Yep, I’m immature

On NPR I heard this:

“I had no idea there was a difference between a male hoe and a female hoe…”

And I totally had a giggling fit. (She was talking about the gardening tool of course.)

The word makes me laugh. 10 years ago in college we’d drive around with all our friends in our VW vanagon and one night, late a bunch of us were headed to the campus library for something??? Couldn’t have been to study… anyway Suzie, the only one of us who was an actual graduate at the time and working as an elementary school teacher taunted this girl who was taking her time crossing the parking lot we were trying to park in (from inside the car where she couldn’t hear) “Come on, ho, move a little faster.” It was so out of character and so perfectly punctuated, I can’t help but laugh about it still…

A cure for what ails you

I (reluctantly) went to see Momma Mia this evening with a friend. I guess I’m a fan of girly movies, but I was pretty sure this one was going to be in the wait-for-the-DVD catagory of girly-flick. It was so much better than I was expecting. It cheered me deep down in all the sunk in gloomy spots. Beautiful scenes, beautiful people, and lovely suspension of reality. It was lovely. Loved it. I don’t endorse the underlying moral messages, but hey sometimes you just need a laugh. And a cry. And then another laugh. If you are in need of a good giggly, deep down warm feel good movie–see it.

Minimal side-effects

I should be counting my blessings.  I have four of the cutest, sweetest children in the universe, a roof over my head, food to eat–and for the time being I’m cancer free.  My post-therapy scan was clean, huge blessing.  Even more of a blessing was that I had almost no side-effects from my RAI.  Nothin.  I’m not losing my hair, my salivary glands aren’t swollen and sore, I still have my sense of taste, I didn’t gain a bunch of weight… It was pretty much a walk in the park.  I did have some mild nausea in the first few days, but a couple days of nausea is nothing to cry about.  The one thing I’ve noticed though is that I am super annoyed about things.  Things that I should be able to let go.  Things that shouldn’t bother me.  I am experiencing a lot of anger that I don’t know how to deal with.  I find myself incapable of voicing my anger and annoyance with people.  Usually that works, I can just cool off, forget it.  I really hope this is a strange side-effect of RAI.  Maybe a consequence of fluctuating hormones.  Maybe my feelings are legitimate.  Its hard to tell.  I hope I’m not losing my mind.  I had always hoped that when I’m a mature older woman I’ll be able to say the things that I think about saying.  I just can’t give myself permission to say what I think.  Not even with this new perspective I have.  Not even as an older and wiser cancer survivor.  Hmmph.

Food for thought

In my book this is a must read post over at Cara Ellison.

“Imagine being from a country where 2,230,000 people are buried in the ground upon which you walk every day, a place such as Belarus. Rotting layers of soldiers, twelve deep, for miles and miles, nourishing the roots of your grandmother’s apple tree.”

One of the most interesting classes I took in college was the “anthropology of war”. We live in a blessed nation, we exist in the world parallel to where “starvation, massacre, rape, 9-year old boys with Kalashnikovs is just an average day in the hood.”

Its a sobering thought. I am the type who wants to bury my head in the sand. I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to see it. For years BJay has been preaching about how oil is going to get too expensive to drill and refine and our gas economy is going to come to a grinding halt. He gets an odd thrill out of the news that automakers can’t sell SUVs and Chevy trucks are being dethroned as the best selling automobile in this country. BJay has been saying for years that people are going to have to start growing their own food. You know what that says to me? My kids are going to have to go without food. I was pregnant with Asher when 9/11 happened. I was home by myself and I got down on the floor and cried my eyes out. I was just so devastated for my baby, this was the world he was coming in to. Well the shock wore off and I’ve had 3 more children and this is the world they are living in now. The sobering part is that this has been the norm pretty much since the beginning. There will always be something that threatens to destroy our peace. Wars, plagues, civil unrest, food shortages… that’s just another day as a human on this planet. We just keep driving on, against the horrifying tide because somehow in the middle of it all… life is still beautiful. Especially here.

