As a mother, I am guilty of comparing myself to other mothers, and sometimes judgement follows. Sometimes it is judgement towards myself (Why can’t I be more patient with my kids like that other mother at the park?), and sometimes my judgement is directed towards another mom (Wow, she sure lets her kids run the show!) But when I’m in a good healthy state of mind, I focus on learning from the mothers around me. I observe their empathetic language and attempt to use that same tone when my child is having a meltdown rather than fueling the tantrum with my own frustration. I observe how they put away their cell phones, and get down in the sand to build a sand castle with their child at the beach, and I feel encouraged to fully engage with my own children.
Most recently, I’ve been learning some amazing lessons about motherhood from a fellow blogger, Holly Bonner, author of “Blind Motherhood”. I’ve gleaned so much from this honest, witty, unstoppable mama, and knew instantly that our readers would want to meet her, too. If you haven’t met before, I’m pleased to introduce you to Holly Bonner.
Blind Motherhood by Holly Bonner
Welcome to Blindmotherhood.com! I’m Holly Bonner, a 36 year old, wife, mother and social worker! After completing chemotherapy for breast cancer in 2012, I became legally blind from a neurological condition. Thrust into a much darker world, I went from the role of social work practitioner to the part of disabled client in need of services. With months of training in technology, mobility and ADL (adult daily living) skills; I finally began to feel like I could confidently rejoin the land of the living with my trusty white cane by my side. Then, what doctors had said was impossible happened, I got pregnant! Doctors….LOL! What do they know, right? Continue reading “Blind Motherhood”
Like most guide dogs, Roja does great on car rides, though our family’s recent 4-day excursion from Illinois to California really put us to the test. As we enter spring and summer and the season of road trips, I thought I’d pass along some travel tips I learned along the way!
1. Prep and pack well. Lay the essentials out the night before you leave, to ensure you don’t forget any of your precious pup’s items. Be sure to include: food, dog bowls (collapsible travel bowls if you’re tight on car space), dog bed/rug/crate (depending on preference and space, harness, leash, grooming kit for teeth and hair, small toy or bone, gentle leader, a tie down, and poop bags. You may also want to pack special high-reward treats if you foresee transition issues. And if you don’t already have bottled water packed for yourself, make sure to at least pack some for your pup. You can certainly get water at rest stops, but if you’re trying to make good time on the road, the stops might be few and far between.
I did remember to pack most of Roja’s items but I made the mistake of not condensing them to one bag, which made it difficult to locate items, such as the grooming kit, when I needed them.
2. Avoid areas that may contain ticks and fleas. One of my friend’s pet dogs contracted Lyme disease from a tick at a rest area en route to California a few years ago. As you encounter new terrain, especially at rest stops in rural or wooded areas, ticks can be a concern. The risk of pesky fleas or even Lyme diseases may be higher than you’re used to in your area. If your dog is pretty good at relieving on pavement, that’s your best bet. If they prefer grass or shrubs, try to stay close to the building and in lower, mowed grass.
3. Be wary of shady gas stations in the middle of nowhere. We learned this in the middle of New Mexico. As we started to exit our Subaru, a stray dog came running up to Roja, and since my husband wasn’t sure whether this dog would be friendly with Roja (or was even vaccinated!), he quickly put Roja back in the car, closing her tail in the door. Since Roja is so quiet, we didn’t even know it was stuck until our 6-year-old, who was next to Roja, started sobbing. “Mom! Rojas tail is in the door!” Since my husband was using the restroom, I opened the door to free her tail, which was just enough time for the mangy stray to jump in our car. I tried to lift the filthy dog out, but it wriggled out of my grasp. I opened the door, and both dogs ran out. I finally reigned Roja back in and then used the bathroom, which had the distinct smell of a barnyard. Oh, and the gas pumped so slow at this station that it had only reached $5.00 worth of guess in the 20 minutes we were there! And that’s what you may encounter in rural New Mexico!
