When we moved to San Clemente 13 years ago my older son transitioned from private preschool to public elementary school.

I’m a proud product of public schools, but as a parent I found myself questioning our decision to send our son to Truman Benedict Elementary School.  I worried about everything from the large size of the school to the challenge of forging new friendships.

I’ll never forget the day my son started first grade.  We arrived with jitters in check but as we crossed the playground the tears started and soon turned into sobs, at that point my six year-old had enough and he dragged me by the hand to his classroom.

As we approached the door, a vibrant and smiling blond bundle of energy appeared. She knelt next to my son and gently touched her palm to the top of his spiked hair and said, “I love your hair.”  Mrs. Barreira then invited us into her classroom; my son raced to find his desk and I watched as she wholeheartedly welcomed students and greeted parents, taking time with each child to ensure they felt special.

It’s impossible to put onto paper all the extraordinary qualities Kelly embodies, but friends frequently describe her as compassionate, generous, dedicated – and lately courageous.

On June 3 Kelly Barreira will be honored at theKurefor Kelly Breast Cancer Awareness and Benefit Luncheon.

Approximately one in eight women will develop invasive breast cancer over the course of her lifetime.  Like many women without family history of breast cancer, Kelly thought the odds were in her favor.  She said she waited until age 41, after a close friend’s breast cancer diagnosis to get her first mammogram, “I thought, ‘Wow, it can happen to anyone.’”

Kelly’s mammogram came back normal and the busy wife and working mom of daughter Eva, 9, and son Shane, 14, returned to her kindergarten classroom at Truman Benedict where she’s taught for 16 years.

In May 2011, feeling unusually tired she visited her doctor, “I knew something was wrong with me.” However, routine tests and another mammogram proved normal. Soon the school year started and she chalked-up her fatigue to typical classroom chaos.

Kelly continued her self-examinations, and then in January during a routine check she said, “I found my lump.” On February 29, Kelly’s doctor diagnosed her with intermediate invasive ductal carcinoma.

Hearing her diagnosis, Kelly said, “I thought of my family, my husband of 17 years and our two young, wonderful kids who we love more than life itself.  All I cared about was being here to be with them and I knew I’d do whatever I had to do to do just that.”

She opted for bilateral mastectomies with reconstruction, “It’s a long process:  going to consultations, scheduling surgery, chemotherapy and radiation - my total treatment will be a minimum of 30 weeks. This cancer thing takes so much time!”

Kelly said she’s grateful for all the community support, “My family and I have been so completely blessed by the community of Forster Ranch, the families of Truman Benedict, and my church family at Heritage Christian Fellowship. I believe the love and prayers of this community have been the most powerful tools in fighting and beating this cancer.”

Finding herself diagnosed with breast cancer, Kelly said she feels a sense of responsibility, “My hope is that my story will encourage women to take care of themselves before something like this happens to them. I want women to take the time to do their monthly checks and get their mammograms.”

Kelly’s friends Michele Pierce and Laura Dill came up with the idea for theKurefor Kelly luncheon and silent auction on Sunday, June 3 from 1-4 p.m. at Irons in the Fire.

“This is our way of giving back to her for all she's done—she has such a caring and giving heart,” said Pierce whose family attends Heritage Christian Fellowship with the Barreiras.

“Any funds raised will go directly to the Kelly Barreira Breast Cancer Fund,” said Pierce. While Kelly has insurance, many of her medical expenses aren’t covered and the costs quickly accumulate. 

Pierce said, “People that don't get to see her as often anymore because of her double mastectomy surgery, recovery, and now chemotherapy will have the opportunity to love and rejoice with her—the outpouring of people that love her is just incredible.”

Pierce and Dill invite the community to join in the celebration luncheon that includes guest speakers, great food, and opportunity drawings.  Kelly said, “I never thought I would be a member of this club, but now that I am, it’s time to dance!”

I didn’t line-up at the movie theater to see James Cameron’s 1997 blockbuster Titanic; I didn’t get swept-up in Kate and Leo hype; and, I didn’t tear-up at Celine Dion’s song “My Heart Will Go On.”  In fact, I agree with Kate Winslet who said recently in an interview that she feels like throwing up when she hears the song.

