A Line That I Can Stand On

Fear Not A Personal Formation

2009-02-01T18:05:00.000-08:00

Currently, I am in training to become a catechist, a Maria Montessori based religious leader that follows the principles and training guidelines of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd organization. It may sound like a mouthful to one that is uninformed of this method, so for more info go to www.cgsusa.org In order to become a catechist for children of the ages of 3-6, I have to complete 5 full weekend training sessions spread out over a year. Today I completed my 3rd weekend of training.
Friday was the beginnning of this weekend's training. In all honesty to myself and to those who may read, I was not feeling the excited desire to do the training at this moment in time. I have been pooped. The last 2weeks have been very busy and I have had only 2 nights at home in the past 14 to simply be. I like moments of being where there are no plans but to sit in the middle of the playroom and let my children literally walk on me. We only have those years for so long as it is, and I simply felt too busy of late. However, as I am trying to teach my 5 year old son, we don't go thru life only doing things we "want" to do. I committed to catechesis for others, myself, and God and I would be there. It was my responsibility for this time frame.
Well, God sure does have a sense of humor when it came to the complacency of my heart. A few weeks ago I knew my husband would be going out of town on saturday morning of the training. This departure burdened me for this particular time because I wanted to be able to leave my children with my better half so I could restfully soak up lessons in the atrium. This bit of peace was removed with his departure because I had to manage childcare and manage my own mental pre-occupaton of my children in childcare.
Besides his departure, I also blew my back out on Friday morning. So now, did I not only have to sit it utter pain with every move of my body, but I had to sit on a hard rug and hard chair for the entire training and be the sole parent at home to pick up and hold the parasite I call my daughter.
Ironically so, I was attempting to be at peace with myself and with my children during all of this time because I was trying to implement the peaceful and restful environment and countenance that allows children to thrive so well within the atrium. Yet now I had to try even harder because I was in physical pain, was alone, and was mentally distracted by my various parenting obligations.
On Saturday evening, I came home feeling emotionally and spiritually drained. I probably resembled a zombie, but somewhere in the midst of this minor exhaustion, God reminded me again to try to be loving, peaceful, and not-irritable in my home. The children got to bed smoothly and I then praised God for my cocktail while heating my back. I went to bed that night contemplating the parable of the sower and searching my heart and mind for that atrium like peace.
When I awoke on Sunday to use the restroom before returning to bed, I reminded myself to try again to prepare my environment and my heart to encounter my children in peace. This is when God sat back and laughed and said, well let's try this one then. It was about that time when my 5 year old boy enters my bedroom and the first thing he says is "I'm sorry". Oh great. What has happened? He then goes on to explain that he pooped in his pants and tried to clean it up himself by putting the poop in the trashcan and then wiping himself with toilet paper which he then puts in the trash can. He then self-discloses that he could not get all the poop off his legs and that he did not get the poop in the trash can. If he is admitting this, I know it must be bad. I get out of bed. Throw on clothes and enter the haz mat zone. Not only did he clearly miss the trash can, but this day happens to include the biggest poop I have ever seen come out of his little body. All the while M is screaming for me to get her out of her bed. I then ask H if he has washed his hands as I am looking at an entire roll of marked paper in the trash. Of course not. I think "oops I forgot" were his words.
After I bathe H, calm my gag reflex, and get M out of her crib, we carry on with our usual breakfast routine. As I am cleaning up breakfast, I again remind myself of the environment I am trying to create and the countenance I want to convey to my children of love and peace, that catechesis teaches so beautifully. It could not have been more than 60 seconds from that thought when I hear my visiting mother say, "oh it looks like we have some crumbs on the floor we need to clean up." At this point I just should have laughed hysterically at God's sense of humor: my son had dumped onto the floor all the ground egg shells from my montessori based lesson of mortar and pestle. This is one of M's toys not H's and he has never even touched these items since we have owned them. Maybe H and I had a special Montessori brain connection at the moment of my prayer and his moment to decide to choose that work, but I think there is more to this than that.
I later reflected on my weekend and realized that amidst the conundrum and complacent feelings, God is still at work with me. He can work amidst all my distractions to move in me and to love me, and He can lead me to the still water of writing this blog and understanding Him even though I hardly felt like I had the time to breathe. This recognition can then permeate into my work within the atrium. I do not have to "feel" on or good or joyful or even focused for God to use me and others in the atrium. We are all broken vessels that thru our brokenness God reveals his completeness and true light and life. We can then simply step back and say thank you Lord for meeting me here. Thank you that I do not have to fear. Amen.