4. Doggie breath mints and water should be within arm’s reach at all times. Roja doesn’t typically have very bad breath, at least not like some of my friends’ dogs. But the combination of anxiety over traveling and the disruption of regular feeding/water schedule must produce some extra toxins because her breath was rancid! Roja was directly behind me, at my daughters’ feet, and I could always tell when her velvety head had poked up between our seats to say hello, as the stench of dead fish wafted over the center console. Unfortunately, I did not pack any greenies. I did brush her teeth one night at the hotel, which helped, but I wished I had something to just pop in her mouth in the car!
By day two, I learned to have her water dish with a bottle of water at my feet so that I could put water on the console at a moment’s notice, as she didn’t always want to drink at rest stops but then would end up panting between stops. Originally, we were keeping her dog bowl in the very back behind the suitcases, which was impossible to access unless we were stopped.
Hope these are helpful! Happy travels!
My friends have always played an important part in my journey through life. In college, time with girlfriends often involved dressing up in black pants paired with a flirty top to explore Seattle’s night life. Over the years it evolved into meeting up for martinis after work, and flying to Vegas for bachelorette parties. These days, we often opt for yoga pants and a bottle of wine in someone’s quiet, childless living room while pretending to discuss a book that no one actually finished reading. And I picture my future self with these same “girls”, sharing photos of grandkids while drinking tea following a 4 o’clock supper date. Continue reading “Friendship & Yet Another Airport Tale”
If you or a loved one has a disability, you’ve probably encountered many wonderful, helpful people. You’ve probably also encountered some, shall, we say, overly helpful folks?
Being legally blind, I usually have no shortage of helpers while out in public with my cane or guide dog. “Can I get that door for you?” “Can I grab some silverware from the buffet for you?” “May I assist you with reading that menu?”
Most of these are what I’d consider helpful gestures, and I sometimes take people up on their offers if my hands are full juggling children and leashes, and other times I politely decline the offer, and all is well. Every once in awhile, however, I find myself in a code red, help-aholic situation.
Like a couple weeks ago at yoga. I was attending a class with an absolutely amazing teacher at a studio that I practice at regularly. I arrived two minutes before class was starting, which really isn’t ideal when you have a guide dog to get situated, a mat to roll out and yoga props to gather. To make matters more challenging, the tiny room was packed with people.
Upon our arrival, everyone began maneuvering themselves around to make room for us, and a couple of my classmates who know me well offered to grab my props while I got situated.
“Oh my gosh, thank you!” I breathed a sigh of relief. Just then a voice popped up next to me.
“Hi, I’m Marcy and I went ahead and folded your blanket and put your water bottle at 2 o’clock. I also took your dog’s leash and tucked it behind her because I didn’t want it to get in your way.”
“Oh thanks. Nice to meet you.” I stammered, slightly taken aback that she had touched my things without asking. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, however, so maybe she just saw others being helpful and thought she’d do the same. I got into Child’s Pose and hoped for the best.
“Today we’re going to start with a gentle twist,” stated Greg, our instructor, “Begin by crossing your right leg over…..”
“Here, like this!” Marcy interrupted loudly, touching my right leg. “Put that leg over the other one and wrap it around.”
Twists usually are confusing for me (so much leg criss-crossing, and I don’t listen very well for a blind chic!), but I usually eventually figure it out. Apparently I was not getting into the pose fast enough for Marcy.
I quickly got into the correct twist position, but then missed Greg’s next instruction while Marcy was loudly instructing me, and I couldn’t see what pose Greg was moving into.
“We are on all fours now!” Marcy did not excel at whispering.
Oh, Table Pose. I knew that one. “Now we’re going to go into a gentle downward dog,” Greg continued. Oh good, I know how to do that well, but I usually like to do a cat/cow or two before getting into my down dog. Greg always encourages his students to listen to what their bodies are telling them to do, so I make slight variations and add in poses at times.
“Downward dog is where you….” Marcy began. She was not okay with variations.
“Yeah I know,” I whispered, trying to get back into my yoga zone as I moved fluidly into my down-dog. There, now Marcy could see that I knew what I was doing.
