I'm a lucky girl

Yes, I am. Know why? Because of this guy:

Yes, that guy. Tonight he surprised me with my present for my 35th birthday. Here I was thinking it was a day at the spa (in my dreams!) or an overnight with him to somewhere (I had hinted at Chicago again). But no. He surpassed all of that with something even bigger. Something I NEVER would have thought about.

He said, "Close your eyes. No peeking, Nans style! Ok, open."
I open to see a suitcase.
Ok...we're going somewhere! Sweet!
"Any guesses?"
"Not really. It could be anywhere!"
"Ok, close them again. Now open."
I open and see When Harry Met Sally and Serendipity sitting on top of the suitcase. "No way. New York?!"
"Yes, New York!"
He surprised me with a 4 day trip to New York City.

I'm going here.

And here.

Yes, hopefully here too.

All because of him.

I am one lucky girl!

Sometimes you need a pick-me-up

Some days are like that...

That's what Alexander's mom tells him in the book. I suppose that's true in real life, too. Some days are just like that. It doesn't matter what we do to change them. They just are.

Today wasn't what I would call "horrible." It just was...eh. You know those days-you wake up, sit in a meeting, have some behavior issues (are we really talking about turd, fart, and poop in the classroom?), and then it's just eh. I had my moment of breakdown. That was bound to happen sooner or later. The rest of the day was ok.

Maybe it's because I don't see my family as much with school having started. Maybe it's because, you know, of being a girl. Maybe it's because I'm thinking about my mom and what we will find out this week. I'm not sure. Thank goodness for friends who listen to you. And for husbands that get you ice cream. And for kids who would rather you sleep with them than sleep with their stuffed animal (never has happened in our house, but the idea is nice).

Here's to NOT moving to Australia. Here's to a better day for tomorrow. Knowing that this "eh" kind of day happens to the best of us. Even when we're not prepared.

Definition

Defining something can be hard to do.
Defining something can also be easy to do.

Here...let's give it a try:

Ice cream is: sweet, delicious, my favorite treat
School is: fun, exciting, new
Love is: wonderful, indescribable, fulfilling

Now here's another definition for you-one that's been on my mind A LOT lately...

My mom is: loving, positive, giving, brave, forgiving, positive, a fighter, brave, a wife, positive, a sister,  brave, a mother-in-law, positive, a friend, brave...are you sensing the pattern here? Side note...the last time I "defined" my mom was when we had a 5 year survivor celebration. Interesting how words and events can come together. 

This is what we are dealing with right now, at this point in September of this year:

Do you see what it says on that container? Yup. You read it right. Chemotherapy waste-must be incinerated. Burned. No where else to go but up in smoke. We're back here again...doing this thing...after 8 years of not doing it. And in those 8 years I really thought we were done. I really didn't think we would be back here, sitting in this chair-

taking naps while the "icky" medicine attacks the sick cells to make mom better. Neither did she. Neither did my dad. Neither did anyone for that matter. No one wants to think it will happen again.

But back to the Definition of My Mom...brave and positive. Did you notice how many times that came up. It's because I think about it all. The. Time. Just how brave she is. How she marches into this chemo room, hoping that her corner chair is open (so she can see everything that's going on and all of her angels who sit with her can have enough room), ready to take on the medicine that will (in our minds) put her into remission for the time being-or at least shrink all of those ugly cancer spots to 1 or 2 instead of the many that spot her bones in her body. Brave. To know that her hair would fall out. To know that she probably couldn't taste. To know and understand that this time it's different. Brave. Because there isn't a way to really get rid of it. No surgery. No radiation. Just the medicine to fight those cancer cells tooth and nail. Oh...and prayer.

Did I mention that we are people of faith? If you know us, you would know that. We pray every night at our house. And Mamma is always a part of our prayers. Sometimes it's general like, "We pray that Mamma feels better." But sometimes it's specific like, "Please help the medicine fight off the cancer. Please help the doctors and guide them to know what's best." We pray. She prays. Dad prays. Friends and family pray. That brings me to that second word that came up again and again: Positive. Positive in all aspects.

When we first found out about this road we were (once again) going down, it didn't feel different than the last time. It felt the same: we will fight this. We will beat this. Nothing will stop us from getting rid of this again. Yes, there were tears. But there was NEVER, I mean NEVER the thought that this would be any different. You're reading between the lines-we never talked and still haven't talked about what is to come. Some may say that's denial. True, but when the doctor doesn't even tell you what's to come, why worry? As I was able to tell friends, some in person, others over the phone, some wondered, "What's the prognosis?" See, when you are surrounded by positivity and prayer, that doesn't matter. What matters is the here and now. What will they do for her? What's the treatment going to be like? Until the time comes where it is absolutely necessary to think about prognosis, we will spend our time and energy fighting and living our lives, thank you very much! 

Fighting something like cancer seems to be more uplifting when you have kids around. See, A & C weren't around the last time we fought this. In fact, at the tail end of Mom's chemo, we found out we were expecting. God works in those mysterious ways sometimes. You know, with the timing and everything. But now we have these 2 seven year olds who only know Mom as Mamma. They hug her and love her just the same as before. Before school started I brought them with to see what chemo was all about. We talked about the medicine. We talked about the port (A thought Mamma had her chest cut open to get her chemo, so it was a good visual to really see it in person). We had snacks (A's favorite part). And that was it! Seeing this through the eyes of children can change a person's perspective. That's because you can't dwell on it. The kids are moving on with activities and school. They know Mom goes in for treatments, but when they see her, they still talk to her the same as before she was sick. We don't talk about it in a "hush, hush" sort of way. We're really matter of fact about it. I think it helps us all.