Nothing good happens after midnight

2008-10-14T07:13:00.000-07:00

The phrase "nothing good happens after midnight" took all new meaning for me when I had my first child. I heard this phrase in college and I think we can all understand why, but as a parent the view of it shifts. When H and M were newborns and needed to be fed or changed in the night it felt at that moment that the world was going to end. Some mothers and daddies find the middle of the night feeding sweet and bonding. I was not one of them. I felt I could bond just as well and sweetly in the middle of the day. Even after the nightly feedings have ended this phrase now takes on a different meaning.
All parents hope that their children will be bright. As comedian Brian Regan expressed, when was the last time you heard a campaign that opposed children learning to read. Anyway, I digress. I do want my children to be bright, but as I said prior, nothing good happens after midnight even if it involves the brightness of your child.
We have undertaken the journey to get H out of pull-ups at night. This is mostly because he has developed a laziness toward using the potty when he is fully awake, yet has his pull-up on. I believe he is too old and competent for this. I may eat my words after this 2 week trial is over. Last night was our first night of night time potty training. He did not drink much after 6. He went to the restroom at 7 and at 10:30 and all was swell until I hear M doing her deathly scream at 1:15 AM. She has not felt well so comforting her was not such a big deal to me as I walked to see her. However, such comfort turned to anger when I go back to the kids adjacent rooms and see lights on as if it is Chevy Chase's Christmas vacation home. The bathroom lights were on with door open. H's door was open with all 3 lamps on and H was nowhere to be found. I looked in the bathroom and in his bed. Nothing. I came back to my room thinking we missed each other in our walks. nothing. I return to his room to find him hidden behind his armoire working on a 60 piece USA puzzle. I peak around the corner at him and he immediately says, "I have got to finish putting these pieces in." My first response is total silence and to get daddy, for in the meantime M is still screaming her lungs out for Chevy Chase has disrupted her beauty sleep.
J with tough love coerces H back to his bed and we hear nothing of him until 6am. At that moment he immediately finished the puzzle and prepared for his busy day where he will throw a tired induced fit at me come 1pm. I will then try to explain to him that puzzles are great things to work on, but nothing is worth working on after midnight.

Ignorance is Bliss

2008-06-23T12:33:00.000-07:00

There is new meaning to "ignorance is bliss": if my son were ignorant, I would be able to fulfill vain fantasies of drinking a daiquiri by the poolside while reading a fictional novel. Instead, I answer at least 200 hundred questions a day that start with "why" and "I wonder" following his favorite word, "mommy". These questions can be as silly as "why is your cup blue?" As embarrassing as stating in front of the toothless cashier at the drugstore, "mommy, I wonder why he has no teeth?" Again as embarrassing as saying in front of co-eds at the beach, "mommy, why did those girls buy shirts that are too small for them?". Then I have the memorable questions too that make my impatience with the questioning phase worthwhile: this question requires some scenery. Sunday morning at the beach, H started to throw up and dry heave. As he was hugging the toilet and I was holding him, he said, "mommy, is God still in my heart?". I said, of course he is. He then said "doesn't the throw up go past your heart?" I then gave him a talk on esophagal anatomy and he felt better. They say Einstein asked a lot of questions, but on this end I wonder what his mother was like.

Play Dates

2008-04-29T12:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I went to my first organized playdate ever with M this morning. I left confused as to the function and benefits of it. It seemed M liked it. After she ate a snack she ran around, climbed up slides, and ate dirt. I know the organization of the meeting was not necessary for her, even though unbeknownst to her I wish she would jump out of her appropriate developmental stage and become best friends with one girl there. Instead she just sneezes on her. Anyway, I digress. M could play with a rock right now or just a slide. Other children at a park and not in a more structured school setting are the same to her as sticks and stones. She learns nothing different or better from them than an ant on the grass. The group is for me. I need personal contact and social interaction with other mothers. Or maybe I do not. We are all created to need people, but in this day and age I am not sure it has to be other mothers....

This group has a very good intention. It was my first meeting so maybe I am being too harsh, but I find this to be true at any meeting organized around children. We only speak of our children, we rarely listen to others, and we don't tell the honest to goodness truth: that we mostly feel like we are hardly surviving in this thing we call motherhood. Most honest mothers that I speak with are full of doubt, worry, guilt, and self-consciousness. Yet, when we arrive at a group setting that has an open forum for discussion about our needs, we shut down like a clam.
Why are mothers not able to unite and confess weaknesses amongst each other when we know most of us go home and wonder if we are or will do the "right" thing? My theory is that we are at our primary emotional state simply fearful. Fearful of being wrong. Fearful of being imperfect. Fearful of being looked down upon. At that base of fear each mother must ask what am I afraid of, what fear drives me, and what am I trying to prove? The fear in some sense has become an idol or created an idol in our hearts. With such fear we shut down and don't become our open real selves with others. Mothers need that honesty just as much as I do.

