Love your tatas.

As everyone knows, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. If you don't know, have you been living under a rock? With all of the pink floating around, it looks like someone spilled a million gallon vat of Pepto! I have somewhat of a problem with everyone commercializing the month- even in the name of charity.

But, I digress. The Susan G. Komen Foundation has done a lot for breast cancer awareness, and that was part of the reason that I applied to work with them in 2010. I drove to Wichita, KS and interviewed in a 2nd round interview and was a finalist to becoming an Education Coordinator with them. It was my dream job.

There are two reasons that I care so deeply about breast cancer awareness.

The first is that I have breasts, and I feel that everyone should be aware of their body. The girls and I have been together since they came onto the scene when I was in third grade, and I was the only one in Mrs. Lankford's class to have breasts, strapped in by a hot pink sports bra. I remember looking down my shirt all day, that first day, because I was in awe of what was growing there. I was the only girl in my class (that I knew of) that was wearing a bra at this time. None of my friends could relate. In fact, no one could really relate to me until I was in sixth grade, when my friends were getting theirs. By 8th grade, I was a DD. By the time I graduated high school I was a DDD.

I got a lot of attention for my breasts and still do to this day. I used to try to cover them as much as possible, as they were a source of embarrassment. T-Shirts stopped fitting right, and still don't, dresses that fit me on top are too large on bottom. Many tear soaked shopping trips with my mother happened between ages 9 and 17.

I was a freshman in high school when I really started owning my breasts. I started to wear more revealing clothing but always tried to maintain modesty. However, that wasn't always so simple. I had to layer shirts as regular shirts would show too much.

The second reason is that my grandmother is a breast cancer survivor. When I was in high school, I heard through the family grapevine that she was going through treatment. She didn't tell me at first, and she didn't tell me when it came back when I was in college. She said that she didn't want to distract me from my studies, but I wanted to be there for her. Since she's gone through this, we've become much closer. She's a true fighter- she fought it tooth and nail and has now been several years in remission.

Because I have large, dense breasts and my grandmother is a survivor, there are obvious concerns that I might also get it. There are options for testing for the breast cancer gene, which can tentatively predict if one may develop breast cancer. Some who have discovered that they have this mutation elect to have hysterectomies and masectomies (breast removal). I have elected not to be tested for this gene. I simply do not feel ready to take the necessary steps, if I am positive for the gene. I also do not live my life in fear.

I get yearly breast exams by my doctor and I have been sent for three ultrasounds and one mammogram, all came back negative. It was quite odd, being 22, at a mammogram machine. So odd, in fact, that even though I was referred by my physician, my insurance wouldn't cover it.

I worry about it sometimes, but we cannot control these things. All we can do is be diligent by monthly self-exams (this is how my grandmother found her lump that led to the removal of the breast). You cannot wait for your yearly exam to have your doctor catch it. They're your breasts- you are responsible for their health and well-being! Take care of your tatas. They're the only (natural) ones you get!

Baby Lisa

Last week, 10-month-old baby Lisa Irwin disappeared from her Kansas City, Missouri home. Her parents claim that an intruder came into their home, and took baby Lisa and their cell phones. If you're not familiar with this story, you can click here to read about it.

As the Amber Alert was issued early Tuesday morning, panic spread across Facebook- my news feed was covered with online flyers and news stories. As spectators we sunk our teeth into every piece of new information that surfaced. We watched the videos of the news conferences, we tried to be "internet sleuths"- we picked apart each quote, each scenario, each facial expression. We tried to solve it in our minds. Why? Because a story like this is bizarre.

Soon, we turned on the parents. Comments turned from horror to accusatory- "she had something to do with it" graced our lips. The first day, we already wanted closure. We reasoned in our minds that a baby would never be kidnapped out of their home by a complete stranger, a la Raising Arizona. We also reasoned that if this unlikely scenario did happen, then the baby would be safe and unharmed.  We waited each day for it to come to a happy ending... but it didn't.

One thing that I have a really hard time with is realizing that some people are, inherently evil, or made so by their environment. While I thought Casey Anthony was guilty, I couldn't wrap my mind around someone who'd do these horrible things. When BTK surfaced, I fought my heart with my mind- he seemed so nice, so unassuming- there's no why he could do these things. I felt bad when his wife left him. I think it speaks to the fact that we all have some naivety in our minds, in our hearts. I'd say I have a pretty good grip on reality, and yet I just can't come to terms with this kind of evil.

It's hard for me to believe that this mother killed her baby. But I can't think of any other reason she'd make up a story such as this. Accidents happen; if the baby fell or passed away, the parents might fear the police but they still should have been called. The story is strange and someone knows where she is and what happened to her. I think about this all the time. I Google it from my phone, first thing in the morning, in case I missed an update. At this point, all it is is speculation. Everyone's speculating, probably even the police. No one knows where to go from here.

I think this is what's so hard about this case.. .as humans we like closure. We want a night, tied up, pretty package. Motive. Means. Opportunity. We don't have that here, which is so frustrating.