So it caught me by surprise when Cameron re-released the ship’s saga in 3D to coincide with the anniversary of the maritime disaster:  April 15 marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic.

My ignorance proved ironic as I realized the week the film splashed across screens, I coincidentally booked our first family cruise – a cruise along an ice-filled bay lined with giant glaciers and calving icebergs.

Earlier this month, I called a cruise line and reserved last minute passage aboard a popular ship.  Cruises toAlaskasell out quickly and I couldn’t believe my luck when I found two staterooms available on the same deck.  I gave my husband the exciting news and he enthusiastically jumped onboard the vacation bandwagon. Then, we shared with our kids the plan to cruiseGlacier Bay.

Before I could finish listing the ports we’d be visiting, I simultaneously heard my older son shout, “I’m not going,” and my younger son chime in with, “No, no way!” Apparently, after watching Titanic 3D at Krikorian Cinema they weren’t too excited about a close encounter with an iceberg; and, neither one found it as humorous as I did that our cruise coincided with the 100th anniversary of the Titanic’s demise.

The more I talked, the more they protested.  I reminded them that we’d agreed to one final family vacation before my oldest goes off to college and permanently pries himself from my clutches.  After some coaxing, and a couple threats, they eventually admitted that our trapped togetherness might be fun.  Once aboard, I’m betting we hear continuous cries of, “Iceberg, right ahead!” and “I’m the king of the world!”

I showed our boys the brochure with pictures of the balcony stateroom I booked for me and my husband and a picture of their own inside cabin – or, as my youngest son calls it, the closet.  I didn’t tell them I secretly considered a cabin with a port hole for them, but knowing they’ll be way more interested in the electronic devices in their hands than the natural wonders outside their cabin, I decided against the extra expense.

Our cruise departs within a couple months of the Titanic’s centennial anniversary, but that’s where the similarities stop - unlike the charter cruise departing this month that recreates the ship’s ill-fated sailing.

According to Miles Morgan Travel, nothing spells fun like the word Titanic.  The company charted the MS Balmoral (operated by Fred Olsen Cruise Lines, whose parent company Harland Wolff built the Titanic) to cruise the exact transatlantic itinerary of the Titanic’s doomed trip.

On April 8 passengers, many costumed in period pieces and some descendants of those who perished in the disaster, boarded the boat at Southampton, England for the 12-night cruise.  The ship even carried the same number of passengers as were on the Titanic—1,309.

To recreate the Titanic experience, music from the era will be played and food from the original menus will be served. The tour company planned to mimic much of the maiden voyage—minus the incident with the iceberg.

Some call the cruise a memorial, I call it creepy.  The highlight of the trip includes stopping at the watery deep-sea grave for a midnight service to honor the approximately 1,500 people who perished in the icyNorth Atlanticwaters.

As I write, the Balmoral is off to a troubled start: strong winds prevented a port stop; rough seas canceled a night’s entertainment; and, a medical emergency forced an itinerary delay when an Irish coast guard helicopter evacuated a passenger. It’s uncertain whether the ship will arrive as scheduled this weekend inNew York.

But one thing is certain, the ship’s tragic tale continues to create headlines a century after sinking - proving near, or far, fascination with the Titanic will go on and on.

March marks the transition from winter to spring; and, the shift in seasons affects everything from fashion trends to spectator sports.

We swap socks for sandals, as our clocks spring ahead with the arrival of daylight saving time—losing that precious hour of sleep but gaining extra hours of daylight.

The longer days and warmer weather lure local hibernators from their winter cocoons to outdoor spring celebrations like this month’s Swallows Day Parade inSan Juan Capistranoand the Festival of Whales inDanaPoint.

However, one of our nation’s most popular March pastimes has nothing to do with the mild climate and migratory animals, instead it centers on indoor arenas and collegiate mascots.

The 2012 NCAA Men's Division I Basketball Tournament officially kicked-off on March 11 with Selection Sunday and it cumulates on April 2 with the national championship game inNew Orleans.

Every March, the collegiate tournament and its traditional bracketology triggers mass mania for millions of Americans. Simplified, bracketology is the process of picking the winning basketball team in the annual March Madness tournament.

