Running Stitch

It is no surprise to anyone who comes by here regularly that Rancid Raves. is one of my favorite people. I am constantly in awe of not only her courage in the face of the poisonous spiders she KEEPS IN HER HOUSE! but also of her constant foray into the world with Team Chaos to Learn! New! Things! ( I prefer to stay at home and play with mud ) Her constant ability to not only stand up for what she believes in, but to put it so eloquently often has me standing and cheering and wishing I were her.

Sharing! It’s like kindergarten online…stop eating the paste and read on.

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Hello!  This is Kelli from Rancid Raves.  Brit is off flitting about in the woods ( probably getting her hair done by the birds with singing mice at her heels.  Because Brit is so fancy, no? )  Anyway!  While she is gone, I thought I would sneak in here and shill for my business (okay, okay…. Brit actually asked me to guest post about this particular topic, but sounding sneaky and devious about it is far more fun. Work with me here….. )

So!

My husband and I have an online business, a place where you can shop for a huge variety of gift cards (and believe me, it is far easier to purchase gift cards from Snapgifts.com than to trek out yourself to do it) and what is particularly cool, is that we have a large selection of unique, locally owned businesses (just not in Brit’s area.  Which she has pointed out repeatedly.  Ahem.)  But!  I am not here to talk about that.  I am here to talk about our Giving Registry.

Often, when families find themselves in an emergency situation or dealing with chronic illness or disease, their loved ones and friends have no idea how to help.  To that end, we launched a special program that helps families in need – a special registry system called The Giving Registry.   Using this feature, families in need are able to create an account with Snapgifts.com and establish a registry by selecting gift cards for places that would help them the most (i.e. specific restaurants, gas stations and pharmacies that were close to their home).  The first of its kind, the Giving Registry allows a patient to communicate his/her needs and importantly, the patient can easily add his/her Registry to online patient journals and personal websites.

We found that friends and family members were frustrated because they WANTED to help their loved ones as they face a medical challenges, but it was difficult to know what sort of help was needed.  The Giving Registry gives them an easy way to help.  I am so proud to be involved with this, actually making a difference for folks.  (If you or someone you know is interested in our product and needs help with the process, please contact me directly via email:kelli@snapgifts.com.  Also, important to note?  My husband and I have a firm stance on No Profits when it comes to the Giving Registry.  If profits are to magically appear from this, they will be redistributed back to the family on a quarterly basis.)

This is personal to me, as I have had friends and family over the years face a variety of cancers.  And the most difficult?  When someone far away is suffering.  I have a friend who is very ill right now and I have not been able to visit her because of flu season and the fact that she cannot have visitors who have flown commercial air flights.  Since my private plane is on concrete blocks in my front yard, I have been chomping at the bit to see her until  I get clearance to fly commercial (my insistence that she set up a detoxification chamber outside her house was met with laughter.  Geez, I was serious.)

Supporting a friend long-distance is tricky, I am definitely looking for advice.  Here are the ideas I have come up with so far:

1. Sending gift cards (duh!)

2. Sending care packages for her and for her toddler daughter.  This is two-fold.  My friend cannot go out in public much, she does not get to peruse the aisles of Target, and she does not get to hang out in playgroups with other moms to get ideas.  So, I send her things that she may not know about.  Also, I try to think of things that she can do with her daughter, since they are home so much.  Conversely, I like to send things that will entertain her daughter alone, so that my friend can get a few minutes of rest to herself.  My favorite items to send are products from Crayola’s Color Wonder series because it is not a high-risk item for “mass destruction”.

3. Talking.  Just talking.  My friend told me the other day, that sometimes, she just wants to talk.  Like normal.  Not about the cancer.  So,  I have to remind myself that while cancer lingers in the background, my friend is still my friend, with no special adjectives attached.

