Jennifer Maggiore

Reflecting on 5 Fucking Years

// January 11th, 2012 // 5 Comments » // attitude, behavior, brain tumor, Spirituality

Two days ago I went to pick up Matteo and the owner of his school came out to see me at carpool- “So, since Matteo is turning 5 tomorrow, he told us he wanted to start using ‘big boy’ language — he used the word ‘fucking’ today.” She handed me the incident report and I waffled between being defensive (well he clearly didn’t learn that from me) and… realistic. He even used it the right way, “I don’t care about your fucking toy.” Ouch. Yep, my fucking bad.

We had the obligatory conversation:
Me How did it make you feel to say something so mean?
Him Bad
Me How do you think it made your friend feel?
Him Bad
Me How do you think hearing this makes me feel?
Him Mad
Me Will you ever do it again?
Him No

I could hardly be mad though, this kid is more like me than I am. He is like me on steroids; he isn’t taking shit from anyone, not ever, he does as he pleases when he pleases, when he wants something there is no stopping him… he is ferociously vivacious or vivaciously ferocious depending on his mood (and always with a sparkle in his eyes). But he is also one of the most sensitive, loving people I’ve ever known, with a deeper connection to The Universe and people around him than you could imagine a 5 year old to have.

Truth is, I wasn’t upset (for the record I told him that if he does it again, he’ll get in trouble twice, once for this time and once for the second time). Maybe I should have been more disapproving, but I can’t help but admire his attitude- maybe the moment called for fucking. It happens. It happens to me all the time.

I love that he is a scrappy little punk with a heart of gold- I am convinced it is the reason he survived a massive brain tumor. One day he seemed like a big healthy boy, the next he was complaining of headaches and vomiting until we took him to the ER, and then the events came upon us like waves knocking us down and pulling us under over and over. He was not quite 3 years old and he had a tumor the size of a racquetball in his little head, he was shuttled to another hospital by ambulance, admitted into PICU, and scheduled for what would be an 8 hour surgery the next morning starting at 7:30am. He came back to us with a puffy face from laying face down all day, and with a raspy voice from being intubated. He had a large (but surprisingly good looking) scar down the back of his head, and his body was weak and wracked with pain. The occupational therapists came the morning after surgery to get him moving and it was terribly painful for us to see his pain- one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do was feel that pain and keep an unafraid face in front of him (not brave, I was happy to just pull off unafraid). It is the most unnatural state of being… And yet, three days after this massive surgery, nurses were reminding him not to run in the hallways. You know what that is? That’s a kid who says “fucking”, I’m fucking running through these fucking hallways after fucking brain surgery.

I look back admiringly at this little boy, who graced our lives 5 years ago when he was born. It felt like something so special and so sweet had never happened before that day, it sharply focused our attention and rearranged our priorities, it demanded that we find and keep our spiritual connections so that we could be the kind of parents someone so special would deserve. By the time he turned one, he was signing and speaking- some may say that it’s because he is advanced, I say it’s because there was no way in hell that kid was going to go one day longer than he had to without telling us what was on his mind. He has continued to pleasantly surprise us over the years, he is tenacious and engaging, and absolutely nothing will steer him off course.

So, no, I’m not too worried; I would be an idiot not to expect colorful language from such a unique and colorful character. I mean, in reality, how fantastic that I gave birth to that?! Hopefully this doesn’t seem like I am letting him get away with murder because I feel sorry for him and all he’s been through. I don’t, because I can tell you honestly that I don’t feel sorry for him. I totally admire him, and hope to be like him when I grow up <3

Will Work For Group Health Insurance

// November 29th, 2011 // 1 Comment » // Arthritis/Health, brain tumor, insurance, Work/Marketing

This blog title is not a joke. (Attention Big Companies, will trade brilliant consulting in exchange for paying my premium on your stellar group plan :D <—- charming, sexy smile. Calll meeee….).

Want to hear something disgusting? My health insurance premiums through Cigna are rising 44% starting in January (yes, as in just over a month away, thanks for all the advance notice Cigna, and right after the holidays, SO SUPER CONVENIENT). I’m fucked. My rate is going from $395.55 a month to $569.59 a  month. And, don’t forget the $20/month administrative fee. Oh, and one more thing, it’s also a high deductible health plan (which has its tax benefit, but GEEZ, I have to come out of pocket for $3,000 up front each year + $7,075.08 in monthly premiums, not to mention the co-pays…). I’m lucky (knocking on wood enthusiastically)- my business is healthy, but my income is as “secure” as everyone else these days, and I shutter to think about what the premiums will be in 2013- are they going to finally outpace the growth of my income?

