On Motherhood... again...

During bathtime:

Kloe: (insane uncontrollable shrieking): Momma!!!! MOMMA!!!! There is a buggy in the bathtub!!! MOMMA... Pieces of BUGS!!!! BUGSSSS!!!

I enter bathroom, find gnat in the bathtub, take out the gnat (although to be fair, it was hard to catch), and then:

Kloe: THANK YOU SO MUCH MOMMA. That was SCARY! (Kloe then starts playing again happily.)

I am the hero of the hour.

Good News!

Yesterday was the big appointment with Mom's doctor. She had her PET scan last Wednesday and we had to wait until Monday to get the results. The point of the test was to tell us if the cancer was contained to her liver or if it had spread further. The results were the best case scenerio.

The scan showed that the cancer is only in the lower lobe of the liver. Since that is that case, now we can move forward. She has the have three rounds of chemo, each five weeks long. Each round includes coming in on Wednesday once a week for treatment (generally about three hours long) for three weeks and then taking two weeks off until the next round. Doing the chemo before surgery does two things: 1) the tumor acts as a gage to see how effective the chemo is against the cancer. As long as the tumor is shrinking, we will know that any remaining seeds of cancer are also being destroyed and 2) the smaller the tumor gets, the easier time the surgeon will have removing it. So, after 15 weeks of chemo, and then a surgery, Mom should be cancer-free. What wonderful news.

The Self-Destruct Button (Distant evil cousin to Happy Place)

Does everyone have to struggle with a self-destruct button(also related to the easy way out card), or is it just me? I don't know why being true to who you are(which means only acknowledging the good parts*haha*) is so hard! Little Nuggets of darkness seem to be burrowed in my brain. I thought living my life right and creating a happy situation for myself would deactivate my counterproductive thoughts. That simply isn't true. They come out at night to push and prod. It doesn't matter how much I stand to lose.

I swear, the happier I am, the calmer things are around here (actually, now that I think about it things aren't calm around here at all... things are stressful and ever-changing at the moment, which also seems to be a trigger), the more the little voice in the back of my head goes,"Go ahead, do *insert whatever bad behavoir(say that part with a low, french accent*spongebob style*, it is more fun that way)*! It'll be FINE. You are so strong right now that you can walk on water! Consequences ~meh~consequences, shnosequences. Not only will you not feel bad after *insert bad behavoir*, but you will feel better than before! You will feel more energized, healthier, more appreciative of the good things in life, and possibly sexier! Go ahead (mental nudge), just do it!!!"

I can shut up the voice and control my actions about a 100 times better than when I was younger(not to say I never fail, maybe only 95 times better), mainly because I've been burnt by it so many times. Waking up after *insert bad behavoir*, feeling like absolute crap, feeling the guilt pains, having to tell on myself (because I also have little nuggets of self-tattling in there), feels so bad. Usually there is a headache involved. Definately a stomach ache from the stress.

So in conclusion, I am not perfect("really?!? ",you gasp). I can't even pretend to be.

Ode to the Happy Place

I read the blog below and started thinking...hmmm... this so called "happy place" may need to be explained. Especially after mentioning that my son asked if there was alcohol in my coffee cup (he really did too). I do not know WHY he asks me such things, except for that he gets to watch me snap to attention and get all serious and agitated (and anyone who knows kids knows how they love to get a reaction). Then he gets to hear another lecture about alcohol. I can't seem to control lectures about random dangers of life, which also include the obvious: alcohol, smoking, drugs, talking to strangers, crossing the street, wearing the seatbelt, sharp things, poisonous things, things that will electricute you, why you can only have one vitamin a day, staying away from large pools of water unless an adult is with you, what hypothermia is, what dehydration is, how to avoid split ends, and the importance of learning to stop, drop and roll. It goes along with chronic worrying as a mommy.

Last week he asked me on two different occasions if I would like a beer for lunch (and if you are the sort to have a beer for lunch, good for you, but the point is my son is not allowed to aspire to be a bartender as of yet), only to have to hear the lecture that would surely follow. I'm pretty sure my boy is figuring out all of my strings at the age of six. By the time he is sixteen he will know the exact combonation of questions to turn my brain into pure quivering putty. I am afraid.

Back to my happy place. My neice pointed out to me about a year ago that I sort of "check out" when things get too hectic. I started paying closer attention and realised it was true. In fact, it has always been true. The biggest beef most of my grade school teachers had with me was what they called "daydreaming". I think they might call it ADD these days...