So definitions...defining some things can be oh-so-hard, while others can be oh-so-easy. I know what it's like to try to define my mom because I see it and hear it every day. I only hope to be like her as I get older: to have the courage to fight anything that is presented to me. Because that's what she's doing. And I love her even more for it.  

Interview with C at 7 Years Old

Who is your favorite person in the whole world? Mommy
What is your favorite color? blue
What's your favorite television show? Wild Krats
What's your favorite outfit? my Adrian Peterson jersey
What sport do you like best? baseball
What song do you love? That's What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction
What's your favorite cereal? Trix
Who is your best friend? Knut
What do you want to be when you grow up? a race car driver
What's your favorite book? Junie B. Jones books
What are you really good at? playing on my DS, baseball, and wrestling Daddy
Where do you wish to go on vacation? Hawaii
What is your best memory? visiting Oregon and Disneyworld
What would you buy if you had $1000? an iPad, an iPhone, and a few games for my DS
What vegetable do you hat the most? spinach & green beans
If you could have a wish, what would it be? probably to have a motorcycle
What is your favorite flavor of ice cream? Superman
Who is your biggest hero? Daddy
What do you like to do best with your friends? have playdates with them
What do you hope you'll get to do before your next birthday? play football with my friend, Knut

Interview with A at 7 years old

Who is your favorite person in the whole world? Jesus!
What is your favorite color? turquoise
What's your favorite television show? Arthur
What's your favorite outfit? a rainbowy-flower dress that ties behind my neck
What sport do you like best? tennis
What song do you love? Trouble by Taylor Swift
What's your favorite cereal? Captain Crunch (even though we never have it...Mamma Sue does though!)
Who is your best friend? Skylar
What do you want to be when you grow up? a vet and a professional gymnastics person
What is your favorite book? Pinkalicious
What are you really good at? the splits, swimming and snuggling Mommy
Where do you wish you could go on vacation? Disneyland
What is your best memory? being in Oregon
What would you buy if you had $1000? a horsey, even though my mom and dad probably wouldn't let me
What vegetable do you hate the most? lettuce
If you could have a wish, what would it be? to have one million dollars
What is your favorite flavor of ice cream? cookie dough & fudge brownie
Who is your biggest hero? my daddy
What do you like to do best with your friends? play on the playground with them
What do you hope you'll get to do before your next birthday? to ride my horse at Camp Kici Yapi again

How to impress the ladies

The other day while we were at the cabin, J and C were playing catch with the football. This is how the conversation went:

C: Dad, do you know how to impress the ladies?
J: No, Buddy. How do you do that?
C: Well, first you have to get a motorcycle. Then you have to get a ramp that is 11 feet high. Then you have to be able to do back flips off of it. And that's how you impress the ladies.
J: Ok-I'll have to remember all of that.

The funny thing about this conversation is this...When my mom and dad went on their first date my dad came to the house to pick up my mom. On a motorcycle. My grandma made him turn around to go back home and get a car because there was no way she was letting my mom get on a motorcycle with him! I love that story.

Just remember men...a motorcycle and a ramp. That's all you need! If only it was that easy...

How do you tell them?

How do you tell your kids that their Mamma has cancer? Yeah, I wasn't too sure either. But, leave it up to my mom to do the talking. She was great.

The kids know a little bit about mom having had cancer before they were born. They have seen pictures of her without hair. That's about all they really know about her being sick. I wasn't quite sure how they would take it since we haven't had anyone else in our family who has had cancer.

A was the first one to understand what Mom was saying...

A: So your cancer is back?
Mom: Yup.
A: I don't want your cancer to be back.
Mom: Either do I.
A: Will you loose your hair?
Mom: Maybe.
A: What else will happen?
Mom: They'll give me special medicine to help make me better. And I'll need lots of hugs to make me feel better.
*cue the hugs*

Through all of this, C didn't say much. That's kind of what I figured from him. He was more concerned about playing games on Mamma's phone, since that's what Mammas let you do, you know. Mom told A there was a book and she wanted me to read it to her right away. I think it helped a little bit, walking through the emotions we all might feel, how Mom might look different, etc. All of the appearance and how she feels stuff is yet to be seen. All I know is that her belly hurts-different from before-when nothing hurt at all.

The kids will definitely be a bright spot through all of this. They'll bring Mom back to a good place. On her down days, seeing them will bring a smile to her face. On her good days, they'll help make things even better (since gooder isn't a word).

A wanted to see Mamma's wigs from before. Mom already said she's not wearing any if she looses her hair. Good for her! I remember how hot and uncomfortable they were for her. A tried them on the head my mom still has. She was funny about not putting them on herself. :)

We will get through this season of life. Just like we did 8 years ago. It's crazy to think that 9 months ago everything checked out ok. That 5 months ago we were hyper-focused on the heart. And now we're here. AGAIN. Brutal. No one signed up for this. No one wants to be here. But here we are. And ready for the fight of our lives. So to you, ugly cancer spots, hear this:

We are ready to fight you! So to you, ugly cancer cells floating around...this time we are armed with 7 year olds who don't know any better. We have 7 year olds who will pray every day and every night for their Mamma. You don't stand a chance against us!