Here is the rub:  I have not been as supportive of a friend as I would have liked.  Not nearly and I am embarrassed to admit this public.  Deep breath…..   Some of it is fright, some of it helplessnes, some of it is “life with two small children… whoa.  Where did the past month just go?“  But it is never too late to kick in and be supportive.  If you have any special thoughts or ideas in situations like this, I am all ears.

Peace,

Kelli

Creating a Giving Registry is easy:

1. Go to Snapgifts.com and create new account.

2. On the left sidebar, under “Search Gift Registries” select the option  “Create New Registry”

3. After creating the registry, you can add items by browsing the Snapgifts.com gift card catalog and from the product page, selecting the button “Add to Registry“

*I get by with a little help from my friends-Joe Cocker or The Beatles, your choice, I can’t decide!

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped up on pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably shouldn’t be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Cagey who can usually be found at Rancid Raves detailing the meaningless minutiae that generally comprises her life.

When Brit asked for guest posters last week, I knew that I would want to write something. My father in law had just died in India and my husband scooted out on a plane with less than 2 days of preparation.  Brit assumed I would not want to write something, with everything going on.  However, I knew that thinking of something to write would force my hand at something. I was not sure what that something was, but I knew, instinctively that I would want to write something for her.  And yes, that is a stellar use of the word “something”.  Admit it, you’re impressed.

Anyway! After a few days of single parenting while trying to keep a business afloat, I quickly realized what it was that I wanted to write.

Help!

More importantly, I wanted to write about receiving it.

As I mentioned, my husband had to tear off for India on very short notice.  I was left with 2 children (4 and 2.5) and a business to keep going while he was gone.  We don’t have babysitters (Note to Self: must get ON that), but the kids are in school two mornings a week.  When I told friends and family about my FIL’s death, the outpouring of support and offers of help overwhelmed me.  At first, I resisted with a “No, thanks.  We are fine.”  However, I realized that I was simply hurting myself and our children.  Eventually, not only did I accept some offers of help, I even reached out and asked for it.

Did you hear that, Brit?  I asked for help.  Shocking, yet true.  And you know what?  It was not that painful.

One of my first worries for Brit when she told me about the operation and mandated bedrest was that she would gradually go certifiably insane having to depend on others and not be able to take care of herself or her boys. One of the things that I love about Brit is that we are opposites – Brit is a person who does things – a mover, a shaker. After reading her blog, I need a nap myself.  Or at least, a cup of coffee. I much prefer sitting on my butt in my favorite chair reading, watching TV or knitting.  Of the two of us, I am infinitely more qualified for bedrest.

However! I would like to take a minute to remind her that the better she takes care of herself by letting others help her out, the sooner she can get back to running her own show. I am not there near the Burrow, no.  And it is frustrating to pack up trite, silly care packages.  Bah.  Oh sure, care packages are nice, but they only provide comfort, not help.  All I can offer is a warm, inviting inbox that will happily receive your grumbles and frustrations without complaint.

Please Brit – do not try to be the bigger woman – please ask for help.

Have you ever been on bedrest?

Do you have suggestions for keeping the Crazies away?

* Do I really need to say who sung this particular song?  I am not a fan and even I know.  Heh.

PS. Nearly hit the Lady Oliver box for a category.  I am a lady, no?  Oh, you meant the CAT?

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped up on pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably shouldn’t be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Beth who can infrequently be found at Whinging It because she is generally so busy watching TV and trying to figure out how to further ruin her own bangs.

It is a sad reflection on my own personality that when I first heard Brit was getting back surgery, I got a little jealous.

I am the result of long lines of sturdy and superstitious farming forebears.  Due to my uncles’ missing fingers and accompanying horror stories that usually involved threshing machines, I have always been unusually careful with my limbs and digits.  Even though I have gone through spurts of athleticism, the most I’ve ever suffered was a turned ankle or a skinned knee.  As for general illness, through a genetic quirk passed down by my father, I am immune to strep throat.  In fact, the only aches and pains I suffer in life are mild hay fever and tension headaches that are a direct result of working on a computer too much.  As my physical therapist has said on more than one occasion of working on my broad shoulders: “Look at you.  You should be in a field somewhere, not sitting idly at a screen.”