I believe my fear derives from a sinful need to be right. This rightness could be interchanged with perfection. My sinful need to be perfect. The reasons I think I have a desire to be right goes too far into my psychoanalysis for this blog. But if there is anything I could say to myself and to other moms out there it would be to just try to chill, go with the flow, enjoy your children, and admit your mistakes and struggles. I need to hear them to help me with my struggles. Hearing struggles and mistakes also brings people together. It lets me know I have someone in the same boat, and therefore, it unifies us. Mothers need uniting not separation.

If anyone reads this and is interested in literature on the mommy culture of this day and age, I have some great recommendations: Myth of the Perfect Mother, Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety, How Children Raise Parents, and Blessings of a Skinned Knee.
Since H was born I have wanted to start my own play group from 3-5 pm or 4-6 pm. The witching hours are a hard time of the day for me and I just seem to look at the clock waiting for J to come home. But the meeting would have certain rules. Talking about children and parenting is off limits for the first 4 meetings until we get to know each other as women. Brutal honesty is required. Then talking of parenting is still limited because I want to talk about pop culture, news, religion, and politics. Interaction with our children is also limited to preventing physical harm or injury. I feel I get enough talk of parenting with random people to supply that need but the need for intellectual stimulation is not being met and I wish it could be met with women who are in the same realm of life as me. And the last rules would be to listen to others and leave judgments at the door. If I have any takers, you know where to find me. At 5pm I will be outside watching M pick roses and H pick his nose.

Back to Normal

2008-04-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

Well, whatever normal may mean to my family is what we are all back to around here. My normal is not your normal and it never will be. In fact, I do not like that word at all because it conveys that there is a certain way we are all supposed to be, and that is just too much pressure. So maybe it is better to say my family is back to its regular routine. Because I am not so sure it is normal that we are having to discipline H for peeing in his drinking cup in his bathroom.

M seems back to her usual self. She was quite confused for a while once I returned. Oh, and was she mad at momma. She wanted nothing to do with me while J was around, so I just went with the flow. I knew once he went back to work that all would change eventually so why stress about it then. In fact, J was sad I was home too because he and M had bonded so much and had only each other that it was so special for him. I am glad for those moments. Wives and moms don't seem to let go of the reigns of control enough to let men feel and see that they can manage and handle the home on their own. Therefore, men begin to feel incompetent and as if they are strangers in their own homes. Then it leads to a nasty cycle where when they do try to help they only get reprimanded, so they don't help because why help if you are only going to get in trouble. But then women may hold grudges for dads not helping and get more upset and the cycle gets worse and worse. So in essence, I was glad J was able to feel so confident about his Mr. Mom abilities. In fact, he taught me some new tricks with the kids. It is such a relief to truly feel like I have a partner in this thing called raising children where it really is the blind leading the blind.

H seems to have jumped right back into his groove. The night I got home he still wanted to leave and play with his friends and "mommy" has become his favorite word again. Maybe all 4 year olds are like this, I am not sure, but he is simply non-stop. One request after another with questions the whole way: when, what, how, why. I need patience tattooed on my eyeballs as well as a running encyclopedia.

I feel good. I feel the same as usual. I still need a catnap every afternoon when my body crashes, but so does the entire Hispanic culture. It was hard re-adjusting especially with M being so mobile and active, but I love eating all foods again and I am so happy my body scan came back with a positive result. The only "activity" was seen in my neck which is what the doctors had hoped for. I return to my doc next month to check my hormone levels and then after that I will get blood drawn in 6 months to make sure no thyroid cells remain in my body. If they do, then I am not sure what follows. For now, I am just praying they don't return.

“The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well.”

Napalm in the morning

2008-04-02T08:20:00.001-07:00

Thursday and Friday

I think I may know what napalm in the morning smells like, and, no, this has nothing to do with living with 2 boys after a Fiber One breakfast. This has to do with the smell of the radiation seeping through my skin during my first night in the hospital. After drinking 300oz of water the previous day, my body decided to emit the liquids through my skin as well as my urine. So I awoke in the middle of the night with full body sweats. The radiation was eeping through my skin and it smelled like a strange metal. I was thankful then that I was alone in my bed and room.

That next day I again woke with the mission to drink lots and lots of fluids, so I did. I became quite acquainted with my commode and the loud sound of a commercial toilet. I felt for the poor soul in the room next to me who had to hear that sound two times in a row every 30 minutes. In between potty breaks, I read, talked on the phone, watched TV, and waited on hospital food. It was sort of like I was grounded or in prison, but without bars to see out, a roommate, or recess time. So more like a glorified solitary confinement. That was the extent of what I did for 3 days.

Some Things I have Re-Realized or Learned

As you could imagine, I have had constant thoughts since I was released. I have had euphoric moments of realization or sorrowful moments of my cancerous reality. But any way I slice it, my mind is full. Part of this cerebrality is intentional. If I am going to be put through a fire, I better come out in the end having learned a few things. I also see it as a choice: I can either choose, like Christ, to be the victor or I can choose to be the victim. And with as much counseling as I have done or as I have received, the benefits of maintaining a victorous soul and outlook way outweigh the costs of being the victim.

