Happy birthday, Gramps!

 I dunno how old my Dad’s dad would be today, but I always find it funny that his birthday is the same as the amazing Dr. Seuss! Today our preK crowd will be wearing pajamas and we will be reading one of my all-time favorites, the Sleep Book. It’s Seuss week, so there are lots of Shenanigans planned and I’m sure there will be plenty of spontaneous, kid-originated Shenanigans as well!

I will be wearing my minion pajamas bottoms- yes, the ones from Despicable Me- and I will most likely still be wearing them to my PT appointment right after school. Last week we had a silly sock day so I got to wear my Wonder Woman socks- which have capes on them, by the way- to PT and the woman who works on me approved highly. I’m just here for comic relief.

Since it’s March and we will have St. Patty’s Day to celebrate soon, I bought our yearly Lucky Charms so there’s a happy teenage boy munching away this morning. Congrats, everyone, for making it through February!

Have a great day!

A dose of hilarity

 A lot of you have probably heard a version of Ephesians 6:4 where it reminds, "Fathers, don't frustrate your children with no-win scenarios. Take them by the hand and lead them in the way of the Master." Some versions read, "don't provoke your children to anger" or "do not exasperate your children". However, in our household, and perhaps in yours, math homework and test prep are cause for exasperation on the parts of all parties involved (and some of us who are innocent bystanders, as meltdowns tend to spill over into aftermath- haha, I wasn't even trying!) 

At one point, Dada declared that all fractions needed simplified, forever. As Damon protested that, "we don't have to do that!!!!!" Dada informed him that, yes, he did, unless we received a signed note from his teacher saying otherwise.

Imagine my snorted giggles when I opened Damon's folder to find this!

***

The entire reason I bought the calendar. I've been waiting for this month all year.

***

Truthfully, these pajamas apply to more People That I Live With than the child shown, but they fit him well enough that he got to model. He's doing a PaPa face, I think, though I see some of my  Uncle Jeff in there, too. Child needs a keeper. Can't keep track of his belongings and paperwork for nothin'! At least he doesn't have to simplify fractions. 

Mid-March moments

We celebrated Grandma Barb's birthday with chocolate donuts, which we all knew she would appreciate. They hopped into my cart at the store the day before her birthday, so I blame her. She was a huge chocolate fan, often smuggling me Dove chocolates, and hiding M&M's in her pockets. She's been gone five years already and we often giggle about her love of bananas, which bordered on addiction, how she would have gotten a kick out of the things the kids say and do, and how I hear her voice in my head when I ask, "how's everybody doing today?" Gone but not forgotten, for sure. Happy birthday, Grandma Barb.

And because I do have a wee bit of Irish in me, I felt I should represent for St. Patrick's Day:

And, heaven help me, I decided to clean out the boys' closets and dresser. I told Zita to send in a search party if she didn't hear from me again in a timely fashion. 

Holy Moses, does this kid have a lot of clothes! For someone who has been in pajamas for the majority of the last eleven months, I was blown away by how much he has. These pictures are all from Damon's closet!
 

I made a ton of progress. We have a large box to give to a friend with slightly smaller guys than ours, and bags to head to goodwill. That Cuisinart box in the background was full of clothes for him to wear in fall of 2020, but as I've stated already, he stayed in pajamas because we didn't go anywhere, so I never even opened it. I'm fairly certain none of it will fit him in the fall/winter of 2021 because the kid got LONG. Things tend to get boxed up around here and then hang out a week or two before making it to their final destination, so if you of anyone who needs size 10-12 shirts, long or short sleeves, let me know!

I should have taken pictures of Liam's dresser drawers. We discovered a long time ago that rolling his clothes works better than folding them, but during the pandemic he's also been in mostly pajamas and has taken to just yeeting stuff in the drawer any which way. The drawers have never closed well anyway, so they just yawn open and patiently receive whatever he's trying to jam in there. Well, I discovered that he had shoved dress shirts in there as well, and was not pleased. First of all, those suckers are long sleeved and take up more room, and second, I do not iron. Ever. He assured me the wrinkles will fall back out now that they're hung up, and let's be honest, we're not going anywhere for awhile that he would need them, but still. To quote a friend and fellow karate mom, "the child isn't right!" 