I’m a member of the AZ Small Business Association, the only provider of group health benefits for the self employed in the state of AZ. Feels strange to say, but I’m actually fortunate to have this insanely expensive insurance- I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and without a group plan I’d have nothing (I’m an “automatic denial” for individual plans because of my pre-existing condition). At this point I’m wondering if I’d be better off cancelling my insurance and going self-pay, but I also have a 4 year old that survived an absurdly expensive emergency surgery to remove a large brain tumor when he was 2 years old (nothing like depending on the kindness of your amazing sister in law to raise funds through a community garage sale to avoid the brink of medical bankruptcy. It’s so awweessommmeee). So, I know that sometimes shit happens, and usually when you least expect it… How do you reason with yourself that you should drop your insurance, knowing that you’re then just one medical catastrophe away from a financial catastrophe?

Right now in the background there is a story, on Rock Center w/ Brian Williams, of a couple who had to accept food stamps in order to make ends meet. Mom had to tell her son sorry, “I don’t have $10 for you to buy the book at your school’s book fair because we’re in between paydays. But one day I’ll get you that book” (yeah, she and her husband are actually both employed but still aren’t making it, these are not deadbeats). Another mom hopes that their financial situation improves before her child is old enough to ask to do things like playing sports because otherwise her only alternative is “what do we have in the house that we can sell?” when he needs something besides food and clothes.

I’m sure that our CIGNA group plan isn’t the only one experiencing increases- its frightening because all you hear about is how tough it is, how people are struggling. And in some ways the economy has gotten better, but in many ways for many people it is just getting worse. I realize that I’m far from in bad shape when I hear the stories of those moms. Hubby and I have been around the block enough by now to know that we will figure it out, do without some other convenience or luxury, find another way to grow our businesses to create the income. But my God, it makes me take pause, fills me with worry, and I have to wonder, what next? This shit is spiraling. out. of. control. And ain’t no government plan or politician gonna fix it. The solution to today’s economic train wreck is in encouraging the small business community to flourish, you know, the same people we are currently slowly choking to death with things like taxes and lack of healthcare coverage.

What I Want You to Know About My Sister

// October 8th, 2011 // 7 Comments » // death

It’s hard to know where to begin when talking about my sister, her life and her death, my relationship with her.

She somehow managed to be both one of the most complicated and one of the most simple people I’ve ever known. She got caught up in a lot of problems early in life, some were circumstances that were put upon her, some were situations brought on by her own choice. At the same time, she genuinely cared for her family and the people around her, she asked for her nephews and niece every time my brother and I spoke with her and she’d give you the shirt off her back.

I didn’t speak to her much in the years leading up to  her passing- she and I were very close at one time and the path she chose took her far from me. When my dad married her mom, she was two years old and I was twelve. I remember going with her to gymnastics and screaming the lyrics of some song to each other in the parking lot- “I saiiiidddddd I LOVE YOU babbbyyyyyy!!” over and over and laughing our heads off. When I left for college, we’d talk on the phone for hours about boys and clothes and friends.

As she got older, tensions between she and my parents grew. She’d begun running away from home for days at a time and we suspected she was using drugs. By the time she was in high school she was in and out of teen programs. At one point, my husband and I considered becoming her guardians at the advice of a social worker but that didn’t work out (and in retrospect I’m not sure it was what she needed anyway). She’d stay with us for several days at a time because I didn’t want her at home fighting with our parents, and I didn’t want her on the streets, or worse, taking refuge with strangers.

Things finally came to a head when I found out I was pregnant with my first child- I couldn’t put anyone before my baby anymore. I couldn’t do the sleepless nights or tear-filled days of worry anymore, or the constant conflict I was in with the rest of my family for what they perceived as rescuing her. Other than at rare family gatherings, I didn’t talk to my sister for the last 5 years.