creeping things

So its going on a year since we installed our floors and we still don’t have baseboards up. This summer I have noticed some particularly creepy creatures inside our house. I would feel like a failure of a housekeeper if I hadn’t heard from a couple friends that they’ve seen an influx of the same gross, icky bugs. On three separate occasions I’ve seen a different type of cockroach emerge from the crack between the wall and the floor. One winged brown cockroach. Then a large wingless brown cockroach. And then, a special treat–in my closet a huge black cockroach that was weighty enough to make audible clicks on the bamboo floor as it tried to escape my revolted, crazed wrath. Armed with adrenaline and a shoe I’m a pretty fierce warrior. So far bugs 0, Jessica 3. I don’t even have to say how repulsive it is to kill a bug with an exoskeleton. It sends a shiver right through my spine. Yuck. So last night I was up way too late and noticed a brown blur skittling out of the crack between the floor and the wall in the family room. I dropped my carving tools and braced for a fight. The little brown thing was… hopping? A closer look revealed something even more horrifying–the thing was… fuzzy. I was right on top of the creature before I realized that it was a little brown frog, covered in dust and lint. Awwww. I’m not sure why frogs bring out compassion and bugs bring out primal rage. I captured the frog in a cup and immediately brought it to the sink to wash it off. I have no idea how a frog got into an inner wall of my house. Frankly, its rather disturbing. I only hope it was feasting on bugs while it was there. After bathing the little frog who was visibly relieved to have its rubbery little body texture restored I set the mysterious little creature free in my front yard. That frog is lucky I’m an adult now. I found a slug on my bedroom floor when I was a kid and claimed it as my pet. FYI: Slugs go from dead to fuzzy piece of mold remarkably quickly.

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things I did today

1.  Slept in

2.  Woke up, started baking a sheet cake.

3.  Striped down my bed to start the decontamination process.

4.  Folded laundry

5. Cleaned kitchen, wiped down every surface I had touched and moped the floor

6.  Cycled comforter, mattress pad, sheets, towels through the wash

7.  Mopped floor everywhere I could have walked

8.  Scoured bathroom, in process found rusty sticking out nail on underside of cabinet, punctured finger.

9.  Thought about tetanus shot, applied peroxide and rubbing alcohol liberally.

10.  Washed hands several times.

11.  Cleaned kids bathroom, finishing seconds before family arrived home.

12.  Had sweet, happy reunion with my baby girl.

13.  Interrogated the children about their week with Grandma and Mema

14.  Pulled out all the gifts and treasures I had packed for them to do while they were away that they hadn’t seen.

15.  Bathed and washed 4 filthy, unbathed for a week children.

16.  Brushed and detangled hair.

17 Dressed children for Noah’s baptism.

18.  Went to baptism.

19.  Took massive family photos.

20.  Ate the best hamburger of my entire life.

21.  Listened to my dad play classical guitar, watched my mom swell up with pride and love

22.  Brought kids home, brushed teeth and tucked them in their own beds.

23.  Reflected on the perfect day…

Far Far

Please don’t ever hold my hair

I am not the kind of girl who needs someone to hold my hand.  Maybe because I’m really independent.  Maybe because I am impatient.  I don’t know.  But I just don’t need anyone to go with me for appointments or sit with me when I’m sick.  I don’t need a lot.  So if you ask me to call if I need something and I don’t, its nothing personal.  I almost never need something.  The whole idea of someone holding my hair when I vomit completely repulses me.  If I’m going to be sick, I don’t want an audience.  Vomiting is disgusting.  The only thing more disgusting than vomiting is seeing someone else do it.  Now please don’t get offended if you are one of those girls who needs someone to hold their hair.  We all need different things.  The first time I encountered one of *those* girls I was completely thunderstruck.  I was on study abroad in India with about a dozen other college kids.  Everyone had stomach trouble of some kind and we all had to hear about it ad nauseum.  Literally.  There was this one flighty, dramatic girl who got on my nerves.  She was complaining to a small group girls about her roommate.  Her complaint was that she was in the bathroom getting sick and she knew her roommate could hear but didn’t bother to come hold her hair.  “What?” I said.  I’m pretty reserved.  She repeated the roommate’s offense.  “You are going to have to grow up and get over it.” I said.  Out loud.  Usually I relegate such comments to my inner-dialogue.  “Nobody wants to see you puke, that’s disgusting.” The whole idea was so foreign to me.  The hair-holder was all tight lipped and sulky.  Luckily we were never roommates.

