Ruth Kaiser, of SpontaneousSmiley.com,
a frequent contributor here at DrGreene.com,
shares her experience as a volunteer on a medical mission to Paraguay with Operation Smile.

A friend, recently back from an Operation Smile mission, shared with me a story I can’t retell without getting goose bumps, a story that when heard touches the listener. People have cried, have hugged me, have asked where they can donate. This is that story.

Operation Smile mostly does surgeries on children. But if they have space in the mission schedule they will do surgery for an adult. My friend was in the Recovery Room when a man of about 30, his smile having just been fixed, beckoned her to his bedside. “I brought an engagement ring with me,” he explained. “Could you ask my girlfriend to come in so that I can ask her to marry me.”

This young couple had long ago accepted the fact that her family would never allow them to marry because of his deformity. In 45 minutes and for about $240 (average cost to fund a cleft lip surgery), their lives were forever changed. It feels mighty good to be a part of something this great!!

As I end my week here on DrGreene.com, if you can and you want to help, you’re a couple of clicks away from being the person that makes a story like this one, a reality.

Smile. Be happy!
Ruth

BTW, 100% of your donation goes to Operation Smile. SpontaneousSmiley.com does not receive any compensation!

Ruth Kaiser, of Spontaneoussmiley.com,
a frequent contributor here at DrGreene.com,
shares her experience as a volunteer on a medical mission to Paraguay with Operation Smile.

I am here to say that play, in and of itself, is enough.

The two American teenagers who accompany every Operation Smile mission are included to educate the children and parents. They learn all about and come prepared with handmade materials to teach everything from tooth brushing to hand washing, from burn prevention to burn care. The idea is that while all these families are waiting, waiting, waiting for their turn at screening and their child’s turn on the operating table, why not put on an educational show for this captive audience.

My understanding is that the Magees, who founded Operation Smile, brought their own kids with them in the early days of going on missions and soon discovered that a couple of kids with nothing to do naturally fell into the role of Play-ologists. But when one goes out seeking funding, can you justify the expense of a couple of teenagers, if play is all they’ll be doing? I imagine the plan for the teens to serve an educational role was cooked up to legitimize their inclusion.

As a life long advocate of play and a witness to what a huge help the play was to the success of this mission*, I know for certain that the teens earn their place even if they don’t teach a single dental hygiene lesson. I, in fact, think that the teaching of the lessons might hinder the relationships they are building with the kids and the parents.

My teens found it awkward and difficult. Both Brendan and Hunter expressed that it felt condescending.  Yes, the parents and the kids listened. But jeez, they were being given life changing surgery for free. Of course they listened and smiled. I just wonder what they thought.

I look at the mission with a critiquing eye and think play is enough. But then I think play is enough in many situations. There is endless research showing that play is valuable. Yet we as a society still grill our preschool teachers about what will be the academic curriculum for our 3 year olds and sign our kids up for after school enrichment this and advanced that. I’ve taught preschool for decades. I always tell my parents that our curriculum is kindness. I can say without hesitation, even if a preschool teacher never taught colors and shapes, or letters and numbers, almost every preschooler would pick those things up long before kindergarten any way.  And as a parent, my kids were outside playing in the mud not taking pre-algebra.

So my one big piece of advice to Operation Smile is this: chuck the educating component for the teen participants. Play is enough. Really. If you don’t think it’s true, I’ll send you a slew of links to research that backs up my contention!

As parents, as educators, as people interested in a healthy society, we all need to stand up for play. That includes play for kids and play for adults. Have you played lately? If not, how about making play a priority!

Smile. Be happy.
Play. Be happier.
Ruth

….
Ruth Kaiser, of SpontaneousSmiley.com,
a frequent contributor here at DrGreene.com,
shares her experience as a volunteer on a medical mission to Paraguay with Operation Smile.

When you go into another culture, you really don’t know what you will discover, what things will strike a cord because they were not what you expected.