A week before she died she called me. She’d just come back from a rehab program in Tucson and sounded really good- she had a clear head, she was listening as much as she was talking and she was asking if I’d be willing to work on our relationship. I was so glad she called, and I told her that we had a long journey to getting back to where we were, but yes, I also wanted to work on our relationship. We concluded that we’d talk again soon, told each other “I love you” before hanging up.

This past Friday I was at the office when my brother called and told me they’d called 911 when she was still sleeping and unresponsive mid-day that day. She’d been taken to the hospital where she was on a respirator and still unconscious, that they were being told that she was not well. I wrapped some things up and went across town to meet them. When I arrived it was obvious to me that she was not going to recover. My stepmom argued over Ziba’s bed with doctors about doing some procedure and having her air vaced to another hospital where it would be performed. My dad was somber and tearful, my brother and I tried to make sense of it all and have hope.

On Saturday at the second hospital, the room was eerily silent except for the sound of the respirator, her body was still but for her chest rising and falling. My parents had already been there since the wee hours, and I told them to go home and get some rest, that I would stay. For the next 6 hours, specialists came and went telling me one variation or another of “she has a 5% chance of survival”. Our worst nightmare was actually happening, my sister was not going to live. I was not going to get to scold her about making changes and living her life right this time. She was experiencing multi-organ failure. Her heart had stopped, her lungs had each collapsed, each side of her brain had suffered a major stroke and now her liver and kidneys were ceasing to function. Her body lived only because it was hooked up to drugs and machines. On Sunday, October 2, we had to make the heartbreaking decision to “withdraw care” and she was pronounced dead.

A lot of people have been asking about my sister and what happened to her. Honestly, I’ve been embarrassed to say that my 23 year old sister died from taking drugs- its self inflicted, its beneath her, but she also had a tragically difficult life and she was trying to kill the pain, not herself. I want you to know that I love her and although it makes my heart ache, I will think of her every single day and miss her more than anyone or anything. I want you to know that I’m not angry, that I know she had her own choices to make, her own path to follow. I want you to know that she died from using drugs. We don’t know exactly what she had in her system, but she did tell my family she’d used bath salts. I want you to know what bath salts are, and I want you to talk to your children and friends. Bath salts aren’t really bath salts at all, they are the name for a chemical, man made product designed and sold solely for consumers to get high. They are legal because they say “not for human consumption” on the label, and they are available at gas stations and mini-marts. “Bath salts” are now illegal in 5 states, but not here in our home state of Arizona.

I want you to know that right now I can’t make sense of it, that our little family will never be the same. I want you to know she was unique and special and can never be replaced.

Spirituality in a Soulless Industry

// September 22nd, 2011 // No Comments » // attitude, diet, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Marketing. meh. I love it and hate it really. On one hand, its the only occupation I was ever really drawn to (besides when I was 10 and teetered between ballerina and veterinarian). My profession allows me the opportunity to have loads of variety, no two days are ever the same, I meet new people, travel, and learn about new companies and industries- and see how it is all interrelated. Marketing allows for creativity, begs for new ideas and fresh perspectives, and most importantly it allows us (the marketers) to connect quality products and services with the audiences that truly need them, creating a win-win scenario.

Not so fast with all the feel-goodness. Sorry to be a buzzkill, but this industry also really sucks. Marketers often have the reputation of seedy used car salespeople (sorry, I know there are car salespeople with integrity, too). “What do we need to do to get you into this campaign today?!” is what most prospects seem to expect from us. Not mention the personalities that conjure up these reputations- the cut throat, shank you in the back types who poach clients, bad mouth you or call competitors out in public channels like social media in an attempt to muddy reputations. There are the people you’d have never expected to turn on you, but there he or she is, with a feather hanging out of that smug little smiling face.

I know that this is similar to the population of the people in the world, a mix of good and bad, yin and yang. But for some reason we seem to attract Jekyl and Hyde types in this industry, and God help you if you trust the wrong person- there go your clients, the years of hard work, the revenue streams that keep the lights on and your dedicated employees working.

It frustrates the hell out of me and I have to consciously make an effort everyday not to let it get to me, to choose the right people to trust and to protect us and our investments. Staying grounded can be difficult when people, situations, clients, technology and the city you’re in is constantly changing. I would never pretend that spirituality is one size fits all, so I will offer you my solution- I have to hold tight to my spirituality, especially when things go to hell in a handbasket and I find myself in the tail spin of second-guessing everything I have ever done.