But her little “helpful” interjections continued. I found myself trying to speed quickly into each pose, for fear that Marcy would loudly offer her assistance if I didn’t high-tail it into Warrior I. Occasionally, instructors come around and readjust students, and I really don’t mind when they adjust me or give reminders. They are, after all, the instructors, and most do it in a way that still honors the individual practice. But Marcy was not only not honoring my practice….she was missing out on her own.
“Remember to play with these poses and have fun,” Greg told our class gently, “It’s your own, individual practice, so try to go inward and sense what your body needs.”
Yo, Marcy, he’s talking to you.
But Marcy was too busy observing my Wounded Warrior to listen to Greg’s gentle reminder.
I, too, was having trouble focusing. All I could think about was how pushy Marcy was with her help. And the feelings it brought up were very familiar to me. It didn’t feel like Marcy’s help was about me at all. The whole thing felt like it was very much about her need to be a helper.
Marcy had a need to be needed, and I was filling that need perfectly.
I’d like to say that I came up with some catch-all, perfect phrase to get Marcy off my case (or, more specifically, off my mat), but I couldn’t quite stop in the middle of class to hold a help-aholic intervention. If I was going to enjoy the rest of my yoga class, I knew I needed to do what the mighty yogis teach: Be mindful and ignore the chatter. Not just Marcy’s outward chatter, but the conversation going on in my mind about Marcy and how annoyingly helpful she was.
I began to listen only to the calming music playing through Greg’s iPod. I closed my eyes and listened to his instructions, and when Marcy would start doing her thing, I simply focused entirely on my breath and tuned her out. I didn’t whisper thank you. Nor did I whisper shut up. I just inhaled and exhaled. And you know what? After awhile, I didn’t have to ignore anything because Marcy had ceased her chatter.
I think there is a time to confront and be straightforward with people. But I also think there is a time to be quiet and remember that their issue with over-helping has nothing to do with you. It’s about them, and sometimes you need to allow them the space to figure it out on their own. After all, isn’t that what you want from them?
Thank you, Marcy, for teaching me an important lesson. Namasté.
Last week, following the popular “8 Things” post we were contacted by the amazing folks at AMI Radio, based in Toronto, for a 10-minute LIVE chat! on Retinitis Pigmentosa. With 5 million listeners, these guys don’t mess around! Clearly, the hosts had done their research on our site, resulting in some fantastic questions! Joy did the interview, but they still found a way to include a few sound bytes from Jenelle’s “Thank you notes” Enjoy!
1. It usually occurs slowly. While there are some people who go blind overnight or in a matter of days, such as with detached retinas, following eye surgeries, or with certain types of Glaucoma, the vast majority of people with degenerative diseases such as Retinitis Pigmentosa and Macular Degeneration, lose their sight gradually, over a period of many years.
2. Just because our vision changes doesn’t mean our interests do. Some people assume that certain hobbies that are sight-related, such as sports, fashion, makeup, woodworking, etc are no longer interesting or feasible after vision loss. This simply isn’t true. There’s nothing worse than a group of friends assuming that you no longer want to go on your annual bike-riding trip, aren’t interested in watching a football game together, or don’t enjoy shopping with them anymore. Yes, some things may change, such as needing to use a tandem bicycle or a tether for running side-by-side or audio descriptions for movies, but these activities can still be very fun. There are always ways to compensate and adapt when it comes to the activities we love. I have a friend who is completely blind from RP and recently refinished his basement alongside his son, even handcrafting a beautiful wet bar, all without sight. I’ve heard of auto mechanics who can no longer drive but still find ways to work on cars. When someone has a talent or interest, they find a way to continue doing it.
