been hospitalized for over 6 years now (knock wood). What's kept her out of the hospital is the daily regime of medication that keeps her chronic asthma under control. And, we keep our medicine cabinet filled with those medications because we can. Half the time I pick up her prescriptions and have to pay no more at the counter than my signature. Because, both my husband and I work. What's more, he works in high tech, for a company that makes quality insurance available to their employees. And if he didn't, we could go on my municipality's insurance program, constantly defended by my teacher's union so that teachers and their families can stay healthy. Most days, I don't think twice about health insurance. Our plan lets us choose almost any doctor, my daughter's maintenance drugs are covered, my husband's employer even matches a certain percentage of our deposits into our Health Savings Account. 

A few months ago, my daughter turned 18. And a few days ago, the Republican Administration announced their plan to overhaul healthcare coverage. 

I can still hide in my middle class bubble. As long as we, her parents, have the means we will always make sure our daughter has the medications she needs. And we live in Massachusetts which has a much better track record of taking care of its citizens than some others. I'm lucky. We are lucky.

But, my sisters and brothers in Wyoming, Arizona, and Puerto Rico are not so lucky.

I think the administration is counting on my silent complicity. And it makes sense, I have been silent for a long time, focused inward on my own family, my own daughter's breath. And honestly, there were some nights where my daughter's breath was the only thing I could be asked to focus on. 

But she hasn't been hospitalized for 6 years (should I knock wood again?). Her prescriptions are ready at the pharmacy. I have room in my day to focus elsewhere. And, I see that I can not be silently complicit anymore. 

As a Massachusetts voter, as a concerned citizen of the United States, I urge you to do everything in your power to ensure access to quality health care for every person in this country. The current plan backed by the Republican Administration is insufficient. It will bankrupt young women like my daughter who need to take medication every day to breathe. It will encourage risky balancing acts as people decide which medical advice they can afford to follow. It will profit a few at the expense of many. 

Our government of the people, by the people, FOR the people has an opportunity to fix those aspects of the Affordable Care Act that need tending. But, don't let them throw the baby out with the bathwater. Please defend the Affordable Health Care Act and the people who rely on it for coverage. Please defend the millions of Americans who do not have my middle class privilege, who do not have working parents to fall back on, who do not have generous employers or vocal unions, who do not have savings. Let's take care of ensuring access to health care so the next scared parent can just focus on her daughter's breath.

I am sending this letter to all of my federal representatives, to the President, and to the Speaker of the House. Because I will not be silent.

moving on

At the end of this school year there were suddenly two high school students in my house. Anya finished middle school and in September will be a freshman in high school.

Middle school can be tough. Kids do a lot of growing up and changing and that can mean that friendships that were once important become, well, less so. As they mature and explore new interests and begin to lose passion for others, friends in 8^th grade can suddenly find that they have little in common. And that doesn’t have to mean the end of a friendship but sometimes it is anyway. Trouble is, your average 14 year old does not approach this situation with calm reflection. (Really, do we at any age?) Friendship is emotion, and so is adolescence.

When I went to high school I held on to my middle school friends for a little while, but I was quickly preoccupied with new people and new interests. I never had a fight with my friends, never called them names or passed them “break-up” notes, but one day looked up and they weren’t there and it didn’t upset me. When I ran into them later it was always pleasant, and I even enjoy catching up with them now on Facebook. I grew in different ways than they did.

This phenomenon has happened a few times in my life. When I went to graduate school I lost touch with a few of my working friends. When I became a Mom I felt some of my single friends fall away. Even my relationship with my siblings has morphed over time, depending on where we each were in our pursuit of happiness.

So, my 8^th grader, now 9^th grader, is exploring new friendships, strengthening the bond with some, loosening the bond with others. And though there have been some painful moments and some mis-steps, I think its all good.