I think that is why blogging holds an appeal to me. At least this is sort of a productive checking out, and I have real documentation about what I was thinking of during my happy place interlude. At least it's not me humming to myself in a corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor, predictably rocking back and forth. Not that I ever really did that. Really.

Sometimes my happy place is a source of real coping. For instance, this summer I found myself in the backseat of a truck barrelling down a dirt road way faster than I personally would have if given the choice. The back of the truck was full to the brim with innertubes that would soon carry us down the river, the front of the truck was enveloped by a billowing cloud of dust from the truck ahead of us. I remember consciously trying to relax my whole body to keep myself from leaping into the front seat with the driver, wrestling for control of the steering wheel and gas, and thereby preserving our souls alive. The next thing I remember, we are almost there and Shannon is saying,"I HATE YOU. You were in your happy place the whole time, weren't you." Because she realised she had been basically alone in her scary backseat experience. And I realised, why yes, I had been... away. I had been thinking about : *my kids*my home*different projects I'd like to get going on* what it would be like to own my own private island* what being the queen of that island would entail* why people who win the lottery don't choose to invest more(for instance, why not buy an island?) instead of buying a hundred sports cars*and finally about what a beautiful day it was. That death surely was around the next dusty bend had become insignificant.

Other times I go to my happy place include: Any mall excursion that involves crowds of people, any public appearance which includes children who are tired, hungry or otherwise cranky(although from the outside it looks like I am there dealing pretty well), any experience which includes dangling out of a helicoptor, attached to the hand of the man who is trying futily to save my life, only to find his glove is slowly slipping off...

So, based on this explanation, I hope you find that this happy place is not only a good place, but also a very necessary one. And if you don't have one, maybe you should invest in one yourself.

Pushing Buttons

For times when I am distracted or in my happy place, my kids have their own way of bringing me back to reality:

There is Kloe's method:

"Momma!"

"Yes?"

"I saw a squirrel and a birdie and I said hi to them."

"Mmmm."

"MOMMA."

"Mmmm?"

"I SAID I saw a squirrel and a birdie, and I said HIII to them".

"Mmmm."

"MOMMA!!!!!! I SAW A BIRDIE AND A SQUIRREL AND I SAID "HI BIRDIE AND SQUIRREL" AND THEY SAID "HI KLOE" AND WE ALL LAUGHED AND PLAYED AND DANCED...MOMMA,DID YOU HEAR ME? DID YOU HEAR ME????"

"Yes dear, you are adorable".

Satisfied silence.

Then there is Derrin's method:

"Hey MOM!"

"Mmmm?"

"Is that coffee in your cup?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Is it alcohol?"(expectant waiting, as he enjoys this particular button)

"What?!? NO, it's coffee!(practically hyperventalating with agitation) Why would I have alcohol??? For one thing, I am driving and for another, you don't drink alcohol for breakfast? Alcohol is tricky, you have to be careful with it! You should only drink at night and even then not too much and as for YOU, you are 6 and you don't drink at all!!!"

Satisfied Silence.

The Cold Choice

If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times. The only good reason to get sick is for the opportunity to drink nyquil. We always get the green kind because it is a little easier than the red stuff to choke down. I have to say, the nyquil made me sleep better than I have in a month. Too good actually. I woke up twenty minutes late because of my sweet sick-time liquid friend. When I finally did drag myself out of bed I realized I was in that wonderful nyquil induced fog that usually lasts until noon. Glorious fog. A glorious bubble of nyquil fog (I'm still in the fog if you wonder why I'm repeating myself. The fog makes words prettier and more fun to type over and over). The fog makes the stuffy nose and sore throat feel interesting instead of irritating. The fog makes hurrying to be on time for school irrevelant. The fog makes one decide to wear pajamas (at least I brushed my teeth and put in my contacts) to drop son off at school . I just sat lower in my carseat and tried not to let passerbys see the real morning me. The fog makes one forget that her husband is having teeth pulled today. The fog (glorious fog that makes personal responsibility null and void) makes one forget she is supposed to pick up her husband at the oral surgeon's office. Fortunately, my father-in-law called to remind me so I was just a little late to pick Derrick up.

Now I am on the orange daytime syrup. Not quite as fun, but effective. Between the remaining fog, the orange stuff and the two cups of coffee I have had so far, life is good, although I am still making sure to mention to all that I do indeed have a cold. I so rarely get sick that I have to make sure the word gets out so people know I will have empathy for them when THEY get sick (noble, I know).