Anyway, here are some of the things I have learned this week

1. Life is precious.
2. Parenting is a privilege not a duty.
3. An ounce of action beats a ton of words.
4. Cheesy CD infomercials can lift your spirits when all you have heard is terrible television for 3 days.
5. I have so much to be thankful for, my health included, and my citizenship in this country where I have the freedom to worship and dance and where I have great medical care.
6. I must raise my children to be activists who care about the sufferings of this world like hunger, illness, hatred and violence rather than their stock portfolios, their waistlines, and their standing at church.
7. I am thankful for my unbelievable husband. I thank the Lord for him and our marriage daily. I don't think I could have felt or thought so freely this week without resting in his love for me and our children. The joy of not having to worry about him with our tykes this week is immeasureable.
8. I am thankful for my children. I am blessed. Better me to be unhealthy than them. They are amazing children who above all I hope can know and sense the love of Christ for them through my unconditional love. He is the God of grace who I pray they come to know.
9. I am thankful for my friends and family. I hope when the rubber hits the road that I can be as loving to them as they have been to me.
10. Last but not least, my mother. We have our differences and can get on each other's nerves, but because of her: I know love. I know what it means to be a servant. And I don't ever have to wonder where I stand. She is not judgmental. She sees everyone as an equal and she has a heart of gold, but yet can still speak her mind. She does my dirty work and my family's dirty work, and even if she is not thanked, she comes back the next day to do it again with a sense of humor. By example, she has taught me to put other's before myself. I had no control over who my mother was and I thank God daily that it was her.

Ok. Ok. Enough of the cheesy stuff. I am off to my body scan. The last big hurdle and then I re-unite with my family. Toodles.

P.S. For a funnier entry read the next one.

Sand: the organic snack

2008-03-31T13:24:00.001-07:00

I’ve hacked my wife’s blog and I thought I’d put in a little word from Mr. Mom.

Highest Compliments:

Over the past few months we’ve been patiently teaching H to say “Yes Mam” and “Yes Sir” to adults. It used to annoy me slightly when he confused the two and said “Yes Mam” to me. I noticed this week that I stopped correcting this mistake as I subconsciously see this reference as a badge of honor. Someone once said that “Mother is the name for God on the hearts and lips of children.” H was simply letting me know I was aptly performing my newly assumed responsibilities.

Subtle Changes:

Kids notice these subtle changes. Last week at H’s soccer practice the coach didn’t show up. I reluctantly stepped in when I noticed all the parents standing around staring at each other. I know just a little more about soccer than the five year olds, but I quickly discovered, that was enough. I had two of the kids (Corvin & Jimmy) lined up on the sidelines doing kicking lessons next to H. After a few rounds of this, H looked a me quizzically and said, “Are you the coach dad?” “Sort of” I responded. His little bow wrinkled up and he said, “Are you still my dad?” I laughed and said, “Of course buddy, I’ll always be your dad.” H looking more confused said, “Are you Corvin’s and Jimmy’s dad too?”

Anyway, I thought I would share a few of the things I have learned this week about being a single parent. It may not seem like much, but for me, these realizations were life changing:

Notes on useful products:

Why has Fisher Price not discovered that the plastic cell phone look-a-likes adorned with Elmos and Barneys are condemned as frauds by kids after a 30 second trial, while my Blackberry can satiate my toddler for hours upon end? Just take the old used Blackberry’s and put them back into service Mr. Fisher Price toy making guy (patent idea #1).

Hair bows and barrettes are not just for show, they can also serve to keep bangs from forming a permanent adhesion with the dried snot in a toddler’s nose.

Dried snot is a much stronger, more permanent adhesive than Bond’s Gorilla Glue (patent idea #2) .

If Honda would make an Odyssey that came equipped with a fold out changing table in the front passenger seat, I would buy it tomorrow (patent idea #3).

Notes on food:

Sand is basically an organic laxative when eaten in large quantities. It also causes severe diaper rash.

Dog food is actually a pretty healthy snack for any child. If they like it and the dogs don’t seem to mind…why fight that battle?

Notes on attraction:

Any woman that can extract my child from her leech-like suction to my hip and hold her for a while without causing her to scream for me I find wildly attractive. This holds true for the 21 year old pregnant woman at the gym to the Queen Latifah double at the grocery store to the 85 year old woman at the back of the church. If I were a single man…

Any woman who allows her child to throw up on my child while attempting to give my child a toddler embrace should be thrown directly into the fiery pits of Hell for potentially contaminating my household with a virus that might send my teetering patience and limited endurance straight to the grave.