3. It can feel socially isolating. Think of all the social interactions that you use your vision for, from greeting your neighbor across the way to commenting on someone’s clothing. From college students bonding over late night activities around campus to parents observing their kids’ soccer games, some of these experiences can feel a bit awkward for people losing their vision. While we can still participate in many of the same activities, some of the commentary involved in a shared visual experience is missed. Sometimes we feel like we have to fake “ooh-ing” and “aw-ing” over that cute or funny scene everyone is pointing at, lest we feel out of the loop. We can’t dart from person to person at a party, spotting friends across the room. Some of this is unavoidable, but friends and family who go out of their way in social settings can make a huge difference. Even when we can’t spot you in public, we still appreciate being acknowledged and greeted. For example. I love it when a parent of someone in my daughter’s kindergarten class comes up to me in the grocery store and tells me who they are, even if I’ve met them before, and starts a conversation. I can’t stand it when someone tells me, after the fact, that they were near me in a public setting, “Oh, I saw you at the movie theater last week,” but didn’t make their presence known at the time. It’s a weird feeling when people can spot you but you’re not able to see them. It can leave you feeling self-conscious and awkward. When someone passes me and just says, “Hi Joy!” without identifying themselves, I sometimes spend the next 10 minutes trying to figure out who it was. On the flip side, when someone says, “Hi Joy, it’s Lindsay!” I can ask how her daughter is or spout off a relevant comment, which is what people who are fully sighted do regularly in their social lives without even thinking about it.
4. The things we can and cannot see are sometimes confusing, even for us. I can’t always explain why I can’t figure out what a picture that someone texts me is of but can read the print caption that goes along with the photo. Perhaps it has something to do with visual memory of letters and how my brain fills in the gaps, even when parts of those letters are missing. Or maybe it’s the contrast or the size and color of the photo that makes a difference. Whatever it is, it can be difficult to explain to people and could even appear phony, like I have “selective sight”, but anyone who knows me well understands and doesn’t give it a second thought. My younger sister, who works on a cruise ship, overheard one of her coworkers complaining about a passenger who had requested vision-related assistance but then appeared to be looking at something. The co-worker assumed the person was lying about their poor eyesight, but my sister grew up watching her 2 older twin sisters struggle with vision loss and quickly told her co-worker that the passenger might need help seeing some things but not others. Vision loss is not always a concrete, black-and-white picture for people losing their sight. Take colors, for example, I can identify most colors in a general sense but often can’t distinguish between blue and green, red and orange, purple and brown, or even between yellow and white.
5. We can have “bad” and “good” vision days. Sometimes it depends on how sunny or cloudy it is outside. Other times it depends on eye strain, the time of day, lighting inside vs. outside, and even how many trees or landscaping are around casting shadows, causing my eyes to play lots and lots of tricks on me.
6. It’s not something most of us dwell on daily. Gradual degeneration is a lot like aging. You don’t look in the mirror every single day, inspecting every new wrinkle, exclaiming, “I’m getting older!” just like I don’t stare at eye charts constantly, noticing every little change. Also similar to aging, most people don’t just wake up one day and realize that they’re a senior citizen….you realize that you’re aging at various points in your life, sometimes because of an event such as a milestone birthday, but other times you just notice yourself looking or feeling older from time to time. Typically, vision loss is similar. There are times I’ve gone to the eye doctor and been surprised at my change in vision because I hadn’t noticed it happening to the extent that it dropped, despite the fact that I could tell it was worsening. Other times, I notice the drop and am not surprised in the least when the Ophthalmologist shows me my test results.
7. Some of us use mobility aids like canes and dogs and some of us don’t. There are people who have the exact same vision who move about the world completely differently. There can be 2 people who both have 19 degrees of vision, deeming them both “legally” blind, and one of them uses a white cane while the other walks around without any mobility tool. If there is someone in your life who you feel like should be using a mobility assistance but doesn’t, it’s usually a realization they need to come to on their own, something through a few bumps, bruises and embarrassing moments. No one can be persuaded through guilt or fear to get assistance. Even among those who are completely blind, not everyone uses a cane or dog. Some, for example, use echolocation. It’s a personal preference. A common misconception when someone begins using a cane is that they just had a major drop in their vision. Sometimes this is the case, but many times the person is just sick of tripping over things and is ready for some help.