I grew-up caught in the midst of March Madness. My parents were, and still are, UCLA Bruin fanatics. Lest you think I exaggerate, my mother’s personalized license plate on her car is from 1972 and its original blue background and gold lettering reads BRUINS.

As a kid, I remember routine rituals coming to a halt in March so we could crowd around the television in the living room to cheer on Coach Wooden and his UCLA basketball team. While head coach at UCLA, John Wooden won a historic ten NCAA men's national championships in twelve years—a record that still stands strong today.

Thousands of miles from the Bruins' home court of Pauley Pavilion, President Barack Obama even schedules time to complete his basketball brackets, and his picks get posted on the White House website.

The March Madness brackets start with a field of 68 seeded teams ranked by region, and the winners of each game (or bracket) advance to the next round of play.  Losing teams are eliminated and the field of winning teams narrows, earning them noble nicknames, like:  the Sweet Sixteen, Elite Eight, and Final Four.

I only hope President Obama doesn’t spend as much time as my husband does on this pop culture pastime of bracketology. My husband squanders the weeks before the tournament fastidiously studying statistics, reading scouting reports, and sweating over his Final Four forecast.  Sadly, his laborious efforts remain in vain, in fifteen years he’s never won the office pool.

I, on the other hand, opt for luck over skill and invest about five minutes in my bracketology.  And, yes it’s true, I haven’t won the pool either—but, I also haven’t spent weeks of my life pouring over analytical college basketball data.

For the curious, I’ll share the secret system I developed to determine the winner of the Big Dance. (Keep in mind, I’m still waiting for my strategy to pay off and predict that Cinderella team victory.)

When the NCAA first round brackets are announced on Selection Sunday, I begin picking the winning teams by asking myself a simple question about each pairing:  Which city would I rather visit?  For example, Connecticut Huskies versus Cincinnati Bears?  Simple:Connecticut.  Agreed, my approach lacks scientific statistical support, but based on my husband’s record, I think my chances of winning the pool are equally as good as his—if not better.

More importantly, my system provides me with plenty of time to study the serious seasonal transitions like springtime’s latest shoes, handbags, and accessories.

Last month I led a secret life.  I snuck around behind my husband’s back engaging in hidden trysts. But, as time wore on, I worried about being spotted in this small town; so, I decided to confess my clandestine rendezvous to my husband.  I sat him down and confirmed his worst fear:  I’d been frequenting local animal shelters.

For years our boys begged for a dog; and for years, my husband and I maintained a united front when besieged by their pleas. We categorically denied our children’s request citing travel plans and their obvious lack of discipline, as illustrated by the cascading river of water bottles and soda cans flowing from their collective rooms.

But, recently, I began to wavier and warm to the idea of a furry friend.  I reasoned since my older son has one foot firmly planted out the door, a canine companion for my younger son could be comforting—besides, a dog might lure my oldest back from college for weekend visits.

It’s been decades since I owned a dog.  In fact, in recent years the closest I’ve come to anything canine is at yoga class when I am inverted in downward dog. Even worse, my husband has never owned a dog—ever.  His only childhood pet was a baby alligator they kept on a leash.  (I’ve seen the photo proving his pet’s presence, but I still can’t explain it.)

Once my husband recovered from the shock, we calmly weighed the pros and cons of adding a new member to our family.  Specifically, we worried about teaching our two old dogs new tricks:  would our boys really accept the responsibility of grooming, feeding, and exercising a dog.

We agreed to go for it and we announced the news they’d waited for most their young lives: We can get a dog.  Disbelief quickly turned to excitement, as they promised to divide the doggie duties (and the plastic bags).  To further prove their point, they willing cut back on the video games and joined us in a crash course on pet parenting.

I told them tales from my secret shelter trips and they couldn’t wait to accompany me on my next visits to the San Clemente-Dana Point Animal Shelter and Paws Rescue.

It’s estimated between three and four million dogs and cats are euthanized each year in this country due to overpopulation. The San Clemente–Dana Point Animal Shelter, with support from the Pet Project Foundation, joins with the ASPCA and Petfinder to network its adoptions and provide abandoned or lost animals a second chance at finding a caring home.

Similarly, Paws Rescue (part of Paws Pet Resorts) partners with several local animal charities to aid in adoptions, and they rescue animals out of kill shelters to place pets in loving homes.