The only thing that I ever let myself cry about in this whole process of getting “the good cancer” was the fact that I’d have to be away from my kids.  My baby.  Before she even left the womb I fretted about leaving her for surgery.  Then when she was two months I started dreading the RAI.  I got to see them tonight from a distance.  Hannah fussed for a minute for me to hold her and then somehow she realized that I wasn’t going to and she sort of wrote me off.  Gabe was hamming it up like crazy making me laugh so hard but he didn’t understand why I couldn’t hold him and it made me so sad.  His confused little face… I know that they will forget all that.  But it makes me hurt on a whole different level.  Physical pain, nausea, fatigue–all that is nothing.  It really is.  Long, long ago I prized my hair as my “one great beauty”.  I thought if I ever got cancer I would rather die than lose my hair.  What an idiotic, immature thing to think.  LOL.  I am a mother now.  The only way to hurt me is to come between me and my kids.  I’d willingly pull out every hair on my head if it meant more time with my children.  They are the most beautiful things I’ve had the privilege of being a part of.  Every day that goes by I feel this radioactive bullet at work in me.  My thyroid bed is swollen and sore today.  Its working.  My thyroid is dying.  I thank my lucky stars I have a family that rocks!  While I’m here by myself healing, my mother-in-law was taking amazing care of my sweet babies with the help of my niece until this evening.  My mom is hugging and loving them now.  My husband spends every moment he can with them.  That is all I need right now.  I just need someone to take my place at loving my kids.  If they are happy and content I can do anything.  Except maybe paint the trim… I have yet to find the energy to start on that.

Day 3

I’ve managed to get 10% of what I thought I’d accomplish done so far.  I really didn’t plan on feeling so worn out.  Today is a new day though.  I took my drugs just over an hour ago, which means I can now eat whatever I want.  Not so hungry still.  And surprise, surprise!  I’m down a whole pound.  Hooray.  I did get Gabe’s baby book put together mostly.  I cheated and tried one of those digital scrapbook things you can put together on-line and have printed up.  It looks like its going to be way cheaper and I don’t have a pile of crap anywhere.  I just need to get my mom to email me pictures of his first birthday because as I recall, our camera had died and we were living at mom’s when Gabe turned 1.  Such a cutie.  For Hannah I’m debating about going the old-fashioned route because the baby books are until age 1 and she’s only 9 months.  I don’t know if I can just store the digital book for three months or if they automatically delete it after a time.  Plus I did get some awesome scrap booking stuff from a friend of mine who heard I wanted to get the baby books done.  It would be a shame not to use it.  Since it is day 3 I am going to venture out, carefully.  I went for a walk last night and I was shocked how cool it is outside.  Probably because the humidity is so low.  Awesome.  That means my hair will look good.

So the kids are still doing well.  Hila was sick yesterday morning.  I swear she inherited her weak stomach from BJay’s side.  She threw up a few times in the morning and slept.  Then she woke up, ate a huge lunch and was fine.  She also had two plates of spaghetti for dinner.  BJay’s theory is that she was sick from taking a bite of the unripe peaches she and Carter destroyed.  Maybe.  Hannah is happy and content and Gabe is absolutely slaying everyone with his charm.  I need to take a picture of snaggle-tooth Asher.  We made Grumpa pull out one of his front teeth on Sunday because we could see the permanent one coming in.  That baby tooth was crazy, the root hadn’t quite dissolved but it had to go.  It had been loose for months.  Asher said it really hurt.  Poor little guy.  He’s missing 3 teeth now, its so cute.  The kids will go to my mom’s today.  My brother and his family will also be coming in today.  I can’t wait to see them!  If only I had a bubble to walk around in.