One of the things that most struck me about Paraguayan society was the involvement of the daddies. The young dads were as active participants, as the moms were.  From what I could see Paraguay was doing an awfully good job of splitting the parenting duties 50/50, especially those duties which require a nurturing approach.

Most of the kids were there with both parents. It was so touching to see that the dads were doing the cuddling, the play, the feeding, all of it.  And all of it without self-consciousness or the awkward “look at me, I’m doing my Mr. Rogers impersonation” sometimes seen on playgrounds in my neighborhood.

Not only were these dads being the ones to wipe up the spittle and soothe the crying infant, they also showed their emotions without shame. The dads were just as likely to cry as the moms. The dads’ faces were as deeply troubled as they waited and waited for their child to emerge from the Operating Room. I fell in love with the daddies of Paraguay for being so sweet, so vulnerable.

Smile. Be happy.I have to admit that one reason I was so touched by their behavior was because it was not what I had expected. In my mind was the notion of Latin American machismo that really had no place in Paraguay. I guess the lesson here is that no preconceived notions ever have a place no matter where we go. Travel with an open heart and open mind ready to see what is really there. Even if where you are traveling is to your neighborhood grocery store.

Smile. Be happy.
Ruth

………
Ruth Kaiser, of SpontaneousSmiley.com,
a frequent contributor here at DrGreene.com,
shares her experience as a volunteer on a medical mission to Paraguay with Operation Smile.

Surgeries begin today. Another day filled with big adventures-lots to learn and people to meet. As a first timer I go into this situation with only a sketchy little idea of what I will be doing to help the team.

One of my main responsibilities is to look out for the 2 teenagers from America who are part of the team. Operation Smile has clubs at high schools all over the world where students work to raise money to fund the medical missions. Two students, who have been active in their club and have attended trainings, go on every mission.

The role of the teen volunteers is to play with the kids and when ever possible to educate the children and families about dental hygiene and other health related issues. Teenagers were incorporated into the process early on in Operation Smile’s existence, when 30 years ago, the Magees (the founders) brought their own children with them on the first missions. It became abundantly clear that having a couple of people free of any medical duties, and able simply to play with the kids, was extremely valuable.

I could not have been luckier with the 2 teens I got. Hunter and Brendan (a Senior and Junior) were great! They needed little oversight and were great at jumping in. I’m not so sure that I, as a self conscious teen, would have had their level of chutzpah.

The three of us, the American Play-ologists, arrived with our bags of bubbles, crayons, puzzles, hot wheels, stickers and pipe cleaners. The children having surgery had checked in the night before. Entire families had slept on the ward. The families were nervous. The kids were hungry and thirsty! It was our job to help both groups get though the day.

I found my role pretty quickly. As each child’s turn came, they and their parents were ushered into the area just off of where the Operation Rooms were. With the assistance of a translator the anesthesiologist met with the parents and did one last assessment of the child. (Local teens, who have been active in their Operation Smile Club, serve as translators for the mission. Everyday about 15 local high schoolers join us and helped the medical personnel and families communicate. How cool to be 16 and assisting a surgeon explain a procedure and a parent explain their concerns.).

So what did I do here? No medical know how. Not much Spanish in this old noggin. But I am a mama. I became the Lovey-Dovey Parent Caretaker. Imagining what it must feel like to hand your child over to someone with whom you cannot easily communicate, I decided they needed a little, no make that a lot, of TLC.

The medical staff had no time on their hands. I had only time. A nurse might simply call out a patient’s name and lead the family in. I had been playing with the kids and cajoling the parents. I knew them beyond the name and number on their hospital bracelet.

Whenever possible, I took on the responsibility of getting the families. My technique included hugs, arm squeezes, thumbs ups, hand holding, tickles and bubble blowing. It wasn’t much, but it was a lot. I sat with them while they met with the doctor. If they looked bewildered, I asked questions hoping to clear up their concerns. And when it was time to hand their baby over, I made sure they got enough kisses. And then since there is no such thing as enough, one more kiss.