Notes from the brink:

Lastly. There is no tired like Mom-tired. My back and biceps are constantly aching from the side-cant pose required to hold onto this beautiful leech-like creature while performing other tasks. My mind is constantly racing from the stress of wondering what to do next on the schedule, what to feed these tiny beasts who seem perfectly content one minute and then ravenously hungry the next, what cleaning and chores I can accomplish during naptime, etc, etc. Sometimes I long for the next naptime and then as soon as I put H and M down for naps I have this lost feeling and wish they were awake. I end up spending the whole two hours waiting for them to wake up so I can see them, hug them, and play with them again.

Thank you Moms for having us. Thank you Moms for giving up your dreams to raise us, care for us, keep us safe, and unconditionally loving us. Thank you Moms for who you are and all the seemingly unimportant and unnoticed tasks you perform to make our lives run like a finely tuned race car.

“Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; A mother’s secret hope outlives them all.”

- J out.

A Disaster Drill

2008-03-30T11:29:00.000-07:00

I am on the other side of those dreaded 60 hours. I made it out alive, in one piece, with possible superwoman capabilities, and with extra strength and wisdom. I am still feeling like I am recovering from a slightly traumatic experience however. I have aversions to many things that I ate or experienced in my room like, television of any type, diet cokes, sweets, and certain meats. All in all I physically feel pretty good. My neck is sore and my ovaries have been sensitive because they contain fast growing tissue, which my doc says can be achey during this time. I am eager for the body scan and to get back to my typical life at home.

Wednesday

J and I got to the hospital at 9Am. I was wearing a running suit I could throw away and we were carrying 4 brown grocery bags overflowing with stuff. I truly looked like the bag lady. We sign in and then wait for my turn to sign my life away. Yes, I am an organ donor. While we are waiting, this blaring horn comes across the speakers saying, "This is an external disater drill. All staff and hospital patients must stay in their rooms." Amen, sister. I could not have said it any better for that moment in time.

I sign away and then get escorted to my room. Room 5129. In my wacko brain, I first thought that room number was great because 5 times 2 is ten and 1 plus 9 is ten. Well, that idea changed once I saw the room. It was a tiny hospital room with the added bonus of having plastic, paper, and latex gloves covering every surface. It was surreal. J and I settle me in my room and pull the blinds way up. We then sit and sit and sit for 3 hours waiting on my radiation. They also brought me an iodine laden meal with banana pudding included one hour before my radiation. So cruel.

The Nuclear medicine staff finally arrives to give me my dose. The pills arrived in a 4 foot tall 3 foot wide and 2 foot deep metal box. They then pull out a 3 inch box from that box and then pull out a 3 inch tall glass vial with 3 very potent pills in it. I was feeling pretty scared. I was advised not to use my hands on the vial so I put the vial to my mouth 3 separate times and drank the pills down. It was a very odd sensation to will myself to swallow the pills, but I knew I had come too far at that moment to freeze
up then. After the last pill was down, they immediately closed my door and went down the hall saying, "she's hot. she's hot." It was then that I was able to relate to the lepers of Bible times. They might as well have been going down the hall screaming "unclean unclean". As the door closed, it was just me, my waters, my candy, and God.

I drank like I have never drunk before. I had about 300oz of liquid and ate more candy than a 4 year old on Halloween. See, my instructions were to drink and suck hard candy to keep my salivary glands going. Well, by the time J brought me my first "normal" meal for the night, my mouth was so sore that I could not even enjoy it. By 5:30 when I was in between the news and primetime TV, I got a hint of cabin fever. I sort of started to freak in my head. No particular words were driving me to the edge. It was simply a feeling, but that was when I remembered I packed a little Maker's Mark. It was exactly what the doctor ordered and at that moment I thanked the Lord for His earthly joy and pleasures. Mark and I toasted to solitude and then I spent the evening losing brain cells and thyroid cells to the sounds of the television.

I'll continue about Thursday tomorrow. For now, this is probably all you want to read and kind of all I can emotionally process at this time. It is still so fresh, and, overall, it was a manageable experience, but one that I hope I do not have to go through again. Praise the Lord for freedom.

Ocean of emotion

2008-03-26T05:40:00.000-07:00

The days of isolation are here. As I sit and eat my last low iodine meal, my emotions are being tossed like the waves. One minute I feel super confident about this excursion and the next I am nauseated with fear. I keep saying to myself, "do not fear, for I am with you." But, one moment I will sense that provision and the next it is gone.
I will write once I am on the other side but thank you all for your support in this. Jesus spent three days in hell before he rose again, but He was alone for our sake. I am not that strong and am so thankful He is with me. I could not bear the burden He carried.
One last funny before I sign off, J just dutifully changed M's poopy diaper while I was writing this. From behind me I then hear, "I am a moron". I look back and he has changed her diaper, but he forgot to put another one. Seems we are a little distracted these days. Love to all.