I say all of this not to brag, and trust me when I assure you that I’m just about knocking a wooden surface between every character I type here.  I say all of this to set the scene that I’ve never experienced the ramifications that occur with surgery.

When I was a child, going to the hospital seemed so FUN.  When I was six, my oldest sister had to have her tonsils out.  I’m sure it hurt; it was a last resort after years of sore throats (the genetic quirk skipped her) and gagging whenever she had a bite larger than a ladybug.  I’m sure the tonsillectomy was a miserable experience for her, but that’s not what I saw.  I saw, in no particular order: Unlimited pudding and ice cream, lots of presents from friends and family, and sole control of the t.v. remote for what seemed like weeks but was probably a couple days.

So, as the six-year-old mind goes: Surgery equals great rewards.

I had a few more brushes with hospital life and general surgery over the years, but it all looked pretty okay.  Television all day?  Check.  Jell-o?  Yep. Craft-o-Matic bed?  You betcha.  All of these things: Fun.  My conclusions were only cemented when I was thirteen and my other sister had to have back surgery for scoliosis (she didn’t get the farming shoulders).  Yeah, I understood that she had to have a rod put in her spine, BUT she no longer ever had to be told to stand up straight AND my parents got her a bird to keep her company while she recuperated.  Again, I got that there was pain, but c’mon, BIRD.

All in all, I can’t seem to shake an initial reaction of “Lucky!” when someone tells me of a planned hospital stay.  And while as an adult I understand that it’s not all fun and games and new pets, I hope that Brit gets to enjoy a little bit of her convalescence.  Here’s hoping there’s a season of “Veronica Mars” she hasn’t already seen and/or that J.K. Rowling will publish a surprise Harry Potter follow-up in the next few days.

Feel better, Brit!  And those of us at a distance give hugs to the close-up family and friends who are helping Brit and her family through this pain-in-the-back experience.

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped up on pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably shouldn’t be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Kate who can usually be found at Last Call Bags sewing totes out of recycled malt sacks when she isn’t lurking on sewing blogs.

Brit and I finally met close to the time our firstborn children turned one.  I don’t know why it took so long for us to meet, we are practically twins.

Brit and I were both:

• born in Pennsylvania in the 1970s
• regulars at South Jersey beaches
• 1990s graduates of state universities in Washington (Go Huskies!)
• competitive rowers for our rival universities (Bow down to Washington!)
• the youngest members of our respective quilt guilds
• first-time mothers on the same day in February, 2004.

How could we not be friends?  Well, besides the fact that she went to WSU, and I went to UW.  Oh, and she lives on the West Coast, and I live on the East Coast… and, uh, one more thing, she had a boy that day and I had a girl.  Other than that, though, it’s like I said!  We’re practically twins.

Right away, I liked Brit’s style.  She has running friends and quilting friends and mom friends.  She puts on theme parties for her friends and everyone gets together to run or quilt or parent, and then they EAT!   If I lived nearby, I’d even be tempted to dust off my running shoes, just to maximize the number of parties I could attend.  Since I don’t live nearby, I am trying to copy her and host my own cool party, and I am going for quilting bee.  This fall, I implemented Operation Quilting Bee, Phase 1.

IF YOUR FRIENDS DON’T QUILT, TEACH THEM HOW!