And almost without exception, when I walked them out to the waiting area the questions they were too scared to ask the doctor, they asked me.  It was a profound realization that these parents so wanted their children to be chosen for the surgery, that mom and dad weren’t going to take the chance of being perceived as the problem parent by asking a lot of questions.*

I walked them to the waiting area holding their hands or with an arm around their trembling shoulder.  The SOP was for parents to simply walk down the hall to the waiting chairs. Instead I walked them there, with the empathy of a fellow parent. It was as if, by being kind, I gave them permission to cry. And cry they did. The whole stiff upper lip thing, isn’t really the way to go. Crying is such a great release when the situation is filled with tension and fear.

During the 1-3 hours that they waited, I stopped by and gave updates. I didn’t really need to know any medical specifics. What they needed to hear was: so far so good, it’s going well, thumbs up from the doc, the new smile is looking so good.

I was the Lovey-Dovey Guide. My day consisted of guiding them to the operating area, to the waiting area and then into recovery. It was an honor to be the one who brought mom or dad back to the Recovery Room to see their child’s new smile for the very first time. Lots of tears. Lots of hugs. Lots of smiles.

The parents were, of course, thankful. I hope they realize that we too were thankful.

Smile. Be happy.

Ruth

* What I perceived as the parents’ reluctance to rock the boat, for fear their child might be excluded, also became apparent as everyone pulled out their cameras. These were extremely intimate moments in these family’s lives. We all were careful to ask permission before taking pictures, but truthfully I soon came to understand that they probably felt they had to say yes. After the first day of surgeries, I put my camera away.

Ruth Kaiser, of SpontaneousSmiley.com,
a frequent contributor here at DrGreene.com,
shares her experience as a volunteer on a medical mission to Paraguay with Operation Smile. 

The first day at the hospital was amazing. So amazing. I hardly know where to start.

The hospital is part of a military base that we entered through a gate guarded by soldiers with great big, scary looking guns. The sight of them seemed so incongruous to what we were there to do. We passed though security, and in the field next to the hospital, we got the first look at the waiting parents and children; many had arrived the day before. Hundreds more had arrived since. Busloads more would arrive through out the day.

Large tents had been erected to provide shade (by the Army peeps, who could not have been nicer!). Several long tables were set up with chairs along either side, one side for families and one side for interviewers. One of the many great things I witnessed, was that many of the initial screeners were local high school students who had trained to be the ones who asked the initial questions to get the patient charts started. How cool to see kids helping kids!?!

Inside the hospital were multiple stations each child would visit. They would be weighed and measured, photographed and x-rayed. Vitals would be taken. Hearing tests and blood would be administered. They would be evaluated by nurses, surgeons, anesthesiologists, audiologists, speech therapists, dentists and orthodontists, who had traveled to Paraguay — for no pay — coming from countries all over the world.

Some children were deemed not healthy enough to be able to tolerate surgery. Things as simple as being extremely underweight, anemic or having a fever could disqualify a child for treatment. Although that decision was made at the first station, all patients were encouraged to stay and see all of the doctors in hopes that causes for the issue that excluded them could be discovered and treatment started. Pretty cool, huh? These children would be at the top of the list when Operation Smile returned in 6 months.

Being the non-medical type, as in I get faint just visiting people in the hospital, my job was to play with all the kids who would spend much of the day waiting, and waiting and waiting. There were so many kids. Easily as many, if not more, did not have clefts; these were the patients’ siblings. Lots of kids, need lots to do. To that end I brought 2 huge suitcases filled with toys and art supplies.  I was there as the professional Play-ologist.

It took a bit of time to get into the groove; the kids and I both were not sure just how this was to work. They were feeling shy and so was I. So feeling self-conscious I figured, what the heck I’d do the most out-there thing I could think of and get it over with. Break the ice. Dive into the deep end. Take ‘em by storm. That is to say, start singing and dancing in front of a large and bewildered crowd who could no more understand my motivation than they could understand my English.