8. Most of us lead regular, happy lives. After doing a presentation about my vision at my niece’s school recently, a couple of her classmates came up to her at recess and said, “We feel so bad for your aunt! It’s so sad, and we almost cried during her talk!” Hearing this made me feel like I didn’t really do a great job conveying how much I love my life during my presentation. It made me decide to start my school presentations by telling the kids to smile and laugh because my story is not a sad one. Yes, I have dealt with my share of sadness over having RP. No one likes the idea of losing one of the 5 senses, especially the one that society places the most importance on, but sadness is definitely not the word that comes up for me when thinking about my life. Challenge? Sure. Adventure? Yep. Fringe benefits? Yes please. Joy? Absolutely.
When you’re done crying over RP, there are so many things to laugh at. (i.e. On a recent trip to Chicago, I reached out to press the crosswalk signal button and began pressing on a man’s arm instead, much to his surprise. You can’t tell me that’s not laugh-out-loud funny!) While studies show that people who are blind or visually impaired do tend to have more nightmares, due to anxieties that sighted people don’t face, apparently these added anxieties do not have bearing on a happy, fulfilling life, as happiness studies find that blind people are just as happy as sighted folks. Helen Keller sums this up best, “I can see, and that is why I can be happy, in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. “
by Roja Thomas (Joy’s guide dog)
When I wake up in the morning, I run in circles 90 mph until I almost fall over (don’t judge). Joy and her kids laugh really hard when I do this, and hearing their laughter makes me prance around the house like an even bigger maniac. I love when Joy’s kids are home, and especially when they have lots of friends over after school. There’s nothing I love more than a house full of rowdy children. Except when one of them pulls my tail (true story ahead!). Continue reading “Roja Exclusive: Children, Rules and Tail Pulling”
I’m thrilled to introduce one of my newest blogger friends, Stephanae McCoy from Bold, Blind, Beauty. This post could not have come at a better time for me. I was just starting the dreaded task of freshening up my closet in honor of the new year when Steph shared this post with me. These are tips I definitely needed!
Wardrobe Woes? Conquering the Chaos
by Stephanae McCoy
Every day it’s the same drill: You shut off the annoying alarm, contemplate getting up, contemplate calling off work, get up, put on the coffee, use the comfort station (fancy description for toilet), take your shower, contemplate calling off work again, consume first cup of java, do hair, do makeup, inhale deeply, then open the closet.
It’s full of all sorts of clothes, yet you still have not a blessed thing to wear. “What to do?” you ask yourself for the millionth time, as you once again contemplate calling off work one last time. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is gonna work today. “I hate my wardrobe!” you mutter as you angrily stomp away to grab another cup of coffee while you think about what to wear.
If this situation sounds vaguely familiar you can rest assured this is a global phenomenon faced by women and yes, men, the world over. There are many reasons why we find ourselves in this predicament but today’s focus is going to be on how to rectify the issue and it’s gonna take some fearlessness. Are you ready? Let’s do this!
Before diving into a full-blown evaluation of the contents within your wardrobe it’s helpful to have an end goal in mind. You can ask yourself questions like:
After you’ve answered these questions begin the assessment in your closet by taking out all of your go-to pieces and set them aside. This is easy because you constantly use all of these things therefore they are within reach.
Go back to your closet and remove the remaining items, one piece at a time to decide if each will be tossed, donated and/or sold. It isn’t easy but this is where you have to be brutally honest.
Remember that gorgeous jumpsuit you bought two years ago that you just had to have but never wore? Well here it is, in pristine condition (with tags even), hanging there just as lonely and dejected as an extrovert in forced solitary confinement during spring break.
Then there’s those fabulous skinny jeans that are just a wee bit snug (originally retailed in the triple digits but you scored them for 50 bucks), every time you look at them they scream at you LOSE weight!! Who needs psychological abuse from a pair of jeans? Send them packing because here’s the thing, you understand that looking put together means wearing clothes that fit well.