My husband  and some colleagues recently moved into a new office suite with lots of empty white walls.  I asked them if I could hang a quilt exhibit for 2 months and use an unoccupied office as a classroom for a couple of hours every weekend.  Then I offered a free quilting class to all my friends.  Two women gave up 6 Sunday afternoons to meet me at the office, look at my quilts, listen to me talk about quilts, and learn how to make their first quilt.  What was I thinking offering a class for free?  I should have offered them money!  But they showed up each week, and look!  Here are the quilts they made:

And I joke that I should have paid them, but really, I gained so much by teaching quilting to others.  I was amazed to find out that I could decorate 4 rooms and a hallway with quilts that I designed all by myself.  I found out that even though I could mount an exhibit of my original work, I still feel like a phony if someone calls me an artist.  (“Quiltmaker” is more descriptive and less embarrassing, don’t you think?)  I suffered through a colossal teaching mistake.  I failed to review my favorite binding technique the night before the last class, and yup, I taught the technique wrong.  And it didn’t work.  And did I mention it was the last class?  Oh Lordy.  Well, we got through it, see above.

So, OPERATION QUILTING BEE, PHASE 1, is complete.  I also fulfilled the quilter’s obligation: each one, teach one.  When I recover from my first teaching experience, I’ll think about OQB, PHASE 2: HAVE A QUILT PARTY AND EAT GOOD FOOD.  That part’s got to be easier.

Thanks, Brit, for letting us share in your days at the Burrow.  I love seeing your boys playing together, although I really don’t know how they got so big.  Take it easy this week.  We are all sending you healing thoughts.

*Rise up with Pride for Washington …the University of Washington, that is

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped upon pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably should not be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Mia who can usually be found making much ado about nothing.  This is the sixth (and final!) update today.

Well, by now, you must have guessed…Brit is HOME and gently anticipating the relief that will come when her medication kicks in!   She is propped up and watching reruns of Friends, thankful that her surgeons have relieved the pain and numbness that has plagued her for two years.

I am sure that, when The Stitch Family looks back on this day, many emotions and memories will flood their mind’s eye.  One of my personal favorites, that touched me so deeply, was The Man’s description of dropping the boys off before they left for the hospital.  They left Wah at pre-school.  He barely waved as he dove into the mosh pit of pre-schoolers, sucked off into the vortex.  And Moo, even with feeling under the weather and his very own doctor’s appointment that went with it, contentedly skipped school and left, paw to paw, with his grandma.

And why do I love these two images so much?  Because they totally, completely, and genuinely define The Stiches in my heart and my mind.  I love love love that those two little boys, despite anything and everything that may be happening around them, move through the world so confidently and so surely embraced in the love of their parents and family.   I pictured them, years from now, reading through this journal (that really is just a love letter to them), and I picture them coming to the entries that mark the beginning of this path that their mom has been on, that led right up to this day of her surgery.  I picture them, shaking their heads, and saying, “Mom, I had no idea you were in so much pain!  We had no idea that you were so sad!”   The boys will only know one thing…that their mom and dad love them, exquisitely.

I want to thank you for the comments (be sure and go back to read The Man’s updates in the comments over the last few posts!), as I know Brit will enjoy catching up with you when and as her recovery allows.

As for us, I think tonight would be a great night to raise a glass, let that breathe out, and give thanks ~ salud y amor y tiempo para disfrutarlo* ~ to the support of friends and family, to health (our own and that of our dear friend Brit), and to each one of you who thought the good thoughts all throughout today.  I know she felt you with her!  This wasn’t an easy decision for Brit to make, but it was the right one.  She was meant to walk ~ and run! ~ through this life, hand-in-hand with these three boys.  Now she’s ready to do just that!

* health and love and time to enjoy them

* All of My Love ~ Led Zeppelin

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped upon pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably should not be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Mia who can usually be found making much ado about nothing.  This is the fifth update today.

I’ve had two (beautiful) children, and my husband was at my side both times.  During the time I was in labor (once with an epidural, and once without so much as an aspirin) I was completely inside myself.  I can remember finding things out later…about panicked decisions, about family arguments in the hallway, about my own terrible behavior (whoops!).  Erik, my husband, lived through every emotionally excrutiating moment; I was in a cloud, off on my own island.