I recruited a couple of other volunteer (grabbed is actually the more accurate verb). We put on wristbands with long flowing ribbons (made by my great daughter Hillary and me) and started frolicking. The kids took some cajoling to join us, particularly the kids with the clefts. The siblings were much less shy-no big surprise. With timid children, who clearly looked as if they wanted to join in, I got their moms dancing and slowly they opened up. We made up a little choreography using dance moves from good old Jazzercize.

The remainder of the day was spent both outdoors with the waiting kids and families and indoors with the kids as they progressed through the stations. Inside I got to spend one-on-one time with kids and more than a few nestled themselves into my heart. Knowing that I’d be able to shadow a few children through their surgery day staying with them through the whole process, I started writing their ID numbers onto my hand so that I might ask to be with them. Funny thing is that by the end of the day many of the numbers had washed off. When I was asked to describe their deformity so that the medical person I was asking might recall which kid I was talking about, I couldn’t do it. I’d spent 45 minutes with the kid, together solving geometric puzzles, but I hadn’t noticed why they were here. With so many kids with clefts, I just stopped noticing.

Tomorrow we go to the hospital and families find out if their kids were selected. I am sure it will be powerful both for the joy and the sorrow. In Paraguay, the local team has psychologists to talk to each family about why their child was not selected, what they can do next, and are able to refer them for services locally or help them to understand the process for applying to come to the states for cases too difficult to be done in Paraguay.

The following day, surgeries will begin. It will be 5 tables going all day for 5 days; the days will be long–ten to twelve hours and about 25 cases a day.

Feeling so lucky to be here.

Smile. Be happy. Be happy you can smile!

Ruth

P.S.: If you ever go to a small hospital where hundreds of people will be using just 2 toilets, bring toilet paper.

Three of these children are siblings. Can you tell which two children are patients?
When you figure it out, you may need a kleenex. 

“Never let the Urgent, crowd out the important.” ~ Kelly Caitlin Walker

I just stumbled on this quote and loved it. No idea who this woman is, just know she’s got it right.*

Lantana Flowers Smiley I think I do live by this credo. Just take a look at the laundry that needs folding and the weeds that need pulling, and, and, and. I could go on and on! Both of those chores could have been given priority today. But oh well, they weren’t. Oh well, pushed to the back burner, again.

And miraculously, the world didn’t stop spinning. Actually, no miracle need for this one, and that’s the lesson: it is ok to decide to allow yourself to put off, to de-prioritize the things we often wrongly think of as urgent. And, its way cool to go down your TO DO list, changing things from TO DO to TO DON’T.

How does this translate when you’re the parent trying to get kids to get things done? Perhaps, it is our job to reassess what we have prioritized. Do they really need to have a spotless room or do they need to go outside to check on the blooming acacia? Homework? Yes. Empty the dishwasher? Not so urgent.

Even more importantly as parents we should teach through example. How? No phone calls during meals; a call may be urgent but a family’s together time is important. No skipping your kid’s school performance; you may have pressing tasks that feel urgent but your child’s desire for you to be there is important.

So what did I do today (instead of laundry)? A ton of really cool stuff. All of it important, to me. All of it things no discerning eye will ever be able to discern. But my sense of satisfaction, for a day well spent, is all, and should be all, I need. You don’t get that from merely dealing with the urgent.

I’m not advocating that we teach our children to be slackers. But it is a very good idea to teach them to prioritize engaging with the world and other people with the goal of feeling and sharing happiness, contentment and joy.

Smile. Be happy

Ruth

* Got a minute? Google her. It might be interesting. Kelly Catlin Walker

P.S. I did dump the laundry onto the bed so there’ll be no sleeping until that one gets done. Actually kind of looking forward to it as it’s just about the only time I ever turn on the TV. Plus I might as well decide to enjoy it— hating the job doesn’t get it done any faster!