Where is Baby Lisa?



Home Sweet Home (A Reflection)

Today is the last day of my weekend, and we are finally home from Joplin. I am still so deeply troubled by what I saw there. I took a fully charged camera with me, but I didn't snap a single picture. I had intended on taking pictures and sharing what I saw with friends and family. However, once we got there, it was a whole different feeling. I felt like a voyeur as we drove past families in their yards, amid rubble and memories of their whole lives. I instantly felt that taking pictures of people's devastation and pain was disrespectful of the dead and the living.

The first day that we were in Joplin, we drove down Rangeline Rd. I thought what I saw there was the extent of the damage, but I was so very wrong. On Rangeline, part of the business district, tops of buildings were caved in, a chinese restaurants 20 ft tall metal sign was twisted and bent, lying parallel to the ground.

As we turned onto 20th St to drive to dinner,  I soon realized that Rangeline was lucky. 20th St had more damage that anything I had seen so far. Houses were flattened; naked tree branches jutted into the blue sky, with blunt edges, severed with chainsaws. Eerie sights were abound- free standing refrigerators, bricks in toppled messes, branches... street signs were gone, and the street names were spray painted onto the asphalt, giving direction to travelers who couldn't find their way... even Joplin residents who had grown up on the streets were lost on the wrecked streets.

At night we pulled into our hotel parking lot, next to a van with all of its windows blown out. They were covered with plastic bags, and the inside was filled to the brim with all of the remnants of their lives. Clothes, dishes, anything that could be salvaged from their home, was now in their van. In front of the room was the family, a man in a wheelchair with a broken leg. I gave him a sympathetic smile and he returned it. My heart ached for him.

We take our lives for granted sometimes, and my experience in Joplin has made me hold Adam a little closer, spend a little more time with my family and be grateful, and so thankful for my home, job, car, belongings. Knowing that it could be wiped away in one powerful storm is the most humbling experience of all.

I'll end on a happy note: Joplin is struggling, but they have resolve. They are a city of great courage and I admire them. God loves Joplin- people from all over have rallied together to help this city pick up the pieces. Free food was given out on every street corner- churches, civic organizations, kids, senior citizens- they gave what they could. They gave their time, energy, money, donations- as if to say, "You're not alone in this, Joplin. We love you."

Adopt a Dog: A Plea

In two years, we have owned three dogs. Roxy was a stray dog that we kept after searching for her owner. She was a great dog, but I thought she was lonely. Adam and I fought about it, as he said that we didn't have enough room or money for a second dog. In the end, I won, and we went to pick out a second dog.

We knew that we wanted to adopt a dog from a shelter as there are so many dogs in the shelter that need good homes. We took Roxy to a shelter and let her "pick one out". The first dog that we chose didn't work out: he was growling at her while she sniffed him. The second, Trixie, was a tree walker coonhound, with long ears and tall, skinny legs. I would have never picked her out, but she and Roxy got along right away. They played in an outside pen and on the way home, they cuddled in the backseat. I knew right away that they were going to be best friends.

In December 2010, tragedy struck and we lost Trixie, and Roxy had her leg amputated. Roxy was so depressed during her recovery and I could barely get out of bed. I cried nonstop. In March 2011, we spread Trixie's ashes and considered getting a new dog. We tread lightly on this because we knew no one could replace Trixie. We went to the shelter and tried out a few dogs, but none really worked out. All of the sudden, behind the counter, I saw a timid black dog, who I assumed was a puppy because of her small stature. I said, "What about that one?" They brought this dog, named Cherry, out to meet Roxy. All of the sudden, Cherry's tail started wagging. "I've never seen her act like that!" said the girl behind the counter. We took Cherry home that night.

The first couple of days, Cherry did not like us all that much. She was scared and wouldn't move from the couch. She sat, almost lifeless, as we brought her food and water to her. When we let her outside, she either tried to escape or hid under the deck, shivering. I cried and told Adam that we should return her. She wasn't even playing with Roxy. I missed Trixie so badly in those moments. This dog wasn't for me, I thought. Adam asked me to give it just one more day and see if Cherry warmed up.

The next day, Cherry, now named Cora, transformed. She was bright, tail wagging, playing with Roxy, and licking me! She was a completely different dog. Cora has turned into a wonderful, sweet dog that greets me at the door with kisses and hugs. She follows me around the house and cuddles right next to me at night. She even takes naps with me!

We've come a long way from adopting Trixie a year ago. I never would have picked out Trixie, or Cora. But those two dogs have changed my life. The Warrensburg shelter is full right now and several dogs will be euthanized if not adopted by Thursday, June 2nd. Please, if you're looking for a new dog, consider adopting from the shelter. It's a great deal- they come microchipped and everything- and you're saving two lives in the process- you adopt one and another dog gets that cage and gets to live. Please consider adopting instead of going to a breeder or a pet store. 

We didn't necessarily have the time, energy, money or room for a second dog, but we opened our hearts and made it happen. It was the best decision of our lives.


Open your heart