As I’ve ‘chatted’ with The Man over the last couple of hours (and as you can see in the comment he left earlier today!), I’ve been remembering how hard it is (even how much harder it is, in many ways) for the one on the outside,  left to wait and hold everything together while the one on the inside goes about the very important business of hunkering down and focusing on getting through.

He is, frankly, losing his mind.  Today he has spent hours waiting and passing the time until Brit emerges, the butterfly from the cocoon of talented doctors whose every fiber is focused on her and her needs.  While Brit has pain medication to look forward to, The Man has only hard plastic chairs and cheap coffee to get him through these hours.  Where Brit is wheeled from place to place, The Man is left shuffling between cafeterias and waiting rooms.  Where Brit is cracking jokes and making friends with the entire staff, The Man is using purple latex gloves to crack wise and, uh, then he has to apologize about that later.  (ahem)

Nothing’s easy on the one left behind!   Like all of you, I’m so sure that everything is going well!  And, like you, I haven’t heard the ‘official word’ about life in the recovery room.  But I’m going to give Papa Stitch some rope on this one…he’s clearly, slowly, going insane.

* Whatever Gets You Through the Night ~ John Lennon

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped upon pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably should not be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Mia who can usually be found making much ado about nothing.  This is the fourth update today.

As Brit prepared for surgery, she was enjoying her new robotic arm!  According to Scott, it makes coffee.    Which is a good thing since, also according to Scott, he’s been spending a lot of time in the cafeteria, watching the medical staff plow through the lattes.   Perhaps Brit’s arm can be pressed into service as a back up for caffeine needs!

Scott is on his way up to the waiting room, even as we are speaking, because she is due out of surgery any time now!

It does my heart SO GOOD to see this picture…her smiling eyes, his silly jokes…all is well in Stitch Land, my friends!

* Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto ~ Styx

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped upon pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably should not be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Mia who can usually be found making much ado about nothing.  This is the second update for today.

Although I promised unicorns and rainbows, this first mid-morning update involves typical ‘when it rains it pours’ scenarios that we mamas know oh-too-well!

Brit’s surgery was moved from 12 noon to 2 pm, which was the first glitch.  For Brit, of course, this means NO FOOD FOR TWO MORE HOURS and, also, WHY CAN’T I JUST GO HOME until much later in the evening.  This all means that she will be leaving for the hospital check-in around 11 am instead of around 9 am.

Now, as can happen, this scheduling change holds some unexpected benefits.  Chief among them?  Time to squeeze in a doctor’s visit for Moo.  Oh, did I not mention that?  Yeah, it  seems Moo is developing a small ~ wee, really ~ case of possible bronchitis.  So, much of last night was spent with a Big Boy who was trying to forcibly remove a lung through coughing, while also working up a decently sized fever.

Honestly, I can’t  help but think it was a gift (provided that he doesn’t actually have bronchitis, of course) because instead of worrying about today, and the sad anticipation of a long recovery, she was able to spend these last few precious hours as an active mama, well, mothering, instead of worrying.  Being able to take care of him, being there when her babe needed her, it’s the most powerful gift a mom can give…and get.

In typical Brit fashion, of course, she crawled into bed after soothing Moo and moving him from the puddle of sheets, and her mind started skipping ahead…there is just no way, no way, if Moo has bronchitis, that he will be able to stay here in the house with her while she’s recovering.  Even with the loving support of family and friends, the risk of infection would be just too great.  She rolled over, poked Scott, and, amidst his grunting and snoring, propped his eyes open with her fingertips.  “Scott….Scott!…Listen, if Moo can’t come home tonight, if he has to stay at your mom’s house until the bronchitis is gone…Scott!  Listen to me!…If he’s there for a week, you need to go set up a video camera, one of those nanny-cams?  Because I need to be able to see him and talk to him.”

Confident that he will remember this in the morning (I got your back, Scott!), she rested.  And this morning, as she readies Wah for pre-school, and Moo for the doctor’s, and herself for her surgery, I am so happy for her that she is spending these last few hours pre-surgery doing exactly what she loves to do, wrapped in support from the man she loves.   Somebody else can wash those sweaty sheets; she’s got hugs to give out and brows to wipe and encouragement to give.