If a blade of grass springing up from a field has the power to move you, if the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if the simplest things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive. – Eleanora Duse

Clouds Smiley

Pleasure is not synonymous with happiness. Pleasure is dependent on the thing or the circumstance that is pleasing to you. They go away and the pleasure can slip away, too.

However, one certainly experiences more happiness when they allow themselves to be open to pleasure, when they give themselves permission to wallow in the pleasure. Enjoying pleasures increases your feelings of wellbeing, serenity, fulfillment, etc. In a nutshell, enjoying pleasures pumps up your sense that you are a happy person. And, that kind of happiness does not go away when the pleasant stimulus is gone.

Sunsets? Kitties? Flowers? Available everyday!

Recognize the things with the potential to give you happiness and then let them.

Look all around. Notice the good. Focus on that. We think that you should. From a SMILEY BOOK OF COLORS

Smile. Be happy. Ruth

Iced Latte? Muffin? Sourdough Toast? All of these make me SMILE!

A problem seems small,
If you cut it some slack.
You can choose to forgive,
And how you react.
From a SMILEY BOOK OF COLORS

Have you ever even thought about self compassion? Most people would answer no. We all know it is important to strive to be compassionate but rarely do we turn this kindness inward.

Self compassion should not be confused with self-indulgence. Self-compassion is about not belittling yourself for making a mistake or for falling behind. It’s about recognizing that life has ups and downs, good days and bad.

Self-compassion doesn’t always come easily when in the midst of difficult situations. As we have grown from child to adult, we’ve been given few tools, few examples and few lessons in self compassion. In fact quite the opposite.

Once kids reach elementary school, where they spend most of their waking hours, their days consist of one judgement after another. Their every effort is scrutinized and evaluated, competition and ranking are built in, deadlines are hard and fast. Sure teachers can, and do, show compassion, but the system does little to allow a child to show themselves compassion. There are so many messages in the school day that urge the child to be self-critical. Do these messages improve performance? Maybe. Do they improve feelings of self-worth? No.

There are so many messages in our adult lives that urge us to be self-critical. Take a minute to remember your life as a child. Your age meant others controlled and felt free to criticize so many aspects of your life. You  could hardly tell a teacher before a math test “life has ups and downs, good days and bad.” Instead the voice in your head was angry at yourself for not trying harder, or not being more prepared, or even not being smart enough.

Does this work for you as an adult? Does being a meanie to yourself motivate you?: I didn’t get to all of my To Do’s because I’m so disorganized, I’m overweight because I’m lazy and have no will power, I’m going to be so late! Why didn’t I think about how long it would take to park!?.

Seems to me that talking to yourself with that criticizing voice is the complete opposite of motivating. Our culture says be hard on yourself and you’ll succeed. I disagree. I think be hard on yourself, and you feel stuck and hopeless.

Whenever you feel badly about something take a minute to ask: What have I just been saying to myself. Much of our interpretation of a situation is colored by the voice in our head. It’s a hard habit to break, this being hard on yourself. But like breaking any habit you have to actively, intentionally work at making change.

I recommend saying out loud the words of your inner voice. Out loud you hear how mean you are being to yourself. You’d never be so hard on anyone else. With intention try to come up with a kinder evaluation, a kinder narration for your life. By saying supportive, self compassionate things out loud you not only work to change the chatter in your head, turning it into supportive pep talk, but you model the practice for your children.

Smile. Be Happy.

Ruth

P.S.: Here’s a wonderful little secret: no one hears the voice in your head but you. That means you can be as sweet and lovey towards your delicate vulnerable self as you deserve. How nice.

A poem about loving stuff could hardly be cool, right? Aren’t we all supposed to be groovier than that? Well, I think this poem is the grooviest. I am right there with Pablo: I love my bed, my tub, sourdough toast, waxed dental floss and thick socks. Daffodils are the best. New sheets, rechargeable batteries, my Smiley Face bowl. Hot coffee, cold coffee, ice cold carrot juice. Math puzzles, cashmere anything and don’t forget peanut butter. GPS, NPR and the OED. OMG & LOL I can’t stop.

