Well, clearly you can’t be 7. November 8, 2009

Because I’m not remotely old enough to have a 7 year old.  And you look like this in my head.

But you are 7.  And a big first grader.  It’s weird that you spend more time at school during the week than with me and J.  I know you are enjoying school as much as I am enjoying the break, but I still miss our impromptu trips to Georgetown.  And your funny way of telling stories.  I know you are only 7, not going off to college or anything, but you’ll have to forgive Mom for reminiscing about the days when you were my little sidekick.  I love you baby girl, you’re one of my very favorite people.

Happy Birthday L!

 

Way back in the days before technology… November 7, 2009

My husband told me this story, so I’m going to try and remember it correctly.

On Tuesday, while I was at Planina, L lined up all the cousins and her brother on the sofa and wanted to take their picture.  She couldn’t find the camera, but was undaunted.  She found her sketch pad and pen, readied herself to draw their picture and said, “No problem!  I’ll just do something that people did a looooooong time ago, way back in the days before technology…”

“You know, like 1982.”

When it rains… November 3, 2009

1)  you get to keep your drain.  Really bad rhyme.   I know.  Drain stays till Friday.  I’m back on Levaquin (which the doc stopped a while back to put me on Bactrim) because my infection is resistant to Bactrim now.   Yippee.  I get the overachiever bug.  Anyway, Levaquin is scary expensive, even with insurance (For instance, I’m lucky it *only* costs me $50.) with even scarier side effects (like your Achilles tendon detaching somehow…)  Anyway, I’ve just got to keep in mind I’ve taken more toxic things in my life, like chemo and some really bad stuffed green peppers I made long ago.  I still have 8 pills of Levaquin left from a previous prescription and I’m hoping I can take those (I think he only wanted me on it for 5), so cross your fingers for me that the goddess of cheapness smiles on me and I can use it.

2) Pray for a friend’s mother (who is also my friend) whose Mom is dying.  You are never too old to miss your mother.  Or your grandma.  Or your great-grandma.

3)  Pray for my sister and her husband, for his mother passed away unexpectedly last night.  Death is never easy, expected or otherwise.

4) Pray a bit for me, because tomorrow all their children will be at my house.  I can handle it and it will be fine.  But a little prayer never did anybody any harm.  

4!?! Holey Moleg! October 12, 2009

How can my baby be 4?  I mean I should have been ready for it.  I did plan the party, ramen noodles and all.  The boy chose ramen for his birthday lunch. (It takes 7 packages of ramen to feed 14 people.  Just in case you were wondering.)  Watching him play with his new toys and his cousins, I just marvel at how much he’s grown in the last year.  His vocabulary is growing, “I not ‘noxious, Mom.  I just pwaying.”  “Holy Moleg!”  “I can’t know that.”  I find myself using that last one a lot.

And I have to admit, my favorite pictures are the ones that show his lovely quirky personality.  Someday he’ll forgive me for posting them on the internet, right?

Happy Birthday, little guy!  Don’t grow up too fast.  I’m not ready.

When it’s cold October 8, 2009

I like to bake.  And Colorado’s drizzly/snowy weather today is just perfect for that.  Happily, my friend Sarah posted a recipe for Pumpkin Gingerbread, which is now baking in the oven.   I did have to lighten it up a bit out necessity rather than taste.  I ran out of oil and sugar so I had to add some applesauce and 1 cup of sugar substitute (I’m trying out Xylitol.  We’ll see how that goes.)

My Mom called and wanted to know where I got the pumpkin.  (Apparently Floridian grocery stores don’t carry it until Thanksgiving.)  I am actually still using up some of my chemo brain pumpkin.  I’m not sure if I ever blogged about this, but I know I’ve told the story many times.  At some point last year, I developed a subconscious craving for pumpkin.  I never actually put it on the grocery list and I don’t actually remember doing it, but I guess I picked up a couple cans of pumpkin every time I went to the store and then put them away when I got home and promptly forgot about them.  About mid October, I decided to rearrange the pantry closet and found that I had purchased at least eight cans of pumpkin.  And one can of sweet potatoes.  And a butternut squash.  I have actually used 3 cans in just the last month.  And I still have more.

I guess I like my squash.

New J funny:

The boy has trouble with s and m’s  (no snickering).  So today he kept asking me for a noovie, which I took to mean “movie”.  Which was wrong.  He wanted a smoothie.  So I took this opportunity to work on the sm sound.  Sssssmmmoothie.    Ssssnoovie.   Ssssmoo.   Sssssnooo.  Ssssmah.   Ssssmah.  Sssmoo.   Ssssnooo.  Ssssmoothie.  Snoovie.

Snoovie it is.  One new correct letter sound is a win, yes?

It isn’t even October yet… September 30, 2009

1.  And the pink ribbons are out.  Breast Cancer Awareness month can be a pretty sensitive topic for many survivors.  For some of us, it brings back the horror of the cancer ordeal.  For others, it feels like exploitation.  Here’s my take on it.  Large corporations donate a portion of their proceeds to Breast Cancer Research.  Which is good.  And we get a product with a pink ribbon on it reminding us that we are helping.  Which is also good.  But if you really want to make your money count, think about donating directly to Komen.  Or the American Cancer Society.  Edited to add: maybe not the American Cancer Society.  Read this and decide. That way ALL of the money goes to research.  And YOU get the tax break.  Not the big companies.  I’m not saying to stop buying yogurt with pink lids (though have you checked out how much high fructose corn syrup is in those babies?  No wonder they taste like dessert!)  If you want to wear a ribbon to remember someone or show support for someone.  You go right ahead.  Just don’t buy the Breast Cancer Kitchenaid.  (Unless you REALLY love pink.  Then it’s ok.)