New Standards

2008-03-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

As I have been thinking about the things I will or will not bring with me into my room or the things I can or cannot bring with me into my room, I have again realized what matters in life. Because of this reminder, I am again thankful for this treatment. It helps to weed out the junk in my life that does not matter. It also helps me stay the course and keep focused on the majors, not the minors. Hopefully, this list can help you to simplify your life and re-focus you, but also give you a glimpse into my life and its priorities

1. Things you need so much you will destroy them and buy them again
- A Bible
- A Toothbrush
- my own underwear and socks
- contacts to see
- pictures of my family
- a hot wheel
- a toy soldier
- crossword puzzles
2. Things you love so much you would not risk hurting them
- J
-H and M
3. Things I could leave behind forever -
a. will not need them for three days
- acne medication
- makeup
- deodorant- I know. you are thinking gross, but come on. I am alone for 3 days and Degree costs 5 bucks.
- cooking
- cleaning
- laundry
- bills
b. will use them for 3 days but could care less if I bring them out with me
- John Grisham novel
- magazines
- loneliness
- lemon drops

Game Day

2008-03-24T05:50:00.001-07:00

Let's roll. I've got my game face on. My heart and spirit are ready. But. I just put H's glasses on Neo.

107 toy soldiers

2008-03-23T17:25:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I get my first thyrogen shot at 9AM. This shot is the first in a series of 2. Supposedly, the shot can make me feel very nauseated and tired. I will let you know. It is weird and scary to think that this process is beginning in the morning. 15 months ago while 6 months pregnant with M my tumor was discovered by my OB in Santa Monica, CA. She said it was probably a muscle but it needed to be ultrasounded. 2 weeks later on October 13, 2006 it was ultrasounded. I did not hear my phone ring while shopping at Ralph's for groceries and the doc left a message saying it was thought to be 2 nodules. I broke down while pulling out of the parking lot. A biopsy was ordered for October 27th and I had a 99% chance that it was not cancer considering my age and circumstances. On Friday October 27th I went in for the biopsy. 6 needles were stuck into my neck and bandages were put on. J and I then went to see Babel in Century City, CA. This pain was worse than my thyroid removal. I could not move my neck for 2 days and all the while I felt guilty for not being able to help J with taking care of the H man. On Halloween, I was diagnosed with papillary carcinoma of the thyroid.
16 months later, I am about to continue the treatment. I have had my thyroid removed, placed on bedrest, birthed an 8lb 6 oz baby girl, nursed her for 11 months, moved 3 times including from Los Angeles to AL, raised a boy from the age of 2 and a half to 4 and 2 months, and settled into our own home. It has been a long, strange, and beautiful journey to this point. One in which I know the Lord has been with me every step of the way. I have wondered "why?", yet have never doubted God's goodness. Too much good has already come from this trial, so I will continue to trust in Him in my present fears: What will these shots do to me? What tests do I have to take before they lock me into my cell? What will the radiation feel like as it runs down my throat? Will I go crazy in solitary confinement? will M scream for 7 straight days? will J lose his patience? will I lose my sense of taste for 3 months? will I have trouble having more children after this treatment? will I later be diagnosed with thyroid cancer or some other more serious cancer? the questions go on and on. But I guess the main answer and thing I feel right now is that I could continue to ask more questions and drive myself crazy from them alone. However, this is the day that the Lord has made. Today He made a glorious, joyful day with friends and family, and I know that tomorrow, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday are also days that He has made. They may not be as joyful and pleasant and may actually include physical pain, but He has made those days for me as well. I know He is with me in my dark valleys and in my green pastures. Such valleys only make the pastures greener and the flowers brighter, and they make the annoying sounds of "mommy" said 300 times in 3 hours even sweeter.
The past few days, my love for my kids, mixed with moments of impatience, seems to be bubbling out of me. I want to kiss M one more time or tell H sweet words more and more. So today, I said to H, " I love you more than 50 Easter baskets," and H said, "mommy, I love you more than 107 toy soldiers." One of those 107 soldiers will be with me in my room.

2008-03-18T15:21:00.001-07:00

I must be teething

2008-03-18T15:14:00.000-07:00

I looked up from my chair to the television. On the screen was a delicious looking bowl of meat, with carrots, peas, and gravy on it. I needed to know what that food was so I could buy it when my diet was over. In the next scene a big sheepdog leaps at you and I then knew. I was drooling over Purina brand Beneful. Delicious!

Swamp Creature

2008-03-17T08:51:00.000-07:00

J and I drove the kids to the beach on saturday. We were going to meet our friends from new orleans. Any trip we take with the kids, we know is not going to be restful. We go for a change of scenery, only, and to be with our friends. Leaving at noon already did not set right with me. We have never left for a trip at noon. We always leave at 7pm for the kids to sleep or we leave at the crack of dawn for the kids to sleep. I started a bit more uneasy than usual and it only got worse.