Anyway, we got his dresser mostly sorted but did not even attempt to deal with the huge bin of rolled up clothes that has been lurking in his closet. Divide and conquer. If he'd just quit growing, that would help. Looks like he's grown two inches in the last year and that's just eyeballing it. Yiiiiiikes. Good thing it's almost shorts season because I don't know how we'll keep him in pants otherwise...

Another 15 year old in the house

An artist friend of ours, the talented Heidi Jacobs, created some terrific Halloween pieces. I showed Liam the photos on facebook and told him we'd get him one for his birthday, so he chose "the batty bat mug" and is delighted by how much hot cocoa it holds. Thank you, Heidi! 

This photo is so you can all marvel at his humungous feet.

And this one is so you can marvel at how much hair he has. I sent this picture to Zita to see if he has as much hair as Nina!

Liam has a favorite tree because of its humungous yellow leaves. I don't remember what kind it is, but he makes sure to hug it every year, haha. His favorite colors are still yellow and gold, just like when he was a baby and adored his stuffed yellow giraffe, Geoffrey, who is still in his bedroom somewhere.

We measured him a few weeks ago and he was 5'7", making him officially taller than me. He's probably crept past that now.

 Mister Minty had himself a birthday. He still requests all things mint: mint chocolate chip ice cream, peppermint sugar cookies, "minty circles" (otherwise known to the rest of the world as Lifesavers), Thin Mints, minty hot cocoa... it's hard to keep mint extract on hand around here. So these were a big hit from Grandmama, and I haven't had a single one yet!

He also may be a little Lego obsessed.

 I asked what he wanted for his birthday and he chose mint chocolate chip cookies. As I'm rummaging around in the pantry for the bag of Andes mint chips that I knew I had in there, he strolled in and asked what I was looking for.

"Oh, I ate those a long time ago." 

I did smack my forehead and not him, thank you very much. 

Regular chips with a brand new mint extract it is! And eyeballs, because I used pumpkin, ghost, and moon cookie cutters. Everything turned into blobs as chocolate chip cookies don't behave the same way as sugar cookies, but that didn't change their deliciousness any.

And Dada found some high-end minty cupcakes!

You probably don't see anything in this picture, because Liam is standing sideways and is therefore invisible. Pretty sure he hasn't even hit 100# yet. (The baby gate keeps the dogs out of the kitchen, in case you're wondering.)

I came downstairs Halloween morning to find Liam, caped and perched gargoyle-style on top of the ladder in the sunroom. The ladder was up because Dada was kindly installing plant hooks for my ferns. There's a low rumble from above, "the birthday boy sits upon his throne." I do believe I snorted. He is in every respect a Halloween child.

We skipped trick or treating this year. It just didn't seem like a good idea given the germs floating around, so we dressed up the dogs instead. Honey is wearing a pumpkin bib and Bos is a hot dog, haha!

At this point, wearing real clothes feels like Halloween for the boys as they've been the pajamas the majority of the time since March. Anytime they're told to put on real pants these days they are automatically suspicious because with the remote learning they're doing there are no actual people being seen or being seen by. Think Khan Academy but dryer. Damon has the occasional Zoom meeting but Liam has zero, hence the pajamas all day, every day. By the time we get back to street clothes, nothing Liam owns is going to fit because he's growing so fast. We tease him regularly about being Groot from "Guardians of the Galaxy", especially when he rumbles some reply to us. 

His braces will come off on Tuesday, so he is very much looking forward to devouring his favorite candy bars that he's been very responsible about not having. We got him a decent supply of Twix, so that should last him an afternoon or so. 

Overall, a pretty fun kid. I think we'll keep him. 

Bread and hot pie

 Dada is our resident bread baker, so when a friend asked, "would you guys like a sourdough starter" it came as no surprise to me that he jumped at the chance. To his credit, he did ask me, too, haha!

So here he is, finessing his skills with a future sourdough loaf. No, the potting soil didn't go into it. Yes, that's a marble slab that we've had for years. It's the cutout of a counter where the sink would be placed, and he bought it for a ridiculously small amount of money since to the company holding it considered it as waste. It keeps a cooler temperature for working with dough, so it's perfect. 

Bread making is definitely a lesson in patience. It takes time to find the right spots in your home that are A) warm enough, B) safe enough from dogs and kids, C) visible enough that you don't forget about it when you inevitably get sidetracked into other projects while you're waiting for it to do its thing! We had a batch rising in the sun puddle upstairs in our bedroom, one cozied up beside the crock pot, and one enjoying the steam from the dishwasher. 

Dada and I got dressed for Easter, but the boys were still in their pajamas. That's pretty much all I wash these days, and major props to this sweet man who fixed the washer! The kids were astounded and commented, "wow, is this what is used to sound like? It's so quiet!" Well done! I am getting spoiled having this terrific hubby of mine home all the time. It's going to be rough when life returns to some semblance of normal. 

It was the quietest Easter we've ever had. I'm sure many of you felt the same. We attended our church online, and we caught most of Uncle Kelly's service online as well despite their technical difficulties. I'm pretty sure it was the first Easter without grandparents in attendance in a long, long time. We didn't do clues for baskets but bags of candy were quietly slipped onto their beds during the day, to their great delight that evening. I think candy is our kids' love language, haha! 

I did enjoy a belly laugh with Thing 1 the other day when she handed me a riddle meme to which I proudly and confidently declared a completely wrong answer. She started laughing at my confidence and then neither of us could breathe at my answer. It depicted a combination of an angle, which I mistook as the less than sign, like this < which was followed by a steaming mug of coffee which was in turn followed by the symbol for pi. I announced, "you are less than hot pie!"

She almost died. "I got it right away! You are a cutie pie!" 
/acute tea pi/

I liked my answer better. Teehee. I'm fairly sure that line will be worked in to as many conversations as possible when the other person is unsuspecting... at any rate, it was the hardest we'd laughed for awhile! 

Hip hip hooray halfway!

Yesterday was my third chemo round which officially puts me halfway through this aspect of treatment! Wahoo! Thank you so much for praying over me and supporting my whole fam through this adventure. I firmly maintain that I've still never felt like a file number, not even once. I've been treated with respect, kindness, compassion, professionalism, and humor the whole way. I know a lot of that is a testament to the higher ups who do the hiring of fabulous professionals, but I also know that your prayers of protection and soothing-ness are contributing factors. Please keep it up as they are working. 

To be honest, I'm trying to not look ahead to the impending surgery as that just seems overwhelming at this point. At the very least it will involve a right side mastectomy. I don't have enough information (though I have tons of questions) to make a decision on reconstruction or not and/or if I should leave the left side alone as nothing has shown up there (yet? ever?) or have it removed and be done with it. All those Q&As will come at a surgical consult that I'd rather have sooner than later. I'll keep you posted. ;) I'm also a side and stomach sleeper which makes me anxious as I'm assuming I'll have to sleep upright while recovering. I'm also not looking forward to being put completely under with being tubed and cathed and all that. Yiiiiikes. Like I said, trying to be in the now and not the eeeeeeeek-then. One thing at a time...

For those of you who are the "where are the numbers" types, on May 31 my white blood count as 15.4 and yesterday it was 10.21, so it's down but not alarmingly. My hemoglobin was 11.0 May 31 and yesterday registered 10.4, also down. I asked if I should be eating more red meat or anything but my adorable Doc said, "think of your bone marrow as a factory. You have all the raw materials you need, but the chemo means your machinery is slower. Just keep taking your multivitamin, that's all you need." That was reassuring and a great mental picture for me! I'm assuming PLT means platelets and they were 247 in May and yesterday was 170. He said all were in the realm of normal and to not worry about it. He was pleased that I was doing so well and said that my big smile when he entered the room made his day. Another important number is my favorite; I only needed Immodium three times this past cycle instead of the 7-10 times I used it the first round. Can I get an amen and several hallelujahs!? Again, I know it's your prayers and I won't name names but you know who you are so thank you! 

Blackbutton, you asked about the Neulasta and yes, I was told to take Claritin and Aleve to help with the bone pain. I take a Claritin generic almost daily anyway, and I might have already said that Aleve works great for my dad but my mom can't tolerate it so I brought that up with my doctor and she said, "then stick with Advil since that works with you and don't risk the Aleve"- fine by me. I tried it this last round and managed to head off the old-lady-I-need-one-of-those-self-raising-chairs pain, wahoo! I took Advil the first day and was in pretty good shape, skipped it the second day because I didn't feel like I needed it but then didn't sleep well at all because my darn femurs hurt, so I took it before bed the third day and that was much better. Then I didn't need it anymore.

 My patch for this round is on and should fire early this evening and then I won't be a lightning bug anymore, haha. Dada told me I should sit out on the porch last night, blinking away, and see who I could attract. I thought it would be fun, but something (other than my husband) snuck into bed with me Tuesday night and chomped all over my torso. I didn't want to invite anymore bug bites so I abstained from attracting any more unfriendly visitors to my poor itchy bod! My Doc checked it out and said it's definitely not shingles or poison ivy or an allergic reaction. And it wasn't from weeding the garden because I only got 2 bug bites out there. Something definitely crawled into my pajamas! Stupid bugs... 

Liam had an appointment with his pediatrician and asked what chemo would do to bugs. Dr. Jon had a good chuckle and said, "wouldn't it be great if it had bit you and flew into the neighbor's yard and dropped dead? But think about the awful stuff some of them carry already..."
Liam piped up, "like malaria!"
Dr. Jon continued, "right, and Zika and West Nile and all that. I think chemo probably wouldn't do anything to them since they're capable of hosting all that icky stuff as it is..."
Well phooey! 

My Rita kept me good company yesterday while Mommee watched the Thingz and Bosley Underfoot. Not sure who needs a bigger medal. ;) Again, thanks for the support, the dinners, the cards, flowers, prayers, visits, groceries- you all are amazing, near and far! I have several more posts to do, but we are off to get some summertime bowling in since it is pouring today and then karate tonight. Have a fabulous weekend! 

Snippets and scans

Today I have two scans, two more personal medical firsts, and I'm kind of excited about them. Definitely intrigued. 

I'm having my very first CT scan done and my first bone scan. While I am not thrilled about more injections into me, this time of contrast dye, I think the technical aspect of both sounds fascinating. I'm sure Liam is going to wish he was with me when I relate the procedure with the camera passing over me. If you're interested, I thought this link was fun: bone scan 

Once again, I'm not supposed to eat or drink anything as of two hours before the tests. Some sites say I'll be drinking water throughout them, so that would be okay with me... I hate feeling like I'm shriveling up from the inside out.

I've been struck by how much chemo reminds me of pregnancy. I know I've told some of you this already, but let me enlighten any who are curious as to how that could be. 

I always called pregnancy a "total-body takeover" which I think was coined Vicki Iovine in her "The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy" which is absolutely hilarious and spot on. There seem to be no body systems not affected by being pregnant.

Chemo seems very similar, which makes sense to me a non-medical person, because it's sheer volumes of chemicals being dumped into an otherwise unsuspecting body. I can picture my cells holding various bits and pieces and musing, "hmm. What am I supposed to do with all this new stuff?" I can see baby cells slamming them together like a 6 month old sitting up child whacks blocks together, maybe only connecting pieces by accident. Then the big cells look at each other and shrug, "okay, we'll give it a try!"

My GI tract is just off enough to cause excitement that nobody wants. The various medications had predicted anything from constipation to diarrhea, and let me just mention that I am not having constipation issues. Immodium is my new friend, people. 

Tastes and smells are affected, so even if something sounds appealing, which is getting rarer, it doesn't always stay that way once it's in front of me. For a Hobbit, not enjoying eating is just pitiful. Even cookies aren't appealing right now. Cookies!

I told the kids yesterday that my mouth felt like I'd been sucking on a camel. Not a freshly washed camel, mind you, but one that had been through 40 days and 40 nights in the desert. Liam, of course, asked how I knew what a camel tasted like. You know that puckery feeling your mouth gets if you fall prey to temptation and eat way too many sour Warheads or something similar? Or even an obscene amount of movie theater popcorn? My mouth and lips and soft palate all feel pebbled. PSA: do not attempt to enjoy Atomic Fireballs in this condition. You have been warned. I was afraid I was going to have crisped children as I was pretty sure that I could actually breathe fire. Wow. Not the smartest thing I've ever done, but now I know. All Fireballs will be joining my hair ties and other supplies until chemo is over. Yikes. 

I've been told alcohol-free mouthwash and a baking soda with salt rinse help, and they do. Gum, not so much. Gonna take some getting used to, sadly.

Remember the hair, skin, nails changes, ladies? Yep, that too. It is easier to pluck as my hair is loosening, so there's a perk, I guess, but I'm sporting a third eye between my eyebrows and another on my chin right now that make me think not-so-fondly of high school days...

On the plus side, short hair is much easier to keep clean-ish and my hairballs don't look like tumbleweeds any longer. One of the reasons I stick with long hair is I'm too lazy and cheap to do the required maintenance cuts every 4-6-8 weeks to keep a short 'do looking the way it should. I won't have to worry about that this time. Soon I may look like Sinead O'Connor and then Mr. Clean! Wheeeee! Talk about streamlined mornings. Eyeliner, earrings, and out the door. I've already quit with the mascara as I'm losing quite a few eyelashes when I rub them. Just not worth taking more off with the mascara, I suppose. Yes, Mommee, I will remember the sunscreen. I promise. Ain't nobody want to see a peely, sunburned, egg of a head. Did I already talk about the chicken pox? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look. When I was a kid, my brother graciously shared his chicken pox with me one summer. I remember lying on a sheet on the couch and wanting to scratch something, anything, but being told not to because it would leave a scar. I remember thinking, "there has to be someplace I can scratch where nobody will ever see." My aha moment hit and I elatedly began scratching my scalp for all I was worth. It felt wooooonderful, and now all I can wonder is, how pockmarked will my scalp be in a few weeks when I get to see the damage I inflicted? Oh well! Serves me right! The kids have already asked if they can draw constellations on my head with magic markers if the scars are there. I know you're all dying of not surprise. 

Feelings. Wow, the feels are all over and dripping off of the map, just like during pregnancy. Some moments I think, "I've got this" and the next I feel like I need to watch every sad movie I've ever seen in a marathon so I can finally get all the tears and snot and frustration out. The problem is that those feelings usually creep out towards bedtime when I'm most tired and vulnerable, and everyone knows that when you cry at bedtime that your eyes are all swollen and icky the next day and your pillow is wet and your nose stuffs up so you can't breathe through your clogged nose which makes you breathe through your mouth and dries out your throat... no thanks, I've got enough going on, thanks. I will have to schedule my prescribed good cry and not at bedtime. 

So all of these lovely issues, and no baby at the end. Why did I sign up for this again? Hmmm. Turns out living with breast cancer is relatively easy. Living with the treatment of it is an entirely different can of worms, one I'm not even sure I want to open the whole way. Bleh. 

Enough about me. I do not want this blog to be hijacked by cancer. It gets enough from me as it is. 

Picture this: a second grade, rather tall for his age boy in pajamas and a hoodie, backpack weighted down by 6 hardback library books and 1 self-owned paperback, a lunchbox, his daily folder, a snack container of cheezits, and a small flashlight. Additionally he's carrying a cloth grocery bag stuffed with his pillow and two throws, waiting for the bus. His face is tearstained because he's not taking the sleeping bag which is bigger than he is. I compromised on the extra throw, one for under him and one for on top of him, but he's still not having it. Today is the read a thon and phys ed, and his heart was set on lugging even more than he already had to school. We already had the talk about "are you sure you wanna take so many books? This is really heavy!" "I got it, Mom!" We already talked about how no matter what he's going to have a fun day. To shift perspective and thus hopefully attitude, I mentioned that while he's reading in his pajamas all comfy and cozy with his friends, I'd be at the hospital again getting poked for more tests. He's subdued where he had been mutinous, but I hate that I have to ever play the cancer card. This morning was not my best from a digestion standpoint, and making it out to the bus stop with him was looking iffy but we made it. He boarded the bus with all his Stuff and life went on. I hate how this summer is going to be hard on them in regards to what I physically will and will not be able to do, but we will soldier on. I can't wait to hear after my scans how much fun he had and what the best part was. Which reminds me, I need to pack a book for all the waiting I'm going to be doing in between scans while waiting for the dye to get where it needs to go... maybe this weekend I can stay in my pajamas and have a read in! Come on over, and bring your books! 

Counting today, there are only five days left of the school year. Can I get an eeeeeeeeeeeeek?!

Chalk Artist

 

Way back in the day, PaPa used to tell my BFF Lisa and I that we needed rain. I may have told this story before. We'd dutifully get out our sidewalk chalk, decorate as much of his front walk as we could, and then wait. Sure enough, within three days it'd rain.

 

 

We dug our sidewalk chalk out of the toy bin and got colorful. The driveway was covered in rainbows, hopscotch, numbers, flowers, suns, clouds, and everything else you can think of in no time. Damon even modeled this rainbow (below) after the one I did (above) with no prompting.

 

And yes, every chalk artist worth his salt does his best work while wearing pajamas, right?

 

For those keeping track, yes, it rained within three days.

Twas the Night Before Christmas... Er, Camp

Boys are so different. It's almost 7 PM the night before Liam heads off to his first week of week-long summer camp, and he is one cool cucumber. He's packed. One small suitcase, one shower caddy, one overflowing fabric grocery bag containing sleeping bag. One calm spirit.

By now, many, many, MANY moons ago, I'd have had my suitcase packed and repacked three different times. And I still forgot to pack a bath towel. Eh, that's what beach towels are for. All-purpose. My new friend Erin forgot to pack pajamas. It didn't affect either of our weeks. You learn to adapt at camp.

Maybe that's why one of my favorite sayings from camp is, "suck it up! It's camp!"

It makes me incredibly sad that I won't be hearing it from Tammy this summer, but she's not going to be there, either, so it makes me feel a little bit less badly.

A tiny bit.

Perhaps.

Nope, not really.

Anyway, how weird will it be to check in and then hike over to The Guys' Side and install a boy camper Over There!? My goodness! The times have changed. No longer am I sneaking over there with my BFF (who shall remain nameless, to protect the Guilty, of course) with pink toilet paper smuggled from home to decorate the boys' cabin. Why pink? One, it was extra humiliating for the boys, and two, that proved it was from home and we weren't wasting camp supplies. Even then we had consciences.

I'm all nostalgic. Seems to be happening a lot in the past few months. I'm not sure I should be old enough to be nostalgic!

Happy birthday to Uncle Jeff today, and happy first official day of summer, everyone. Please ignore any sniffles you hear as I speed across I-80 back home tomorrow.

Guess I'll just have to console myself with the White Turkey and Peggy Gray's.....................