2.  And the Halloween stuff has been out since the school supplies went on clearance.  I am resisting buying candy early.  I did, however, cave and get the kiddos their costumes.  So here it is.  A little Halloween preview.

I believe there is a FFFFFTT noise coming from J in this picture. Imaginary adamantium claws, no doubt.

3.  BTW.  I did buy breast cancer awareness cheese today.  But it was cheaper than the regular cheese.   And the actual cheese wasn’t pink.  Grins.

Imagine. September 6, 2009

You’re told you have cancer.  You need life saving surgery that might disfigure you for life.  You need chemo.  You will lose your hair.  You will feel sicker than you ever have in your life.  You might die.

Imagine all this.  Except you’re a kid.

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.

I’ve told this story before, but the first person to really help me come to grips with having cancer was Dawn.  Her daughter, Sam, was diagnosed with cancer roughly 8 months before I was.  Dawn was the one to tell me to get off the internet.  Not to look at the statistics.  To ask for clinical trials.  She took the time to help me when, by all rights, she could have just focused on her crisis.  But I’m finding that’s not what cancer survivors do.  We help those who come after.

So I’m helping.  Check out Dawn’s blog and the Miracle Party, a fund raising event for all childhood cancers; leukemia, neuroblastomas, aplastic anemia and a host of other -emias and -omas that children and their parents should never have to face.

Observations September 2, 2009

1.  It cracks me up that L can read, write, and correctly spell the word turkey.  But pronounces it churckee.

2.  J threw a fit on the way to the doctor yesterday.  “I don’t wanna go to the pwastic surgeons!  I want to go to the OTHER doctor!”  There are no toys at the plastic surgeon’s office, but there is a slide at the family doctor’s.

a)  I find it both humorous and sad that my 3 year old knows the words plastic surgeon, drain, surgery and other medical jargon he’s picked up over the last year.

3.  I am tired of surgery.  Strike that.  I’m tired of recovering from surgery.

4.  Despite all the sad things, the crappy things, and the annoying things I’ve dealt with this year, I still think I had a great summer.  I got to spend wonderful time with John’s family, my family and friends.  The kids got to do fun things and both kids are on their way to actually learning how to swim.  I got to perform in a few concerts.  My life is good.

5.  I just walked in on L reading to J.  Love it.

I didn’t even know there WAS a day for cupcakes. August 18, 2009

Happy National Cupcake Day!  I, for one, can get behind a holiday celebrating cupcakes.  So the kids  and I made some and delivered them to their neighborhood friends. 

Most super awesome week ever – Part 2 July 23, 2009

Helping Mama.

So Tuesday morning rolls around and still we have no power.  We actually lucked out in terms of damage but there was (and is still) a lot of clean up to do.  Taking the children aside, we talked about how when things like this happen, we come together as a family to help make our yard right again.  Got the kids on board and we cleaned up the driveway.  In fact, it was pretty cute.  We have a neat gaggle of children on our block, ages 3ish to 11ish, and they were all at each others’ houses helping with the pick up.  So, when we were done with the driveway, I let the kids go play in the basement.

Here’s where my day starts to droop.

We have one of those ancient bouncy horses in our basement and apparently the kids decided to see if they could exceed the maximum load.  Of course the horse fell over and the kids bonked their heads, but they seemed ok to me, so I finished my conversation with a neighbor and about 15 to 20 minutes later I went to check on them.  Couldn’t find the girl.  I asked her friend where she was and he told me she had gone to bed.  Mama Spidey Sense is starting to tingle now, so I wake her up and she is still crying about how much her head hurts.

So let’s take a reality check here.

1.  Tired kid after hitting head.

2.  Mom on medication who can’t drive.

3.  No power.

After checking with my friend the PA in GA (heehee) who is quickly becoming my medical interpreter, the decision is made to go to the hospital.

Luckily the grandparents were home and one took the boy while the other took the girl and I to the hospital.  L barfs in Grandma’s car.  Mama Spidey Sense is now smashing me over the head with a frying pan.  And I get to hold a barfy towel for the rest of the trip.  We made it to the ER without further incident and took L inside to get checked out.  They got us right in but there was a really long wait for the CT.  (Cat spelled CT not CAT, L likes to tell people when she tells the story.)   The nurses and doctors had L retell the story of how she hit her head a bazillion times and I will say it’s very scary when your 6 year old who usually knows her birthday cold has to be prompted.  The first tellings of the story were very confused, probably sounding a lot like I did last year on chemo.  Much too freaky.

Towards the end, after the CT, she began to perk up and start speaking her little college professor English again.  The last time she told The Story, it started off like this, “Apparently, you’re not supposed to put 3 people on a bouncy horse…”  (Apparently, she has heard her mother use the word “apparently” a  few too many times…)   The other thing that made me laugh was her insistence that the room smelled like barf.  No YOU smell like barf darling.  Because you barfed.  She just couldn’t be convinced that was what it was.

We made it home and their daddy called to see how we were and whether I was still going to Planina.

Heck ya, I’m going to Planina.  Are you kidding?

Oh, and bring some McDonalds please.

Shouldn’t we be eating out of the…

MCDONALDS PLEASE

I had pie for dinner before rehearsal.  I’m such the picture of health.  Grins.

To Be Continued