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Money Can Buy You Love: Donate and Fight Breastcancer

I don’t have a personal breast cancer story to tug at your heart strings. Trust me, I’d use one if I could. In fact, I’m one of the only people out there who hasn’t lost someone to breast cancer. Not yet, anyway. I do have an aunt who beat breast cancer (I think), but we don’t talk much about that sort of thing in my family. My husband lost his grandmother to the disease before he was born and one of his eight aunts (on his father’s side alone!) is a breast cancer survivor. (Another aunt is currently battling vaginal cancer.)

I do know, however, that the Canadian Cancer Society says that in 2009, “An estimated 22,700 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer and 5,400 will die of it.” In Canada alone. (Add another 192,370 diagnoses, and 40,170 deaths in the United States according to the National Cancer Institute.) That’s a lot of people. It is the leading type of cancer among women and one in nine woman will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime. So, no, I haven’t lost anyone to breast cancer. Not yet.

I also happen to live in a city that is home to the Princess Margaret Hospital (PMH) — the largest cancer-specific institution in the country and a top five ranking hospital for cancer research in the world. The Campbell Family Institue for Breast Cancer Research is supported by the PMH and is a world leader in cancer research and continues to break new ground in breast cancer research, treatment and studies. It all costs money, though. Does the institute have enough money? Not yet.

For the past four years I have been inspired by a team of women in my husband’s family who have participated in the Weekend to End Breast Cancer. Led by my sister-in-law, Tara Keenan, the Keenans and the Crew For the Cure have raised over $80,000 for breast cancer research. ($30.5 million have been raised since 2004 in total.) First, each individual needs to raise at least $2000 worth of donations and then they walk. And walk. They walk 60km and it takes two days.  Get 4757 women walking together through the streets of Toronto — that’s how you raise awareness. I hear it’s a life changing experience, but I wouldn’t know. Not yet.

The treatment and detection of breast cancer is evolving by leaps and bounds. Women who would have faced certain death a decade ago can now fight for survival. We can screen for genetics and breathe a sigh of relief if we don’t have the breast cancer gene. If. I don’t have a personal story of breast cancer loss, no. But I do have a baby girl. When she grows up she will likely have a one in nine chance of developing breast cancer. I don’t like those odds. I don’t think I want to take that bet. So let me see how much money I can wring out of you fine people. Let’s see just how far our research dollars can take us. No, we don’t have a cure. Not yet.


Here’s the thing, though. The Weekend To End Breast Cancer is September 12 -13 which is less than a month away. I need to raise $2000 by then and my own funds are already earmarked for the groceries. So I really, really need you to move on this. Here’s how it works: follow this link here (or click through the pretty button on the sidebar) and donate to my fundraising efforts. Just in case the satisfaction of fighting cancer is not enough … I will, in return, not only walk like crazy for two days, but I will fundraise like crazy for three weeks. I will beg and plead and otherwise persuade business people to donate prizes to my cause. Every $20 donated will get one entry into a draw to be held on Thursday Sept. 10. Be sure to include your contact info in the message portion of the donation so I can get your prize to you.

Check back for an updated list of prizes as they come in.

I would also love to hear your breast cancer stories in my comments section. (Or just link to them if you’d like.) Oh, and tell your friends, why don’t you?

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One of These Things Doesn’t Belong Here

DAILY SNACK

You Tube is my generation of parents’ video store.

Suddenly we can find programs that we remember loving as kids and share them with our own children.

My Dad loved renting movies he hadn’t seen for years and watching them with us.

(He still does, actually.)

Young C and I found this gem on You Tube the other day:

We followed that up with a few others on that theme,

And then played our own games sorting stuff from around the house.

It was edutainment!

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She Draws, He Draws

DAILY SNACK

Young C seems to go through kicks,

Know what I mean?

Like he’ll be really into reading books and drawing for a while,

And then suddenly not at all and he’s moved onto cars and trucks and dinosaurs.

Now that we’re housebound during Reenie’s morning nap,

And I need to use that time to do some work,

I just let him play with his cars and animals.

And I enrolled him in an arts-based nursery school two mornings a week to make up for it.

So I wasn’t exactly sure how far his artistic skills had developed,

But I knew we were light-years away from real likenesses.

So when Sylvie posted her three-year-old daughter’s picture on Facebook,

I was floored.

Those are clearly her parents.

(For those of you who don’t know them.)

They even have bodies!

My curiosity piqued,

I lured Young C over to the chalkboard,

And talked him through drawing a person.

3 year old boy's drawing

It’s a self-portrait, of course, with extra-bonus chin hair.

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Open Season, Finally

DAILY SNACK

wading

Isn’t this is so much better than this?

About frigging time.

Now it’s all about dodging rain clouds.

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Don’t Fight the Weather

DAILY SNACK

For two summers running,

We have enjoyed dropping into the High Park swimming pool weekend afternoons.

They have a wading shallow end for little tots,

And a splash pad, too.

After a month of pool closures,

You know I was heading straight there first chance we got.

So it happens that we wrestle a three-year-old and a baby into suits,

Put on our own bathing gear,

Cram massive amounts of crap into a little change room locker,

And hit the deck.

Did you know how cold it was on Saturday?

Did you know that it needs to be fairly hot out to comfortably enjoy an outdoor pool?

So we froze our legs off in the shallow end for a little while.

And Ed showed the kids how he can dive into the deep end.

And we called it a day.

But I would do it again in a heartbeat.

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“Reading” Won’t Do Anymore

DAILY SNACK

Six months ago,

Young C used to love reading.

He would happily sit by himself and flip through book after book.

The stories he knew well would be read aloud.

Not anymore.

Now he complains, “I don’t know the words.”

“I cannot read words in books.”

I know this must be a sign of development.

He is now that much more aware of the printed words,

He knows they are comprised of letters and sounds.

He knows those letters and sounds,

But he can’t yet read the words.

So he is frustrated.

Still, it feels like we are moving backwards.

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Wake and Go

DAILY SNACK

This morning, like every morning,

I suggested Young C visit the bathroom.

His response:

“It’s okay, Mommy. I already went to the bathroom this day at my nursery school.”

C hasn’t been to nursery school for six days;

They are on holiday.

I suggest that he must have had a dream about his nursery school.

“No, Mom. I ALREADY told you! I went to the bathroom at my nursery school.

They have a curtain for a door.”

Oh … a curtain for a door.

I didn’t know he had that kind of proof. Fine.

We made half way through breakfast before the mad dash to the bathroom.

But he made it.

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Politeness Starts At Home

DAILY SNACK

Is there any chance that my children

Will ever develop proper table manners

When their mother indulges them

In a beatbox competition at the breakfast table?

Okay, fine.

When their mother teaches them

About beatboxing at the breakfast table?

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Tats For Tots

DAILY SNACK

First Tatoo

Reenie and I had just picked up Young C from nursery school,

And we were headed to the park.

“Hey, what’s that on your arm? Did somebody dab you with a paint brush?

Or is it a tattoo?”

“What?” And he looks at his arm.

Huge grin.

“It’s blue just like Dad’s!”

Huh.

“Well, Dad’s doesn’t come off. Yours will wash off in the bath.”

Cue whining.

“But I don’t waaaant it to waaash off! I’m not washing my own arm!”

Tattoos.

I thought we might reach four years of age before that became an issue.

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Pretty Sure This is Not Covered By the Warranty

DAILY SNACK

Maclaren Fits Two

Why did I spring for a double stroller?

And then it rained.

snacks-004

Oh my sleepy sweeties.