Bottom line, you’re going to give, sell or toss the remainder of the closet. Yes, there can be an emotional attachment to the things you own, so to assist you in getting through this process it’s important to be objective, honest and do not linger over your decisions.
Do the setting aside of the go-tos, toss, donate and/or sell routine with your dresser, chest of drawers, armoire (wherever you store clothing). Depending on the amount of garments you own and how dedicated you are to change, this could take a few hours, days or (and I shudder to think about it), weeks.
Immediately toss the dated, damaged or otherwise unwanted clothing. You now have two categories left: sell and donate.
A word on selling: When you opt to sell your clothing there are several options available:
If you are going to be selling any of your clothing to a consignment retailer, you’ll want to check their policies on acceptable items (some will only accept designer labels). Recently I chose to sell some clothing to ThredUp and because of the quantity of items, I took pictures (for my records) of each piece prior to shipment.
Okay, so let’s review: You’ve tossed the tossables, bagged the sellables and by now are packing up the donatables.
Remember how I said we would look at your go-tos in a bit? Okay, now’s the time to appraise your favorite clothes. Do they still fit well? Could they use some altering? Are they worn or damaged due to wear and tear? Ultimately you want to see what needs to be replaced and act accordingly.
If you keep only those things that you love you will be getting more value out of your investment. Plus, the added bonus of feeling fabulous is priceless!
Continue reading “Guest Post: Closet Makeover with Stephanae McCoy”
I pride myself on being able to do things just as well, if not better, than fully sighted moms. I blog about how much confidence I’ve gained with my new guide dog and other blindness-related training. And I speak at schools about how I don’t let my failing vision get in my way, especially when it comes to being a mom. .
So, of course, when my 5 and 9-year-old daughters asked to go to the city for the day and my husband couldn’t accompany us, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
With my new Uber and Lyft apps, I figured transportation would be even easier than cabs, especially since I’d had such good luck with both of these ride services in the burbs.
I’d gone to the city twice with my guide dog, Roja, by myself, so I figured adding a couple kids in tow wouldn’t make a huge difference. And for the most part, it didn’t.
But the thing about kids is that they have a lot of requests. They get hungry. They want to go skating. They have to use the bathroom. They like to buy things. They enjoy exploring. They like to play at city parks in January and don’t realize that they’re nearly frostbitten until they’re nearly frostbitten. You get the idea.
The train ride to the city was a breeze, but as soon as we set foot into the bustling Windy City, Calm, Together Mommy was replaced by Anxious, Frazzled Mommy.
And so begin my confessions:
#1 – I confess that, while fumbling for the soap dispenser in the public restroom, I poked an oddly placed outlet instead, nearly electrocuting myself (note to self: do not wet hand until after locating soap).
#2 – I confess that, after Lyft’s GPS pinned our location incorrectly, I couldn’t explain to the driver on the phone where to find us, because I had no idea where we were (fortunately, a frantic mom with a guide dog calling out, “Excuse me! What cross street am I on?” elicits a nice response from passerby).
#3 – I confess that I did a little dance with a blind guy on the street corner, me not seeing his cane and he not noticing my guide dog. It was only later that night that my 9-year-old informed me I’d tangoed with a blind man.
#4- I confess that I got stuck in a revolving door with my guide dog (I must’ve missed that lesson during guide dog training?).
#5 – I confess that I knocked over a display at the American Girl Store (it probably needed some spiffing up anyhow, right?)
#6 – I confess that I couldn’t get Roja to get out of an Uber car and that the frustrated driver had to push her out.
#7 – I confess that I paraded my daughters to the wrong end of the train station on the way home and that we almost boarded an Amtrak to Kalamazoo.
#8 – I confess that I bought an entire bag of donut holes at the train station and binge ate them on the ride home.
#9 – I confess that I didn’t notice Roja’s tail was sticking out in the train aisle until it got stepped on (when a woman is focused on her donuts, attention to detail wanes).
#10 – I confess that, despite all of the above, I’d do it all over again. I’d rather be a clunky mom out in the world than a smooth one holed up at home.