To begin our trip, it took us one hour to go 20 miles all while H asked if he could hear a new book on tape 7 times, then the CD to Cars the movie, then color, and then pee 2 times. As you know from this blog, the patience is slim, so a car trip combined with my present situation was asking a lot. We finally have some peace for about 2 hours when all of a sudden M starts screaming uncontrollably. I said it was because she was tired. so we pull off the road. I comfort her. change her diaper and take her on a small walk in the woods. H goes for a nice walk with no trouble. We get back in the car. M starts screaming uncontrollably again, and now H starts pulling all the sand out of his pockets that he was so peacefully placing in there on our "pleasant" walk in the woods.

J and I for 4 hours and for all other rode trips have refused the use of the DVD player. We can talk, play I spy, color, sing, etc. We never had that as a kid and we turned out well. in fact we love the memories on road trips. Josh and I also believe strongly in not allowing children to watch TV before the age of 2. The American Academy of Pediatrics and many other child development studies reveal that any Tv before the age of 2 has no benefits to children. In fact, we feel it only enhances the "entertaining ourselves to death" mentality many children and adults already have. Well, did I eat my own words or what when the poo or shall I say the screaming hit the fan in the car. I threw in the towel and we put in a DVD. M watched about 5 minutes before she fell asleep. Ah, peace at last. Until 2 minutes later the screams were piercing. And then the vomit came. Waves upon waves of vomit. Yea, I know, she and I have a psychosomatic bond. She physically expressed how I felt about that DVD too.

So we immediately pull over. J pulls onto a dirt road with wet mud that we almost get stuck in. He says "shit" while M is still puking and H is saying "oh, mommy, the smell." We finally stop. I pull open the door while M finishes her thing. We let H out to avoid the stench. We are now on a gravel road with lots of briar and ditches to the side. J specifically tells H he can throw rocks into the ditch but to only stay on the road. J leaves H to open the trunk to get M a new outfit while I wipe and wipe vomit up, when all of sudden I hear moans of distress and look up too see that H is nowhere. The moans continue to rise from the weeds and briars. In a matter of 1 second I ask J where H is and he says on the road. I say no he is not. J runs over to find H. While I am cleaning puke, H has fallen into the ditch where the remains of feet and feet of muddy water are. All I see is J pull up H by one arm and out comes a wet, muddy, screaming rat with no glasses. In the midst of my mess, I am uncontrollably laughing. We strip H down and throw his clothes into the puke clothes, wrap him in a pink towel, and put him back in the car. H then says, "I was the swamp creature." Sure were.

An hour and a half later, we get to the beach where we throw the kids in the tub. I wash H first to clean him of any raw sewage. He is about to get out of the tub, when M diarrheas all in the tub over and over and over again. All the while, we still can't get to our clothes in the suitcases yet because of how much we packed. so once the poo goes down the drain, we all shower and then walk naked around the bedroom.

It was quite a day, and a gin and tonic well deserved that night. We are still laughing though and hope to do so for a while.

moody schmoody

2008-03-13T17:47:00.001-07:00

Am I more moody or do I just think I am moodier because of my present stressor? I don't know. I have had ups and downs today. Ups when I got my first ever facial and down now. Lots of depressing cognitions are playing in my mind now, so I will go watch Survivor and Lost and pray for a clearer head tomorrow. "Lord reign in me, reign in your pow'r. Over all my dreams in my darkest hour." gute nacht

my timeline

2008-03-12T16:58:00.000-07:00

Lots of people have asked about the timeline for my treatment. So here it is. On Monday march 24 I get one shot in the ass of thyrogen. go to www.thyrogen.com for more info. then March 25 I get another shot of thyrogen. Wednesday March 26 I then go into the hospital for my radioactive iodine. I conclude the diet that night and get to then eat wonderful hospital food. I will be in isolation for 3 days. I will be in a lead lined room with no personal contact. everything I take in with me I have to throw away. No cell phones. No computer. nothing. Just me and God. Then Friday I am released. I will go on a soothing trip that weekend, and then Wednesday April 2 I get a full body scan to see where the cancer is. that night I will then go home for the first time in a week and reunite with my kids. Hope this is helpful.

My pork chop is frying and my jack and coke is melting, so got to go.

Making it

2008-03-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

I am on day 8 of my diet and I feel like I am really doing well. I have found a few things I love to eat. so as long as i make those I am good to go. The meat at night is key, however, to my survival and it gives me hope through the day. Tonight will be a ribeye with some rice and zucchini and squash. Not too bad, huh? I think if anyone can make it on a diet for a week, then they can make it for as long as they need to on it.

Whoever may be praying out there for me, thanks. It is helping and working. I am doing well.

Still hummin' along

2008-03-09T16:47:00.000-07:00

Well, nothing too new today. Axl and I are still singing. Quite a bit, I must say. And for that reason, I even feel irritated at my own blog. And I had a dream I was eating at a salad bar. The dreams are getting sort of annoying. You would at least hope my own unconscious could help me get through this. Not so far.

One cool thing that happened: I saw 2 hawks mating. Or at least the tail-end of it.

The Sound of Patience

2008-03-08T15:49:00.000-08:00

Diets don't work well with my psyche. I get irritable, impatient, and easily angered. Tolerance is slim. These traits in general don't mix well with a willful 4 year old and a 13 month old. H seems to sense my demeanor faster than M. So we then have this ugly cycle occurring: mommy is mean, H gets mean, mommy gets meaner, H gets even meaner etc etc. I then take a breather and therapize myself. Those play therapy classes are paying off, I guess. That and booze.

So anyway, we take the H-man to breakfast every Friday morning. As we were getting out of the car, we heard police sirens. The H-man then says, "somebody is in trouble." I say, "yes, they are." H then says, "I bet that person was mean to their mommy." Heartbreaker. Houston and I had a few extra sessions that day, free of charge.

Axl Rose and I are singing the blues.

Gin and Chicken: New Definition of Happy Hour

2008-03-07T08:37:00.000-08:00

From 7Am to 5:30pm, I am a vegan. I eat nothing made from animals. Once dinner arrives, however, I devour my 5oz of meat like a wild animal. I could never be a vegan. Last night on Survivor, one tribe had to kill a chicken for food, and at this point I could have killed it with my bare hands. But if I had just had a day of eating whatever I want, I would have felt sorry for that bird. Not now, honey. Perspectives can change very quickly when life has its limitations. Tonight I am having a pork chop and tomorrow night a New York Strip. Can't wait.

I also had another dream. This time I was hosting a baby shower. All they were serving was fruit and vegetables. I got very upset and angry at the other hostesses because they did not serve a cheese ball.

2008-03-06T08:12:00.001-08:00

I need a filter

2008-03-06T08:04:00.001-08:00

I set myself up for disaster when I got on the precor in front of the TV today at the Y. 20 minutes into my workout I realize I was moaning at every food commercial. Not only are food commercials every other one but it was also chef day on every morning show in existence. And specifically it was chef's do eggs day. My main "apple". Simple moaning would have been enough, but I also had my headphones on while grunting. Great.

Dream interpretation

2008-03-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

See if you can interpret this one? Last night I dreamed I was eating pink wafer cookies by the sleeve. Then I was at a cocktail party when I put an hors' douevre in my mouth and then said, "oh, crap". I then spit out the yummy treat into a napkin and threw it across the room where it then hit a woman in the butt. And to think I only had one cocktail last night.

Yesterday, to make it all better, however, H told me he loved me more than anything in the world. That took the hunger pangs away.

the kiss of death

2008-03-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

I ate a hershey kiss today. Damnit. what was i thinking. nothing apparently. then, since i slipped up, decided to make some chocolate chewies. well they look more like diarrhea scooped onto a cookie sheet. how can you make cookies without eggs, butter, or milk? well poo cookies is what you get.

Treatment Officially Begins- Low Iodine Diet

2008-03-03T15:36:00.000-08:00

This morning, my preparation for treatment officially began. This date does not include the mantras I have had playing in my head for the last 16 months of "when I go through treatment" or "when I leave the kids for 2 weeks for radiation". So strange that those words have become common everyday language for me, at the fertile age of 30.

My treatment began with a low iodine diet for 24 days. This means I can't eat anything with iodine in it. Anything made from the milk or dairy is off limits and anything processed with salt is off limits because it may be iodized salt. so I am eating lots of fruits and vegetables and lean meats. It is tough. I have almost wrecked it a few times already. I have to watch everything I eat or put on my mouth including red lipstick. Lipstick free for this month because it may have red dye # 3 in it which has iodine in it. However, alcohol is free for all. If I have even a few granules of salt before my treatment, the iodine in my body can thwart my thyroid cells from absorbing the radiation. This is so vital, yet a big pain.

Tonight I became so overwhelmed with my dinner that I threw in the towel for the kids and gave them cereal and grapes. Josh and I will eat potatoes and chicken with no salt or oil later tonight with 6 gin and tonics to go along with it.

Besides beginning this diet today, I also interviewed for my first mental health job in the past 5 years. Isn't it ironic? I begin cancer treatment while immersing myself into mental health. Freud would have a hey-day with that one.

Well, life does carry on. M still pooped in the tub tonight with both she and H man in it. I quickly yank both of them out of the tub all while H is saying, "Mommy, that was not appropriate of M." No, I guess it wasn't. But we all need to let it go sometimes.