But isn’t loving stuff mean you’re materialistic? It doesn’t have to. For me it’s about being thankful. Voicing your gratitude is a wonderful practice to share with your kids. Of course we might hope they’ll say something profound like they’re grateful for their sister. Should we be upset then, if instead they say they’re grateful for their bike or the TV!?

It’s all good. It’s all part of the dialog. The simple act of talking together about things that have brought them pleasure is a valuable act. The discussion can include thinking to whom you’d say, “thanks” if you could. I’d like to thank farmers and pickers for strawberries and onions. I’d like to thank the first person who thought to put yogurt and granola together. I’d like to thank the Fire Fighters who opened their doors so we could climb on the trucks.

With older kids the discussion often morphs to one about compassion for those who don’t have the things that make our lives safe, easier and comfortable. That too is a valuable conversation.

It’s good to make thinking and talking about gratitude a part of your routine. It’s a great conversation to have each night as you tuck your babies into bed.

Like Pablo Neruda, I too sing an ode to all these wonderful things that have been made by the hands of mankind, things that exist because of the creativity and effort of others, things that we enjoy and that become a part of our lives and a part of who we are.

I hope others are thankful for the things that I do and make. I try everyday to be that person. It’s a good goal.

Smile. Be Happy.
Ruth

Would it be too goofy to thank the bird who dropped this?

It made me burst out laughing in the middle of my mundane errands.

So yes. I am thankful for Bird Poop Smiley!

Sidewalk Smiley at the Cable Car turnaround on Market St.

I’ve written frequently about sticking your neck out and taking a chance. You know, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Really what’s the worst that can happen? Even when it all goes south, it’s rarely as bad as the way you imagined it might be. Last night I was thinking about what often holds us back. I think it’s the fear of not coming off as cool, polished, in charge and in the know. Sounds like ego getting in the way of experimentation.

This made me think about being embarrassed. What’s the big deal? Aren’t those situations the ones we all laugh about later. Don’t we tell and re-tell the stories of our goof ups, our humiliations, our spinach on the teeth as we trip down the stairs with our shirt mis-buttoned while giving the wrong answer to a ridiculously easy question in front of the person we were hoping to impress moments? *

Here’s the funny thing: we don’t merely re-tell, we re-tell and, in so doing, throw down the gauntlet for those listening, to one-up us with their own stories of being embarrassed. And then, a grand time is had by all. Everybody laughs and the one with the most humiliating tale is the “winner.”

So next time you fumble and feel embarrassed, remember how you’ll laugh about it later. Maybe, if you’re lucky, this screw up is so colossal that you’ll be the dopey-est the next time you and friends swap stories.

Why not skip right past embarrassment and laugh about it right then? Why wait? Why suffer feelings of humiliation? The truth is nobody is paying that much attention. Remember you are not the star in the movie that is their life. At most you have a feature role, but more likely you are a mere extra. You’re worrying about what they’re thing about you, but all the while they’re actually busy wondering and worrying about what you’re thinking about them.

Remember, you are just as lovable with your skirt tucked into your underwear, as you are when it is not.

Smile. Be happy and check your backside before you exit the stall.

Ruth

* Feel free to insert your own humiliating memory here – mine was just yesterday when a gust of wind exposed my bottom half to the hundreds of people waiting for the Cable Car at the corner of Market and Powell. Funniest thing was that in that moment, my first thought was to wish I’d worn cuter panties. Silly ego, always worrying about how we are perceived. I’m sure every tourist waiting at the corner just felt sympathy for me. OK maybe a few were thinking, “Darn. Why didn’t I have my camera ready.”

As I re-read that I realize I should have typed: I’m sure every tourist waiting at the corner didn’t even notice.