Rainy Day Women #12 and 35 ~ Bob Dylan

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped upon pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably should not be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Mia who can usually be found making much ado about nothing.

Today is the day that Brit will be undergoing surgery for her back.  A lot of very special people will be holding their collective breath, ready to exhale when she wakes up and, I predict, asks for something to eat and drink.  I am confident that these will be her first words because, as of midnight last night, she will not be able to eat or drink anything at all for 14 hours in preparation for anesthesia.  This news , and the despair and incredulity with which she met this news, makes me think that she equated this situation with being sentenced to a Thai prison for 14 years. Let’s just say her priorities, upon waking,  will be something akin to:  my boys, they are okay?  my husband, he is okay?  the cheeseburger, it is on the way?

It is obvious to anyone who meets The Stitch Family, either through the words and photographs Brit shares here on her blog or in Real Life, that these four people are madly, passionately in love with each other.  That’s why it has been so heartbreaking to watch Brit prepare for the next few weeks; her entire world resides in the touch and embrace of  these three boys, and she lives to scoop them up and to love them up.  I don’t think even she has fully comprehended a world where that can’t happen, no matter how temporary it may be.

There are many words, pictures, and revelations that will come from Brit herself during the next few months.  Today, it is my honor to document what happens leading up to the time that marks the  end of her surgery and the beginning of her recovery, counting the moments until she’s back to  giving piggyback rides and rolling cars on the floor.   I plan to update every couple of hours, and since I anticipate only happy times and good news each and every time, please feel free to stalk her blog and get ready to exhale!

* Renaissance:  Orient Express

Washington State University 1995ish

This week I’m having surgery (woohoo) and I’ve asked a few friends to pop by here and post in my absence because who knows what I’ll write about while hopped up on pain medication. I figure if you aren’t allowed to drive, you probably shouldn’t be writing on your blog either . I’ll see you back here next week, in the meantime, today’s post is written by Sarah who can usually be found at anislandyear where she writes about life in general and life on an island specifically.

I met Brittany in college & reconnected with her in this crazy world wide web. I love her blog & am honored (and a wee bit nervous) to be posting here. Here’s to a swift and safe recovery for Brittany. …

And a post about roads.

My blog is about life on an island. A life that M (my husband), T (our nearly 6-year-old son), and I are choosing despite the unknowns of how it will work out. This is about the distinctions I find along the way. Distinctions that may or may not have to do entirely with being on an island but that inevitably include the island. So here I am on Running Stitch, sharing a bit of that with you all.

During college, when I needed to diffuse the typical angst, I drove. A mixed tape, my red Nissan Sentra, and a main drag out of Pullman. In those hours, the roads provided smooth pavement, sustained high speed, and an easy escape.

On this island, the roads are circular or straight dead ends. Tar-and-gravel, just gravel, or mud. My usual drives to the village or school and back rarely push me over 25 mph. These island roads bump and twist and sink depending on trees, rock, and water. Jostling drives remind me that this land is often rough, at times smooth. That this land is unavoidable.

This year, the autumn rains nearly flooded our driveway. M laid a culvert across the worst spot. But the persistent puddles deepened the potholes. Subtle rills pushed up the existing bumps. And then, with the need for a new phone wire laid, the driveway was freshly graveled. Holes filled, bumps smoothed.

Though my early 20s angst has long since dissipated and my urgency for driving has changed, I am still drawn to the road. Our drive’s gravel has settled. The car dips now and then. T swerves his bicycle around the random roots. I toss an errant branch to the side. But I find myself missing the ruts, the force of earth against tires. I find the evenness deceptive. I find myself looking for the sharp curves, the deep grooves, the thumps and the bumps. I find my urge to drive now satiated by what is real.