I take time to myself regularly to collect my thoughts, get in touch and listen for my messages (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, check out The Center for Intuitive Development, great place to be if you need help with getting in touch with your messages- love them!).

I nap. I know that sounds funny coming from a grown woman but in conjunction with having arthritis, stressful shit just zaps me, and being tired makes everything worse. The immune system goes downhill fast, and then I turn into Bitch Woman to my family- so not fair to them. Taking a 15 minute nap isn’t quite long enough to fall into that deep sleep that makes you want to sleep for hours more, but its just enough to reset the attitude.

I also start paying more attention to what I’m eating and drinking- though the instinct is usually to hit the bar when times get rough, I have to remember to drink more water and back off the frosty adult beverages. I’ve tried several times to completely overhaul my diet and go all vegan, all Caveman Diet, all anti inflammatory diet, and extremes simply don’t work for me and the demands of my schedule. Instead I go get a box of green tea, eat some blueberries and other anti-inflammatory / antioxidant rich foods, boost the leafy greens and go for a chocolately granola bar instead of a chocolate bar. I’ve also noticed that cutting back on meat seems to be a good thing- for me anyway. There is something about being weighed down by digesting a bunch of meat that makes me not feel well.

And most importantly, I have to hold tight to the fact that happiness, integrity and leading a life of spirituality and evaluation are choices. It is SO easy to get swept away with the torrents of craziness and crazy people and crazy energy swirling around. It is important to remember that even when we don’t have control of what is happening around us, we do have the control to stay spiritually grounded.

The Simplicity of Compassion

// August 29th, 2011 // No Comments » // attitude, behavior, Spirituality

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion. -Dalai Lama

Last night I made a fortunate rediscovery- the Buddhist concept of compassion. Not that it’s different than the regular concept of compassion ;) But compassion is at the heart of Buddhism, it is through compassion that we very simply may alleviate the suffering of others, and ultimately the suffering of ourselves.

Somehow I forgot about that. Its funny, at the age of 22, I had the wisdom and conviction to have the Tibetan mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum,  associated with the Bodhisattva of compassion tattooed on my body, and then I forgot about it.

Om Mani Padme Hum

The concept of compassion is essential for me- as I attempt to elevate myself spiritually, I find myself constantly in conflict with the world around me. How can there be so much ignorance, so much suffering? How do children suffer abuse at the hands of their parents, how do people walk by others in need without batting an eye? It’s crazy to me, and sometimes the sadness I feel at the suffering of others feels overwhelming, like I’m being pulled under. It tests my spiritual constitution, will I be able to hold on to the Ox?

I haven’t thought about the practice of compassion for many years, and then suddenly I got the message to do some reading last night, and I felt the heaviness in  my heart lighten. The suffering in the world feels like such a weight to bear, like resolving it would take more effort and energy than I’d ever have- but I realized that the simple act of being compassionate to others in distress is all that is mine to do. The act of demonstrating compassion allows us to see new possibility, new solutions, and lends new energy. Sharing compassion with those around me sets others in motion to do the same, setting off an infinite ripple effect in the people around me, and the people around them, and so on. If we all feel and show compassion, then the others around us will do the same, filling the world with new energy and new possibility.

Imagine if a majority of people in the world began to show compassion and the desire to alleviate the suffering of those around them. What would happen? How could that transform the world? Let’s find out, let this be a little stone skipping on the water, starting the ripples. Compassion is so powerfully transforming, and yet requires so little effort, embrace the simplicity of compassion.

MCM Party

// August 21st, 2011 // No Comments » // Awards, MCM, Work/Marketing

We had a blast a few months ago celebrating that we were named one of the Top 10 Internet Marketing Agencies in AZ by Ranking AZ :) Hope you’ll consider voting for us again!

The Potential of Baltic Amber

// August 4th, 2011 // No Comments » // Therapies

So, my friend Kate owns this adorable business called Inspired by Finn (her son being Finn :) and they sell baltic amber and hazel wood (they have also have a great Facebook page if you want to check it out). So what exactly is it? Well, technically it is fossilized tree resin, not technically, its used in beautiful jewelry that doubles as an anti-inflammatory therapy. Kate sells the amber in a number of formats, including teething necklaces to help poor baby gums feel better. The amber works by releasing trace amounts of Succinic Acid, a natural compound, into the skin. It provides pain relief, strengthens the immune system, and breaks the cycle of chronic inflammation.