After visiting the shelters and meeting many dogs, we made the difficult decision and narrowed the field to two femaleLabradormixes.  Both three year-old dogs were distinctly different and had completely divergent temperaments—the first full of exuberance and energy, while the second seemed wary and cautious.

We opted for the timid dog knowing that given time, patience, and understanding she’d fit perfectly into our pack. We filed our adoption papers and waited.  A couple days later came the good news: We’d been approved for adoption.

The next day we brought home our new addition.  We planned for numerous bathroom breaks, regular feeding times, and sound sleeping schedules hoping to ease her into her new environment.

Shockingly, she didn’t particularly care for our well laid plans and quickly earned the nickname of Goldilocks: the first night she tried out our younger son’s bed, then the second night our older son’s bed, and the third night our bed—we still aren’t sure which bed is “just right.”

Although it’s been just a few days, everyone seems to be adjusting; our boys are keeping their promises and the dog’s coming out of her shell.  Apparently, you can teach old dogs new tricks.

This New Year, I declared, would start differently than any other.  I decided to skip the ritual of making resolutions to start this or stop that in 2012.

Unfortunately I made my pledge prematurely, before hearing my younger son announce his New Year’s resolution to get his driver’s license. Since then, I have rescinded my initial declaration; and, instead, I resolve to seek a remedy to remove the frown lines from my furrowed brow resulting from repeatedly practicing lane changes, night driving, and parallel parking.

Soon after resolving to find my Fountain of Youth, my thoughts flashed back to the flood of statistics I uncovered about the many risks of teen driving. I wrote an article about the subject for this publication two years ago, as my oldest son started his driving journey—which, coincidently, marks the onset of my fine facial lines evolving into a virtual road map.

Today, sadly, the statistics remain as startling as they were a couple of years ago: Approximately 30,000 American teens died in automobile crashes in the past five years; almost 65% of all teen passenger deaths occurred when another teen was driving; and, the leading cause of death for Americans 15 to 20 years-old is motor vehicle collisions. 

While researching the aforementioned article, I met with Ellen Gaddie of JourneySafe.  She provided information about the outreach program founded by friends and family of Gillian Sabet after she and Jonathan Schulte were killed in 2005 when they were passengers in a car driven by Jill’s best friend who lost control of the car on the way to their junior prom. 

Once Ellen and I ended our interview, I asked her opinion about training programs for new drivers. I considered her advice and concluded my son would not learn to drive – one of the most important things he’ll ever learn to do in his life – by taking an online course.

Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a passenger on an airplane which the pilot learned to fly by taking an online class (truth be told, I don’t want to be on an airplane under any circumstance—but you get my point).

I’ll never forget Ellen’s parting words to me that day, “It’s expensive to get the right kind of training, but that expense is way less than a funeral.”

While driver training can be costly, free educational programs exist in our area, like the Start Smart program offered by the California Highway Patrol (CHP). In 2002, the CHP developed the free two-hour driver safety class targeting teens between the ages of 15 to 19 and their parents.

Two years ago my older son, and soon to be teen driver, accompanied me to the enlightening evening class. At the program I learned what, I think, is perhaps one of the cruelest facts about teen driving.

Teenagers face a physiological roadblock as drivers: their prefrontal cortexes are underdeveloped—that’s the part of the brain that controls decision making and the ability to predict future consequences—so teens are more likely to take risks than experienced and older drivers (it can take up to age 25 for the frontal lobe to fully mature).

I also learned that while some driving techniques have changed, one safety tip still reigns supreme:  buckle up. According to the CHP, teens have a lower seatbelt usage rate than older adults, and they’re more likely to forget to buckle up when other teens are in the car.

The CHP presented an impactful program; and, after watching Start Smart’s video presentation (think modern day “Red Asphalt”), I thought about turning in my car keys for a bus pass.

Although I’ve found tips to help minimize some of the hazards challenging teen drivers, my pessimistic mind still begs to slam on the brakes and stop my son from speeding toward getting his license.

On the other hand - after spending almost 15 years of my life shuttling my boys to and from various schools, sports events, and social commitments - my optimistic mind looks forward to new found freedom and finding my Fountain of Youth in 2012.