I was thinking of this change in her life as we held our annual school work burning last night. We mark the end of the year with hope for the next. This year’s fire burned off some hard feelings and sadness and hopefully cleared the way for a joyous high school experience.

parenting the cough

The seal cough woke me up. You know the one, that cough that sounds like a young seal pup is barking in your child’s room. Only, there is no seal. The barking I hear is my own little girl who has an “unproductive” cough that she just can’t stop though she wants to stop because each unproductive cough produces pain in her throat. Her chest is tight and her breathing somewhat labored (though not the labor we saw last week in her asthmatic sister, thank goodness). She is sad and miserable.

I broke out the medicine that usually works, ran to the store for orange juice (which we ran out of yesterday because we all have colds) and hot chocolate (which makes her happy, even if it has no medicinal purpose). The cough lessened, though it has not disappeared, and my little girl (who really is not little at all and is anticipating her 13^th birthday next month) is wrapped up in a blanket reading in a chair near her sister.

I hate the seal cough and the asthma attacks and the bellyaches and the congestion and all the other things that make my girls miserable. I hate them because I can do so little to stop them. The worst part of parenting is the ineffectiveness, the helplessness.

And it doesn’t get better just because your girls grow into teenagers. 

Things my father taught me:

·      Do it well, do it right, whatever it is – washing dishes, laying brick, writing essays. Even if you didn’t want to do it in the first place, do it right because someone is counting on you.

·      Don’t take yourself seriously, at all. Human beings fart and snort and stumble and say the wrong thing. Go with it.

·      Love completely and show it in the way that seems best to you. Not everyone wants flowers or jewelry, sometimes love is better shown by loosening the lids on jars before you put them in the fridge, by standing close with a strong arm ready, by looking at your spouse with the same sparkle after 50 years of marriage as you did after 50 days.

·      See joy everywhere. Joy is a choice and we can sit around and worry or watch a four year old create a block tower big enough to hold her imagination.

·      Do what you love; even if you have to do something else to make a living, do what you love as well.

My Mom and Dad, before they were married, before they had 10 kids.
See that love - that never dimmed.

SoL- apples and chaos

Monday night, band rehearsal.

Tuesday night is play rehearsal for one, soccer practice for the other.

I’ve had meetings the past two Wednesday nights.

Thursdays are for soccer practice

Friday afternoon means afterschool theater, nighttime marching band.

On Saturday, we head out to two different soccer games.

Sunday afternoon, I’m busy planning Monday’s class.

The above description of our week explains why my daughter was complaining about having frozen chicken nuggets for supper, again.

I haven’t been able to figure out how to fit in a family supper more than once a week. I make food that can travel, or make individual sized meals that each person eats before or after activities. I’m not a great cook, and my girls are finicky eaters, and I’m trying to avoid take-out and drive-through windows – and all of that combined makes for a stressful meal-time.

And, I haven’t been much fun to be around, either.

So, when Monday’s band rehearsal was cancelled, I decided to be a little more fun. The girls and I went to one of the local apple picking farms and filled two bags. We walked all over the orchard, looking for the best fruit; we climbed to the top of the hill for an unexpected view of acres of pines and maples; and we gathered the most beautiful red and orange and yellow leaves to take home and press.

When we got home, I scoured the empty cupboards and found a few potatoes to make the girls’ favorite home fries, baked some squash to make a batch of soup sweetened with apples, and cooked a supper that the four of us could enjoy together. It was lovely.

Today, I put aside the pile of essays I was grading when the girls came home from school and fried up a few apples with cinnamon as an afterschool treat.

Yes, I threw leftover spaghetti sauce and mozzarella onto a refrigerated pizza dough and called it supper before shuttling the kids to theater and soccer, and I’m typing this in my car (which is not helping my sore wrist) while I wait for rehearsal to be over, but the smell of those cinnamon apples and my daughter’s lip-snacking smile is still with me.

This level of business is new for us. There’s a lot I like about it, and a lot I don’t. I’m looking forward to the end of soccer season in a few weeks, but I know there will be other activities to take its place. I just need to remember to stop and smell the apples, and enjoy my beautiful girls through the chaos.

Read more Slice of Life posts at The Two Writing Teachers blog