Scan

Today is Mom's pet scan. We won't really find out any results until the 18th, but at least this is a move forward in getting treatment for her. Another thing that is working in our favor is that a large group of oncologists are meeting tomorrow and they have chose Mom and her case as their topic of discussion. The more minds on it the better.

cars, movies, and a road trip

Category: Life We chose to stay in our home arena this weekend. We know where everything is here, for instance our favorite restaurants. We also know where the theater is here. We also know where all of my favorite places to shop are. But really what convinced us to stay in Missoula, and really Montana, is that our rental car is restricted from going out of state.

The insurance guy called me, and their solution to the burnt purple bomb was to replace the motor with one that has fifty thousand less miles on it. I admit, I was disappointed. I had hoped for his solution to be,"Ma'am, this poor vehicle is a big pile of crap and a hazard as well. Not only am I totalling it, but I think I'll throw a couple thou more into the mix for your pain and suffering and the risk of your life while putting out the flames." That was not his thinking however, so now we really are going to have to sell my purple car. The truth is, it is a pretty good car, except for the burning thing, so it shouldn't be so hard to sell.

So, knowing we will be selling the purple car, we are in the market for a new car. We spent quite a little time on Friday looking at every sort of car one can think of. Derrick is a car enthusiast. He knows all there is about any car you can imagine. As such, he also enjoys fine quality in a car. It is good to have him on the team of buying a car. I, although not knowing ANYTHING about cars (except for color... I definately have that down), AM the money person on the team. I know exactly how much we have every month, how many bills we have, exactly how far I can stretch a dollar. I am fairly vital to this team as well. Unfortunately, when it actually comes time to choosing a car together, we seem to negate any progress that can be made with both of our very accurate observations about any said vehicle. The car that finally made us decide NOT to look at anymore cars this weekend was a GREAT buy(for what it was), and also FINE quality. It was silver, fully loaded, and although being over four years old, it only had 20,000 miles on it. I must interject here, that I do not like car salesmen. I won't make any more snide comments about them though, because as Derrick reminded me this weekend, snide comments about car salemen are not funny, they are just obvious. Of course they are tricky and dishonest. But the one that really irritated me (his name was Joe... good ol' honest Joe), tried to get on our good side really fast by saying things like,"Now Derrick, a GOOD saleman would try to get you into ANY car you wanted to, any way that they could, with 6 or 7 year loans. I am here to tell you that is not a good idea. I don't want you stretched too tight and in an upsidedown load, you know?," all being said with his hands clasped on his desk, a fatherly gleam in his eye. All being said right before showing us the silver car that was a good 150 dollars more a month than I was willing to spend. I could feel myself getting more and more irritated, partly because I could feel myself being enticed as well. It was beautiful. My own weakness in the moment was what prompted me to bark out,"WE CAN'T AFFORD THIS!!!" Derrick stopped his admiring and smiled big, fake, and through his teeth said,"We are just looking, dear". I knew I had committed some huge trespass at that moment, and I stepped back and let the men crawl in and out of doors, admiring, loving, caressing the car, Joe dreaming he would sell us this car, Derrick dreaming he would buy it. I did apologize later, and after that we tried to limit vehicle searching time.

We also went to the movie Stanger Than Fiction, which I enjoyed. It reminded me a little of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind mixed with Joe versus the Volcano. It was a little slow, but it was fun too. We also watched The Breakup that night, which I HATED. Oh my... how I hated it. I hated the man character. Yikes. The writers must have sat around making a list of every annoying and horrible characteristic a man could probably have and then they rolled it all up in the form of Vince Vaunn who is more capable of being obnoxious than any other actor I have seen. He stressed me out. By the end of the movie I was feeling angry at Derrick, just because he was a man and he was sitting there with me, and he had dared to laugh! I admit I was tired by then and wisely we went to bed shortly thereafter, before I could pick a fight over something so stupid.

Yesterday we took a drive together up to Whitefish. It is so nice to go on a ride, and to experience the total silence of a child-free car. It is called luxury. Don't get me wrong, I miss my children and I will be delighted to have them home today, but how I love sweet sweet silence in a car! We drove all the way to Big Mountain to look at one of Derrick's jobs, and we did a little bit of shopping and ate on the way home. It was simple and sweet. Below is a picture I took with my phones camera at the top of Big Mountain. It was beautiful being on top of the fog for a least a little while.

That is all for the weekend. Real life begins again later today when we get to pick up our babies. But, that's okay. I'm ready to be back in real life with them.