That’s quite a reputation, eh? I was skeptical but Kate gave me some of her pieces try out- anklets, bracelets and a piece that goes around the knee. After wearing the jewelry for a few days the joints near the jewelry did have some noticeable relief. I thought that maybe it was the power of suggestion, until one day when I thought I’d take it all off I realized that one of my ankles hurt and the other didnt- it turned out I’d forgotten the anklet I’d left on under my jeans.

So, I’m totally sold. Its not a cure-all, I still get flare ups from time to time, but I do swear that baltic amber takes the edge off, and I love that its all natural. It doesn’t hurt that its therapy in the form of gorgeous jewelry either lol

Getting My Fight Back

// July 15th, 2011 // No Comments » // attitude

I’m working on it- dragging myself back up from the pit of despair. Trying to catch and correct the negative thoughts, forcing myself to take my meds (now plaquenil, I really don’t wannnaaaaa….), wearing my amber jewelry (more about that in my next post), drinking loads of water, getting rest (well, as much as you can when you have a 4 year old and a 5 month old. meh.), and… working on my spirituality.

I think all these little things make me feel marginally better when I’m doing them, but I can’t really say any one of these things makes me feel great or makes me recover faster from a flare-up.

But, interestingly, I’d not ever truly considered my spiritual state of being as a cause of or influence on my disease. But lately, with the help of a trusted friend and mentor, I’m exploring that possibility. I know stress can have a huge negative impact on immune disorders like arthritis, but I hadn’t thought about it on a deeper level- a connection to something higher, a reason to have faith and release some control and all that stress. Recently I left the atheist team and signed up for the “Don’t-Know-What-But-Think-There-Is-Something-Greater-Than-Us” team. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.

I think the more I ignore my own curiosity, the more I resist opening up to my desire to connect with whatever it may be, the worse I feel. I wonder if with patience and an open mind, I will come to define my spirituality, my faith, my God? and I wonder what impact, if any, it will have? I suppose only time will tell.

At any rate, I am feeling a little less shitty, and that definitely has helped me to feel like I’ve got some life and fight in my again. Nice to be back, watch out world! ;)

Falling Down

// June 22nd, 2011 // No Comments » // attitude

Have you ever seen that movie with Michael Douglas where he has just had it and snaps one day and starts going medieval on people with a baseball bat? I feel like that guy. (*I will of course mention here, that I don’t literally mean I’m going to snap on you with a baseball bat. Unless you’re not disabled and you park in a disable spot. So. Anyway…).

I started this blog with hope and enthusiasm- that if I was stricken with some shitty disease, that there was a reason. I’m special. I’m strong. I’m naturally supportive and meant to help others. That there must be a lesson in it. To dial in to the Universe. To share and connect. That I had some power to discover a key to well-being and mind-over-matter.

Then I started to feel bad, real bad. I’m not feeling better. Is this a flare-up? I imagine that would imply a start and stop, but this just seems to be getting worse. Everything hurts, standing up from the couch sucks. I’m exhausted and feel overburdened, I’m trying intentionally to remain light and happy, while contemplating if I should hire someone to do our grocery shopping (because I’m a broken down hag at the age 33, a vivacious girl trapped in a 70 year old woman’s body. Don’t get uptight if your 70 and reading this. Meh).

I feel like a shitty boss. I feel like a tool of a mom. I feel like a dragging anchor of a wife.

I’m pissed at this huge fucking sour note. I feel married to the Universe- intensely in love while simultaneously wanting to punch it in the face. I guess I haven’t written in a while because I haven’t been strong. I haven’t been dialed in. I don’t have anything new to share.

But I have to get back up now. So, we’ll start with this.

ASBA Videos

// June 15th, 2011 // No Comments » // Locals Only: Phoenix, MCM, video

There is no question about it, most people know that my company MCM and Locals Only: Phoenix love ASBA (AZ Small Business Association)- they have been a great resource for us, especially in the early days when we were still just trying to make it :) If you want to see the rest of the series you can visit the Locals Only: Phoenix YouTube Page. Here’s one: