Goliath is down!

*Viewer discretion is advised for photographic content*

Once again, I am humbled and blessed by the faithfulness of my mighty God. In a week full of scary firsts, he held me close through every medical test, chemotherapy administration, and port placement surgery, not to mention keeping all 3 Things safe on their field trips, rides to and from and during karate, and Real Life in general. I truly do not understand how those who choose to do life without God can even summon enough courage to get out of bed in the morning.

Some of you know from my frantic "I am going to bite something, someone, anything" texts how badly I cope at waiting while being hungry and thirsty. I was instructed to eat or drink nothing, not chew gum, not consume mints, nothing after midnight on Thursday in preparation for the port surgery Friday around lunch. For those of you keeping track, that meant this Hobbit would miss breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, and perhaps not be eating until afternoon tea, which is just about as unacceptable as it gets for a poor, pitiful, pathetic Hobbit whose brain felt like it had shriveled to the size of a raisin in the back of her head by the time she was rolling into surgery. I've tried to be really, really good about drinking especially as I want my veins to be stab-able on the first try! To not have any water in me was terrifying, and I wasn't sure they'd be able to use the IV needle that my kind oncologist's office had left in just in case.

Thankfully they were after flushing it and making sure there were no signs of infection brewing. I was still poked to give blood, but Steve was quick and compassionate and so sweet that he made the first few tears fall. For whatever reason, it is so hard sometimes to be on the receiving end of kindness. Sometimes I wish they'd just be brisk and then leave, but the extra encouraging word just about breaks my heart.

Soon enough we met with the surgeon one more time to go over what would happen, and then met the anesthesiologist who had his own questions to which I answered, "I'm a boring patient." He grinned at me and said he liked boring patients. I felt like I was in good hands. The friendly, cute nurses came to stick in my relaxing, "pre-anesthesia margarita" (as my Aunt Chris calls it) and wheeled me off to the OR. 

I remember commenting that Liam would love the OR because the lights reminded me of an octopus, the huge digital clock on the wall, the myriad of Stuff I'd never know the purposes of. I met another nurse but didn't catch her name. I don't remember anything else. 

Apparently, according to Dada, while under general anesthesia, I grilled my surgeon about if he'd always wanted to be a doctor. I don't even remember seeing him or the anesthesiologist enter the room! I can just hear Nana laughing about "how nebby" I am... nice to know that my subconscious and my mouth still take over even when I'm under. Yikes.

When I woke up in recovery there were more nurses to meet, and my sweet friend Cheryl from mammograms came to take my chest X-Ray, a precautionary measure after port insertion as that procedure does involve sticking a needle and catheter into a big vein. They could potentially puncture a lung, hence the "before you go anywhere, you're getting an X-Ray" habit. In my case, all was well. Yay! Good job, everybody!

I think I spent close to an hour in recovery, looking around, watching the nurses, hearing the heartbreaking cough of a small person, chitchatting with whichever nurse was checking on me, finally some ice water after my X-Ray showed all was well, and I think my surgeon came in to say the first spot they tried twice didn't work so they had to move to plan B, which was something we'd covered ahead of time.  

They wheeled me out to the post-recovery place where I was allowed to get dressed with Dada's help, went over how to take care of things, some more chit chat to yet another friendly, smiling nurse. I was released with a scrip for pain meds and sent on my way with well-wishes.

Every single person there was once again, kind, thoughtful, comforting, encouraging. Thank you God for the medical personnel you have in my life!

We dropped off my scrip, headed to one of our favorite down town restaurants where I finally got to dig into some fries and a BLT and the best ice water with lemon I swear I've ever tasted. Then Dada ordered pie a la mode and I ate almost all his ice cream.

We picked up my meds, including an allergy med and Aleve which I'm supposed to take during and after my infusion for my white blood cell booster. 

We went home and tucked me into a big chair with my snazzy fancy blanket from my girls where I zoned out with a few episodes of Star Trek- The Next Generation. Yes, I'm a nerd. I wasn't sure I'd have the brain power to stay awake through anything with real thought required. I almost dozed off multiple times as it was.

Dada brought me an ice pack for over my incisions and a heating pad for over the back of my neck and shoulders, which was definitely the sorest part. I must have been propped up pretty high during the surgery or something because my range of motion as far as turning my head went is still a little affected. The heating pad worked wonders and I might replace it again tonight. I went to sleep with it and the ice pack and slept about 4 hours with them mostly in place before I woke up to use the bathroom and drink some more. I got several more hours of sleep until the morning noise around here (i.e. Bosley and birds) got too distracting. I needed to drink some more and use the bathroom again anyway, haha.

So I took all my meds that I needed to take for the first half of today, had breakfast, and headed off to karate graduation, which went very well. I sat with two of my best karate mom friends and my family and watched Damon receive his black belt! Yay kiddo! Lots of hard work went into that, let me tell you. I'll post pictures as soon as I get them from Dada's phone to mine...

Yet another thank you to every person who has been praying, for those of you sticking me on the prayer lists you know about, for lifting me up, for sending me cards and Stuff, for the cookies and the texts and the love that we are feeling every step of this journey. I can't express how amazing it is to be so covered! Thank you! You are wonderful and I am so thankful that God has put you in my life!

I realize this is a private photo and much thought has gone into placing it here where it will no longer be private. The truth is that this is all crazy and confusing and will very likely get much worse before it gets better. I don't know what five more sessions of chemo will do to me other than hair loss for sure. I have no idea what kind of future surgery awaits me, what the scarring from that will look like inside where nobody can see it and out where the whole world could, or how I will feel when this whole adventure is over and I'm proclaimed in remission, should that be God's will. 

I picked this one because I am smiling. I am upright and healing. I look strong after what has been the hardest week of my life. 

"You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous- how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." ~Psalm 139:13-16

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." ~Proverbs 31:25

Goliath never stood a chance.

Finally, Goliath

Today is Friday. Today I get my port placement surgery, or as Dada laughed when he read the paperwork, "part placement" as someone's handwritten "o" ran right into the "r" so at first glance it looks like I'm having auto body work done. This, of course, led to mastectomy reconstruction jokes which then led to rolling of eyes and more giggles. 

This is what I've been most nervous about in a week that has hosted a lymph node biopsy and two days' of chemo treatments because the first session is so long they needed to break it up. Those medical adventure firsts were in addition to the Real Life stuff we were doing: two field trips done, one more today, a 15th birthday celebration, karate, school, you get the idea. Tonight is more karate and tomorrow is black belt graduation.

In hindsight, it may not have been the best night to add chicken to the crock pot overnight. I've been smelling those lovely wafts upstairs all night and I'm not allowed to eat, drink, chew gum, nothing until after surgery, starting at midnight last night. I'm pretending to be a Gremlin, but as I'm truly a Hobbit who will be missing breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, and perhaps afternoon tea, I'm certainly not going to be still pretending by the time the food gets to me! I am going to be one bona fide Gremlin. My stomach is already protesting. Might be a long day. I report to the hospital at 11:15 and the surgery begins at 12:45. I do already have my iv needle from the chemo still in my arm, so perhaps that will expedite the process. Or not. We shall see. If not, I might take a bite out of the bed in recovery.

I'd mentioned on Facebook about this being a Goliath of a week with many medical firsts for me amidst the Real Life stuff that needed done. Our good and wise friend Dave commented that we always look at ourselves as David in that fight, facing down the big and scary giant. He said the reality for Christians is that we are actually the Israelites and that our God is David. He is the one in front of us, always, armed and more than prepared to take on anything that comes at us. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to pivot my mindset to the fact that I'm not the one facing any of this by myself. So thank you, Dave, for passing along the words of wisdom. Especially before a day when I'm going in completely vulnerable. The surgery prep means no makeup (so no brave game face), no deodorant (so no hiding nervous sweat which is always worse than we-were-having-fun-sweat), no jewelry, no hair product, no food, no water, no nothin'! Eeeeeeek!

Long story short, please pray it all goes quickly (I'm sure the part where I'm under general anesthesia will be a blink) with no problems and that I have no reactions to anything and that I can eat! Lots!

Interesting tidbit I learned yesterday: breast cancer patients are the only ones inclined to gain weight as everyone, especially other women, want to feed you because that's one of the ways we love on people. I'd first been told to eat whatever looked and smelled good as apparently chemo can mess with tastes and smells. I was specifically told that if only a milkshake sounded right, then better to have the milkshake than nothing. Yesterday I was told that whatever my weight was going in to chemo is what it should be when I'm done. I admit I pouted a bit.

To back track a tiny bit, yesterday my Rita took me to chemo and to get my hair did, haha. My stylist washed it up which is always a highlight, chopped off many inches to donate, and then snipped the rest into a snazzy new 'do which Carrie declared looked just like hers when I got home. It looks very similar to how it was when Carrie was a tiny small soul. I love it and am a little sad that I'll only have it for 2 or 3 weeks, but it's always something to aim for once it grows back. 

I also got something similar to a glade plug in which infuses me with white blood cell booster magic. Later today it will give me a bee sting like injection that will prompt my bone marrow to kick up white blood cell production. Then I can "unplug" it and turn it in at my next appointment as it counts as "sharps" and I shouldn't just pitch it. 

Then I'll have both items out of my left arm and can sleep on that side again, too- wheeeeee!

I'll keep you posted. Dada might keep you abreast of the situtation. ;)

Here we sit like birds in the wilderness...

Not that bird. Poor Cheeky Beaky.

Not that bird either. This little one sternly supervised use while we put the garden in on Saturday.

I think I've mentioned the camp song we'd sing while waiting. You're always waiting in life for something. "Here we sit like birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness. Here we sit like birds in the wilderness waiting for the (Wren Boys/ Robin Girls/ Whomever)" 

I'm at chemo, so here I sit.

"When life hands you lemons, make lemonade."

Similarly, when life hands you breast cancer and an IV pole and a squashy, reclinable armchair for hours of medication dripping into your bod and making you need to pee, blog. 

We met with my oncologist to go over the MRI and the lymph node biopsy results I've had since we last met. We finally heard the words that everyone wonders about: stage 2 since the cancer invaded a lymph node. Wonderful news is that I am BRCA 1&2 negative, so big thanks and praise to God for that. One less thing to have to deal with. This road will be bumpy enough, thanks!

After some more discussion, and on the third needle attempt, we started with an hour of Perjeta and then flushed for an hour with saline. Now I'm hooked up to my hour and a half (for the first time- it won't always be this much, so it won't always take this long) of Herceptin.

Because my appointment was at 10 and these meds take this long without the actual chemo meds in addition, I'll do the three hours of those, including the pre-chemo meds (think steroid, white blood cell booster, Benadryl), tomorrow.  They're even going to leave my IV in so that they don't have to re-stick me tomorrow. I've been instructed to keep it dry if I shower but was also informed that I am allowed to come in stinky. Hehe! These ladies are the best!

I've never been the best at waiting (see just about every previous post) and this is no exception. Other tests were discussed that I am to have and I want to know the when, the where, the what's-it-going-to-entail, the am-I-getting-poked-again, the how-long-will-that-take, and the when-will-we-know-results? I keep telling God I don't want another lesson in patience, that I didn't pray for patience, that whoever is praying for me for patience is going to get beaten with my Dammit Doll. Google that. It will make you laugh. And whoever sent mine to me, thank you, there was no note with it so I can't hug you! That makes me sad because I appreciate your sense of humor. Thanks for making the time.

For those readers who are not on Facebook, I'll ask here: please pray against diarrhea as it is one of the major side effects of Perjeta. As our family has colon cancer red flags also, I was against using this in case the constant irritation could trigger or mask colon cancer symptoms, and really, who wants diarrhea ever? Ain't got no time for that! You are allowed to laugh as you pray it, but please do pray it. I've got a summer to live and I intend to live it.

I asked about the sun exposure as my chemo meds specifically listed "avoid sun exposure, wear 15+ sunscreen, blah blah blah" and Dada said about me, "she won't listen!" My joy was great when my doctor looked at me and then looked at him and my nurse bestie Linda laughed that Dada would be probably at more risk than I would be! YAY! She also said, "wear a hat." Got it. I usually soak a bandanna in the pool and tie it over my hair anyway or slap on my big floppy hat, so I can only imagine how much nicer that will feel when I have no hair to hog all the cool water! Big yay God for not making me stay out of the sun after a midwestern winter and before another one. BIG YAY. 

Bigger than this YAY! That's as large as this blog font will go. Pathetic.

Hoo boy, I am really bad at waiting. Another 70 minutes to go. I can see why napping here would be a good way to kill some time. Thanks to my beautiful karate mom Girlfriends, I have the most amazing blanket to snuggle and stay warm with. Unbelievably sweet and thoughtful. I am so blessed. I will have to get pictures. I brought it today but am warmish so  am not using it right now. A picture of it shoved in a bag will not do it justice, so I will wait. Remind me.

My sweet friend Kathy brought me lovely flowers which tipped over in her car en route. My thoughtful friend Julie mailed me a cozy T-shirt, some lotion and lip balm, and a fun little purse. The nurses here at the cancer care spot gave me a new snazzy bag from Thirty-One stocked with a throw, some hand sanitizer, tissues, lip balm, a notepad, some other cute cheerful gifts, and a card from the patient who inspired the care items. My point is not to brag about my Stuff, but to show that I am being well taken care of and am loved! I'm getting cards, prayers, and texts like crazy and am seriously blessed. So thank you for being part of the tribe who is lifting me up. Thank you for the Facebook encouragement, for the messages, for the stories, for all the love you send! It is overwhelming and sweet and amazing and humbling. Thank you! Please keep praying!

Mayday on May Day

A certain 7 year old was exploring past the boundaries of our property. I caught his attention and ordered him back to our side of things, posthaste. My first mistake was turning away while he was still descending the far creek bank and heading back into the house, assuming he'd follow.

Once again, to my wondering eyes should appear a normal looking boy, but no, I am met with a mud covered, wet, mostly triumphant human being who apparently had to hit every single water molecule on his way back across. 

After being ordered to strip to skivvies outside and then come in as I was starting his bath water, the kid magics himself into thin air. There's the pile of his clothes and boots, but no kid. And no skivvies, thank heaven, so we can assume for the moment that he's still in them.

I track him down again to be informed, "Liam dared me 50 dollars to go back in in just my skivvies." 

Are you even kidding me? First of all, your brother does not have anywhere near 50 dollars. He has about 53 cents. And secondly, seriously!? In your skivvies? And yet, why am I surprised? 

The Shenanigans continue as he loudly informs me, "I have a snail on my finger and I can't get it off!" Turns out that, yes, there are leeches in the ditch/creek and he found one or was found by one... either way, he got it off himself as I'm on the cell phone on the front porch to Dada, doubled over and crying with laughter because we had just talked about how surprised we were that none of the kids had found leeches yet. Leave it to the Damonater...

Stupid old boobs

April continues to not disappoint with her unpredictability in both weather and life events. Supposedly this week it will reach 80, though the nights slither down to 35 and 40. So far this month I've lost my last grandparent, our youngest has finished testing for and earned his black belt in karate, and I've been freshly diagnosed with breast cancer.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner. That's right, I'm now one of those one-in-eight women who will receive a diagnosis of breast cancer in their lifetimes. And what a wild and crazy ride that begins!

Once upon a time, a gal went in for what she figured would be a routine mammogram as she was officially of age to get things like that checked out. She received the letter in the mail informing her that she had dense breast tissue like a lot of other women, and it would require further tests because the density makes it harder to see trouble spots. A spot compression was ordered, which meant that another mammogram was performed with an additional section clamped onto the machine to focus on a specific area. Once that all was finished, an ultrasound was ordered. Based on the results from all of the tests, and the fact that I'd been feeling what turned out to be an enlarged lymph node in addition to an actual lump that the doctor found while doing a breast exam, an ultrasound guided biopsy was recommended. The surgeon told us, "I've been doing this long enough that if the results come back saying it's nothing, I wouldn't believe it." 

 Well, biopsy means needles. I am much tougher when I am pregnant than when I am not. As I am not, I passed out during the beginning of the biopsy to awaken and find a masked man (the surgeon) "yoohoo"ing me, which sent my brain straight to "Frozen" where a wet and chilled Anna crunches into the Swedish vendor's hut as he waves cheerily and calls, "hoo hoo!" It's a bit odd to me how it can take forever to fall asleep and dream but I can get there in a matter of seconds when fainting. 

So we pick up the chitchat where we left off, finish the biopsy, and they send me back to get another mammogram to make sure that the titanium chip they'd inserted as a "we were here" marker made it into the correct spot. They do this because, interestingly enough, scar tissue from surgeries (which a biopsy is considered) can look the same as cancer on future screenings; hence the marker which means the scar tissue was deliberate. 

Things got a little sparkly here too. I sat down after the first set of images was achieved and thought I was ready for the second one, but as I woke up on the floor, I guess I wasn't quite 100% yet. My new BFF in the women's center told me, "you did great. You held your breath, I got the picture, I told you to breathe, your knees went, and I caught you before you hit the floor." Isn't she super? 

The surgeon came in to check on me, pronounced that it was probably anxiety over the procedure (y'think?) combined with dehydration as they tell you not to eat or drink anything including water for the 4 hours beforehand. I was nervous (see needle notes above) and thirsty as I usually drink plenty all morning long. My sweet new nurse friends gave me cranberry juice and graham crackers like I was a little kid and when I was ready, I was wheeled out to the car and sent on my way. 

We headed back in the next week to go over the results with the surgeon we'd already met with. He told us that based on the results he had, I have ductile (starting in a duct) carcinoma (big scary cancer word) invasive (has already spread out from where it began), that I could have already had it for 5-8 years (!!!), that because of my age they will probably treat it aggressively which most likely will mean a port for chemo before they do any potential surgery/radiation.  We asked as many questions as we could think of and made the poor surgeon wince a little as he said, "again, you're at the outer edge of my expertise, but that's a great oncology question."

I perhaps mistakenly understood that we would not meet with an oncologist until after they had the MRI results in hand. An MRI couldn't happen until 7-14 days after the start of a menstrual cycle began. I was beginning to freak out a bit thinking that this process was taking longer and longer and we would be looking at the second week of May or later. I felt like I would never get answers to my questions unless I googled them and would end up scaring myself out of my mind.

Then God tapped me on the shoulder. "Remember my faithfulness." The phone rang on Friday morning. It was the oncology office and they wanted to set up an appointment. Was I free on Monday? (But Monday will come before the MRI!) Yes, I was free Monday! Then I was to bring the usual driver's license and insurance card and any questions I might have to meet the doctor on Monday. We'd start discussing treatment options even though we were waiting for tests. We would start blood work and no, fasting will not be necessary so go about your normal Monday morning and we'll see you then. 

Are you kidding me?! Wahoo! God, you're amazing! I don't have to fast?! I can drink all morning long to have nice juicy veins to tap! I can write down all my questions that I can't wait to have answers for: what should I be eating? What should I stop eating? Do I have to quit sugar? What should my exercise program be like? How wiped out am I going to be? How often will chemo happen and for how long and how long will the breaks be between them? Can I buy my summer pool pass? Will I be allowed to get in the pool with a port or am I benched? How much hurking will be involved and what can I safely take to avoid as much of that as possible? I don't have to wait until after the MRI to ask questions! Yippieeeee!

Granted, we won't know what stage I'm in until after the MRI because that is apparently the test to determine size and whether any cancer has spread to the lymph nodes. They're also still waiting on the part of the biopsy which gets sent away to determine whether or not I am Her-2 positive. If I am, from my understanding, that gives them an additional avenue with which to treat me. I am estrogen and progesterone positive, so those are other pathways to treatment. I am walking that fine line between spouting what I've heard thus far and not knowing what anything means, so my apologies to those of you who know more about this than I do and to those of you who think this is all TMI. 

We've been already just about bowled over by the waterfall of love, prayers, offers of help, encouragement, and devotion shown by friends and family. Say what you will about social media, but it is a good tool with which to keep multitudes of people informed.  

Stupid old boobs. I never wanted them in the first place! ;)

It is almost Monday afternoon! We will keep you posted. Thanks in advance for the prayers and love. Our support system is immense and not afraid of hard work. Like I told our camp friends already, I can envision some poor, pathetic demon who'd been assigned to attack me sniveling to Satan, "it's too haaaaard, she's covered too well, you won't believe who has been praying for her, I can't do this!" Satan will sigh, send him back to work, and they will both be miserable. God is so much bigger than this and I have absolutely no doubt that what looks like a huge, snarly, knotted mess to me is something fantastic and interconnected and breathtaking on the top of the tapestry; I am merely on the mortal underside. 

So expect updates here and on Facebook because this is going to be one long road of good, bad, and ugly. I'm sure it will  get worse before it gets better. After all, I'm already pretty good at living with cancer. The new temporary normal will be learning to live with cancer treatment, which is a whole different game show, complete with some zany host. If I had my choice, I'd request the cast of "Whose Line Is It" because man, anyone who can make up a song about plumbing using words given on the spot by the audience AND make it sound good is my kind of tribe. 

If you'll excuse me, I have to go pee again, but I will be working the Southwest corner of Hot Mess for the foreseeable future, so you'll know where to find me. Make today a fabulous day!

He did it!

The Damonater is now a black belt in karate. Yay! The last test, this "fun" one involving sparring and grappling, happened yesterday and the entire class passed. They worked their behinds off:

Damon's second grade teacher popped in for awhile and commented, "I think I've lost weight just while I've been sitting here..." and "they're making me tired just watching them!" His face lit up when he saw her. Our buddy Myron also made an appearance for "mortal support" (yes, I know it's "moral", but if you haven't seen "The Gods Must Be Crazy" then you should and you'll catch the reference).

Of course we celebrated with ice cream afterwards, because that's how we roll. Graduation will be Saturday, May 12 at noon if anyone wants to come see him actually get his belt, the ceremony, the fun after all the hard work, and so on. 

Woohoo, three cheers, hip hip hooray, and way to go!

Black belt test, part 2

April also hosts two of the three black belt tests. All candidates passed both tests so far. The final challenge is this Saturday, where they face grappling and sparring and "sharks", which are some of the krav maga and black belt students from previous testing cycles.

These pictures were of the self defense test. They were to be working on their punches and kicks until they were "attacked" and then had to defend themselves. I took many more pictures, but figured these ones gave enough of an idea. 

Our Adorable Richardses are testing for their second degree black belts as Damon tests for his first. I love that that girl just dives right in!

If you're in the area on Saturday, pop on in and cheer everybody on! Graduation is May 12 at noon.

Something for everyone

It has been some month. April is known for throwing curveballs and I'm not just talking about the ridiculous weather. This April, my 90 year old Nana passed away. That means family gathered together, road tripping from all over North Carolina, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and who knows where else. Fortunately, it was a beautiful, warm, and dry weekend so there were fewer traveling hassles than there could have been. Though we've been married for 19 years, there were still family members Dada had never met. Some of these were my cousin Ruthie, her husband, and sons. Our boys all hit it off and were quite the sight:  

After a concise service including music that Nana had preselected which had been written by a relative, there was a little bit of time to spend before the lunch would be served. Cousins being cousins and it being way too long between times spent together, some Shenanigans ensued, which may or may not have involved our kids and my cousin's kids, Cora and Blake. 

I remember thinking that it was the perfect kind of spring day: some clouds in a blue sky, a slight breeze, warm sun on our shoulders. I think Nana would have enjoyed all of it except maybe our "monkeying around" at the cemetery. I know there are other pictures on Dada's phone so I will have to see what I can track down to share. 

It's bittersweet that she is gone. I don't think she ever had any desire to be the world's oldest living person, so to make it to 90 is quite an achievement. I'm so glad that we saw her last summer while we vacationed with her in good health; that those memories of sunshine and her interacting with us and the dogs and her nurses are the ones closest to our hearts instead of the ones where she sat wretchedly on the alarm pad of her bed in the nursing home while taking multiple medications. I'm glad she got time with all of our kids and that they'll remember her. 

I'm glad we have fun family that takes advantage of opportunities to get together and make more memories. I'm sorry that we won't get to see Nana at the beach this summer. It will be odd to not have her coming out of her room with her walker to ask us if we've eaten yet or what we're up to that day. I'm glad that she didn't linger a long time through her pneumonia, being miserable. I'm glad that we got to celebrate her life. I know it will be a process, and the kids have already mentioned missing her, and that's how it should be as she held a special place in our hearts and lives. 

Nana Carrie, 1927-2018, we love you.

Hotel pool time

Anytime there is a hotel involved, there had better be a pool. These fish kids could not wait to get in the water and release some energy. The first time we used it, we had the whole place to ourselves. Liam beelined for the hot tub while Carrie and Damon made visits back and forth between it and the pool. The second time we went there were at least two other families, so Damon got adopted into some games with those kids. Liam discovered a three-hole putt putt course just outside the pool area, so he befriended a boy about his size and did rounds. I mentioned to Dada, "that boy looks just like Blake did when he was that size." When Carrie got out of the pool to dry off, she spotted Liam and his friend and commented, "he looks just like Blake!" When Liam came in to help us check out of the room, we asked what the boy's name was. Liam said, "I dunno, but I thought he sure looked like Blake!" Must have been a dead ringer for everyone to notice.

Care Bear and the art show

Heavens, these are from the second of April during the art show at the high school. Care Bear had a few submissions and we got to see some of her friends' works as well. The displays were very well arranged and we had rather a challenging time keeping some younger brothers from investigating too closely.

Carrie's piece is the container morphing into the squid.

The giraffes below are not hers, but are for Muggin. The boys were quick to find them and insist on pictures for her.

There are some very talented kiddos putting forth some great stuff! I liked how there was so much variety to inspect from the jewelry to the pencil drawings to paintings and sculpture. I wish they could do expos once a month; I never get tired of kid art!

That girl.

Some mornings are harder than others, especially the first day back to school after spring break. Even more so when it's the first school day after springing the clocks forward for Daylight Savings Nonsense. 

Liam had to sprint to the bus, not that he got up late; he just needed to spend an entire half hour of the hour he has from alarm to bus to kvetch about the fact that it was A) morning, B) not a two hour delay (after a week off), C) dark, D) cold, E) all of the above and then some.

Carrie was already standing out there with Bosley on his leash, in the dark, and the bus rolls up. I was behind Liam to ensure he made it out of the house, so Carrie began to run away from the ever closer bus towards me while I'm calling cheerily to Bos. She drops the leash, dashes up the bus steps, Liam on her heels. Unbeknownst to her, I did indeed corral the squirrely, joyful, leaping Bos before Carrie was the whole way seated, but as the bus was already in motion again and we were in the dark, she couldn't tell. So I receive the above text from her friend Isaac's device.

Notice she can now "sleep easy" in math, not just "sleep"! Does anyone want a teenager?!

A Normal Person post

I'm channeling my mother today. I'm at our local Panera, watching the guy across the street at Ace Hardware wiping down his windows, Panera customers coming in and out, an occasional (crazy- my car said it's 24 degrees out) jogger, just eating my fresh orange scone and having hot (amazing) coffee. My mother calls this Something Normal People Do. 

Yes, I have coffee at home, and I am capable of making scones, though mine would be chocolate themed as I have lemons but no oranges or blueberries at home. However, I had have a million errands to run since I've been home with a sick-ish kid for the past two days. I've already dropped off a scrip but need to claim two prescriptions at pick up, hit Walmart and perhaps Aldi, and even though I went back into the house twice before I left for good, I still don't have the mail I intended to send from town. Grrrr. 

But there is laundry which has made its way into the dryer already, all the kids made it onto the bus at their appointed times, the dog has been fed and run and played with, Liam's six month med check has been scheduled, and I am actually wearing makeup and earrings. I call it a win. 

Hence the coffee and scone out while I blog because our home wifi "is being a big poopyhead" to quote our longtime friend Todd. I have next to no technical knowhow so it's beyond me as to how to fix it. The guy standing next to my tech guy in my brain muttered, "Panera has wifi" and the tech guy perked up to add, "and coffee!" Someone smarter than both of them slyly added, "and yummy baked goods, and never mind that you already ate three cookies after breakfast. Get one anyway. How often to you go into Panera?" Sneaky little devil. So here I am. I just made a tactical error. I closed my eyes to absorb some of the steam from my coffee (who knew coffee could steam? Doesn't everyone heat theirs 4 times in the microwave and still forget to finish it?) and realized, I could nap here... 

What a difference 24 hours makes

Yes, that would be Damon in the kennel with Bosley. Some of you are having flashbacks to when Carrie and Liam would do that with Triskal (Carrie did it once with scissors) but Bos has a significantly smaller crate. 

Twenty-four hours later, after hearing a dreaded sound that no parent wants to hear, especially early in the morning, led to a much different picture:

Poor kiddo. Who knows which particular germ he picked up, but we're thankful it was short-lived. After his initial bout of hurkage, he had no reoccurrences and only a slight fever. The next day he still didn't look himself upon waking, so he stayed home again to make sure he'd licked it. Halfway through the afternoon I realized he was completely his 100% ornery self again. His bum went on the bus this morning posthaste. He's probably glad to be back among friends instead of with his boring old mum anyway.

God bless teachers, every one. 

Black belt test, part 1

This is the kid who passed his first of three tests to become a black belt in karate. He showed off his basic skills set and performed four katas over three and a half hours. He performed Six Qualities of a Champion, Universal 3, Advanced Kicking Kata, kicking kata and single stick form. Some of you are scratching your heads because I said four katas and that's five items; the point system is where some of them count as a whole point and some are only half a point. In his case, kicking kata and single stick form are each half of a point so together they made up his fourth kata. You'd think I'd know all this stuff by now, seeing as his siblings are already certified, but I have to write it all down as I go...

Anyway, after some tweaking and repeating certain aspects throughout the test, his whole class passed the first test. Way to go, guys! It was a long afternoon and they worked really hard. It felt fantastic to cheer and clap for them at the end. 

Next up will be the self-defense test and two weeks after that is the sparring and grappling element. That's the really fun one to watch as the instructors and some of the krav maga crew get to hop in to be "sharks" and the kids get to show what they know against adults whom they're not necessarily accustomed to dealing with. Not sure who gets more of a kick out of it- the kiddos or the sharks! That will be late April, so let me know if you'd like to stop by to see some of it. Nina and Jonathan are testing for their second degree black belt, so their test includes two attackers and really is something to see. They've already been practicing on Saturday mornings and the sessions I saw both went very well. 

Carrie is mulling over the idea of working as a student instructor. She is aware that several of the current ones will be heading out to college this summer and there will be vacancies. Since she will be 15 (!) in May, it warrants looking into, especially as we are there all the time anyway. 

And so our life continues to be school, homework, church, and karate, karate, karate...

Graduation will be May 12 at noon at the usual venue. If you'd like to come, know that it's free, wear black to cheer Damon on, and be sure to buy some popcorn!

Seuss Day 2018

Today is Dr. Seuss day at school, and thanks to Grandmama, this kid has something perfect to wear. (Pay no attention to the photobombing Bosley.) What a perfect event for a Friday. I bet there are all kinds of giggles at school today.

The second graders have been learning about money, the coin denominations, how to add and subtract it, that sort of thing. Last night as I tucked that tuckered out kid into bed, I told him to uncover his head so he could breathe. He pipes up from where he was burrowed, "y'know how coins have heads? I'm a Damon cent!"

This morning, while attempting to snuggle the little stinkwad, he informed me, "I already said 'I love you.' Now please shoo." 

He's Thing 3, all right... and a happy heavenly birthday to my Gramps, whom I'm convinced is the guardian angel for this crew...

In Mawch...

See those two frizzering kids on the extreme left? They actually have daylight at the bus stop now!

I liked how the trees looked outlined on one side. 

The wind is still blowing pretty good and Damon found a spot of black ice on the driveway en route to the bus stop. It kinda went like this: 

Normally we wait until we can see the bus head down the street for our intersection. That way we are out of the elements. Today, however, perhaps because it was sunny, Damon insists on waiting outside. Damon, Bosley and I all headed out of the garage. Damon lags behind, grinning wickedly as he begins to argue that we should wait in the garage. I stare at him, then turn my back and continue out. He eventually catches up, after commenting on the trees, the snow, the ice, every little thing, and then scurries to where I am where he proceeds to wipe right out and lands on his bum. He looks up at me with a twinkle in his eye and announces delightedly, "black ice!"

Whose kid IS this!? He then proceeds to dance his way down the rest of the driveway, shuffling, sliding, doing his very best with every move to make me crazier. I'm happy to report that he didn't wipe out again as he crossed the street, which has happened before, or at the turn where he boards the steps of the bus, which has also happened previously. 

Bos and I made it back down the driveway in our respective pieces, and he couldn't wait to go play out back. Enjoy the sunshine and happy weekend, everyone!